Pickles.

Pickles are funny to me. Well, at least the word is. It’s goofy. It’s fun to say.

“Hey Pickle! How are you doing?”

“What’s the deal, Pickle?”

“Pickle you later!”

What does that even mean?

I have no idea. It’s just fun to say.

Pickle.

Pickle, pickle, pickle.

I’m in NYC. In Brooklyn. In the most amazing home, (I LOVE home exchange! Mahalo Ria!!!) and I’ve signed up to take a 5-day intensive course in stand-up comedy at the American Comedy Institute. And I’m terrified. Yes, terrified.

Then why am I doing it?

‘Cause. The most rewarding things I’ve done in life were also the most scary.Going on my first plane ride at 14 with no one I knew to a country where I couldn’t speak the language. Scary.

Taking a job as a maid in a country where all I could really say was, “Ein Bier, bitte.” Scary.

Taking a job on a cruise ship where my main role was leading aerobics, and I’d only done that once in the class that I’d just taken because I’d actually gotten the job. Scary.

It’s a long list. I’ll stop. You get the picture.

Throughout my life I’ve made many, many leaps and next week I’m jumping off yet another cliff. Will I land on my feet or with egg on my face?

My husband says all good stand-up comedians talk about their flops. I reckon it’s a rite of passage, a part of the process. Irrrreegardless, I’m jumping. Maybe I’ll be holding my nose and it won’t be pretty, but I promise you I will jump.

And if I do flop? Land on my belly instead of my feet?

Well, there are always pickles.

And from the look of the Heinz pickle bookmarks, it’s time for an update.

Maybe I can be the next Pickle Pinup.

-Sj out