My second appearance at Hillary Rea’s long-running storytelling event, Tell Me A Story, was a fun one. The audience was game. The other presenters inspired me to use the word delightful without irony. And I’d taken some of the pressure off of performing directly after a draining work day by deciding I’d read my story, though I knew it well enough to just (insert jazz hands) tell it, and ad-libbed from the heart more than once.
Cherry on the sundae? Hillary, a consummate professional and a woman after my own heart, decided that this year she’d start paying her storytellers because…fairness, integrity, ad nauseam, amen.
Mad props to the colleague who wished me good luck by hoping the audience understood that “that’s how you really talk,” the fellow presenter who tapped into my fear that I would be forced to publicly address my refusal to see either Disney’s Frozen or everyone’s A Christmas Story, and Hillary’s eye-snagging floral Doc Martens.
Here’s what you missed. Yes, this is really how I talk. Continue reading “Never Metaphor I Didn’t Like”