top of page
  • Alexandra Hillenbrand


Four score and seven delusions ago, I took a Humor Writing class. This class scared me shitless for a number of reasons. One, I wasn't sure if I was actually funny, two, I had never written comedically before, and three, the final project was a 5 minute stand up routine in front of my college's student body (aka anyone who needed comedic relief from finals).

The class challenged in so many ways. It made me braver, sharper, and carry around a pink cardboard horse for a full 24 hours (rules of threes, I'll never forget don't worry). What the class didn't make me do, however, is paint the horse glittery hot pink, name her Frannie, actively refer to her as a conscious presence in the room, designate her a personal seat in the dining hall, tuck her in at night, or bring her to the bar. None of that was required, and yet, I toted her around with me for nearly a full week. My very own personal support 'animal'.

I wanted to lean into purpose of the class and so go the extra mile I did. I wasn't sure why Frannie was the hill I wanted to die on, but she became an important extension of the way I wanted to be seen. Sometimes, I can be reserved and shy and all too polite for my own good. Frannie became an ice breaker - a way for me to embrace my sense of humor and share it with more people than just my friends. Frannie really was all about growing my confidence in the idea that I am allowed to call myself 'funny', or at the very least, incredibly insane and unique.

Frannie now rests on a shelf in my sorority house. I don't know if anyone noticed that I had placed her there, but I did. Call me crazy, but I thought it would be funny and sentimental to have her there watching over the house. Especially since I am now a graduate who has friends who aren't quite yet old like granny Al over here. Frannie took good care of me, now she gets to take care of you! :)

17 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Random Recollections About TTPD

I Hate it Here Thinking about how I told someone that I was going to be a teacher and they said, "You're doing good, and we're doing well." - Oh, the poets trapped in the body of finance guys. This on

Straight from the Tortured Poets Department

To be Known There’s one thing they don’t tell you when you’re very small, They don’t say that ‘to be known’ is the greatest gift of all. You thought it was the friendly face who asked to share your to


bottom of page