Who In The World Is Cameron Esposito?: In L.A., you ain’t shit
I was in Iowa City last week for a festival. My big sister traveled there with me—I flew to Chicago and she drove me to Iowa so we could spend time together and because she rules. Iowa City is home to a huge university with a Girls-approved writing program and those crumbly, red brick buildings of which so many campuses are fond. It’s quaint as hell.
I was almost too relaxed stepping onstage that night. My sis and I had spent the day eating for-real diner food at a for-real diner and strolling the river that snakes through town. It was the first spring-type day the city had seen and college kids were draped over everything, sunning hard. We joined them.
The theater I was performing at was old and rad and built in the ’20s and the local openers were on point—totally different from one …