You’re younger than “Saturday Night Live” itself. Were you a comedy nerd as a kid? Totally. I grew up on “S.N.L.,” doing all the sketches on the playground. A friend and I would play these Chicago newscasters that were actually just impressions of the Bears’ “Superfans.” Two 11-year-old girls with fake mustaches — we were joke stealers already.

When did you realize that you didn’t have to copy other people’s material and that you were genuinely funny? That’s, like, every day. Some days I feel genuinely funny, some days I’m like: “Oh, I suck. Am I funny, or am I like the people in the audition process on ‘American Idol’ that don’t know that they’re not good?” I always feel the most validated and confident being around people that I find funny — having Fred Armisen laugh at a scene or Bill Hader or Seth Meyers give me a compliment.

You got a B.F.A. in theater before you started doing improv comedy. Why did you make the switch? In college, we did a scene from “Angels in America,” which every 18-year-old drama student does, and people were laughing. I was like: “Why are they laughing? I’m being serious.” Then I learned that playing things real is such a big part of comedy, too.

Your parents sat in front of Lorne Michaels at one of your performances when he was scouting you for “S.N.L.” How did that go? They were so nervous being in front of Lorne that they were white-faced afterward, like they had seen a murder. I was like: “Oh, so I bombed? Because you guys look terrible.”