It's. Not. My. Cat.

Special to Jonesy....

It is Plimp. The cat who lives where I live. She is Chris' cat. But I have grown to love her and she's awful snuggly. But, no, let's be honest with ourselves. I should never have my own pet. It will get buried 'neath the laundry or overdose on chocolate left on the coffee table. My pet would undoubtedly be badly behaved and willful. So I shall enjoy the cuddly qualities of the neurotic Plimp until she, along with Chris and Katrin, rip the family apart in the fall.


If I'd Ever Been on a Rollercoaster, I Bet it Would Feel Like This.

Well....it's not David Lee Roth. Poor Sean. He is devastated. Thought we weren't talking but got a looooooooong message from him last night. He's very sad.

I am much calmer. I think it's because I did a show last night. It calms me right down. I have a show on Monday night at Balthazar at 9:30. I think I'm doing DV8 this Sunday, too, but I'm not entirely sure. I'll find out.

I still love him, but am finding myself much less psycho. Good thing I'm due to get all PMSy again soon. Sigh.

I almost had a great, easy, calm day today. Then...a parking ticket. Fuck! I, according to the man who was writing the ticket, who I didn't punch, lucky for him, have 11 outstanding tickets. Oops. I guess I should start taking care of those. I do seem to have let some things go. I am trying not to let my head explode due to too many balls in the air. I'm just going to have to learn to be a better juggler.

Many layers of startling and bad news today. Darling Sean is overwrought and sad. He feels betrayed on quite a profound level by his relationship with DLR. I don't know, when someone drags you so deeply into their lies I think you spend some time wondering if anything you believe is true.

My mum's youngest brother, my much adored uncle Michael, who is schizophrenic, tried to kill himself last night. My poor mum is pretty freaked out. I mean, it's odd, because he IS schizophrenic, so it's not like it's shocking or out of the blue, but it's sad, and frightening, and I think it makes my mum miss her parents, wishing someone else was in charge. And she loves her baby brother so much, and she feels responsible, wondering if it's her fault.

And an old friend of the family...actually the one I had a fight with a couple of weeks ago about my father's will, you may recall, is dying. He had bladder cancer a couple of years ago, underwent chemotherapy and stuff, and I think it was in remission, and now it's back and it's bad. As far as I know he isn't going to be going through chemo again, and I don't know what avenues he's following in terms of treatment. I think he's just going to let go. This man was the first person to hold me after my parents when I was born. He's a great big black man and always gets very glowy with love when he tells the story of how I fit right in the palm of his hand.

Get used to it, right? Because from now on it's just one fucking piece of sadness after another.

Except for the baby shower of my beautiful, sweet Georgia on Saturday. I can't wait for that baby to get here. I am going to steal it from her all the time. Yummy babies. So edible.

I'm going to put my feet up now, and have a little quiet time to myself. I like this part of the day. Late afternoon/early evening, when it's just me and the cat at home, no tv, no music, just breezes blowing through and comfy sofa on which to stretch out, and snacks, because I actually went grocery shopping yesterday. If you know me well, you know what a feat this is.

Treat each other with tenderness,



Imposters and other Tall Tales

Soooooo...it's been a few days...a lot has happened in these few days. Why don't we start with Sean. Why not, right? What the hell else is my brain occupying itself with. Not much. So we weren't talking. I was managing to only call every few days. I was feeling very uptight and weird about the whole thing. He wasn't there at the El Cocal. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. You know the feeling.

Fuck it. I was going to give you an in depth spiel about the last few days...but. But. What. I am too irritated with falling in love. I remember now why I've avoided it so pointedly for so long. It fucking sucks. I mean, for those few sparkling moments every once in a while it is heady and wonderful. For a minute. Then it's all messy due to another person being involved.

And make no mistake, I love Sean. He's freaked out. I mean, the guy has a right to be in a messy space. But I have been yo yoed around enough this month. I feel like I have enough strength to get us both through this time, but only if he lets me do it. His fighting me is too much. I don't know, right now he seems to think that his problems are the worst problems anyone has. Like, we all have our shit, man.

David Lee Roth was helpful for a minute...if it's actually him. There have been some reports of IMPOSTERY!! I don't know, though. I've spent some time with him this week and I'm pretty sure it's him. I don't know how it couldn't be him. The guy's a maniac. Anyway, he knows how much I love Sean and is bucking for it to work, so that's nice, that he's on my side. Unless he's out of his tree and turns out to be psycho and not DLR, because then Sean will hate him and all things associated with him.

Sean Sean Sean Sean Sean. It's a fucking loop in my head.

Anyway....I'm going to give up boys and get very skinny and chain smoke and become bitter and angry and be a rich and famous skinny, angry, bitter, chain smoking stand up comedian who largely alienates all those around her in order to finally achieve the peace and quiet she is so desperate for.

Ok....so...we weren't talking, then I randomly ran into DLR and introduced myself, and he called Sean from my phone, and Sean responded and all of a sudden we were talking again, then he needed to be rescued from his house, where the cops were kicking him out because someone had to leave for the night and his wife has no friends or anything....so Sean called me. So he stayed with me most of the week. And I did what I could. We went to comedy shows...he's so brilliant. We fucked and ate and talked and laughed and woke up grotesquely early and I drove him to work and he called me five times a day...and we went out with DLR one night to play pool and at the end of the night after we dropped David off Sean got very jealous and thought something was going on with me and David, (may I add here, ewwww), and I calmed him down about that, and he said, "If you don't want to be with me, just tell me...", and I was like, "Idiot, why would I put myself through all this, I want to be with you", and he said he wanted to be with me, too....so you can see I didn't get into this all by myself. He's crazy about me. He told me he loves me.

Now he has conveniently forgotten his part in all of this and yesterday said that I was too intense, (I'd like to quote him as saying, days ago, "God, Riel, you are so intense, I totally love it"), and I was moving too fast, and I wanted things he couldn't give, and how could I love him so soon...etc. The man is out of his tree right now. So we're not talking again. Forever? Maybe. Fuck it. I hate this.

I have to say, I'm sort of glad to be reminded that my heart works. I haven't felt like this in ten years. But I hope this doesn't make it go back into hibernation for another ten years.

My career.

What career?

I don't know. I think it's time to spend some time getting an agent and getting a direction in mind.

Stretch Mouth'd Rascalls are playing in Bellingham first two weekends in June. I am trying to book standup shows. Not getting much response right now. Grn grn. Actually, I don't think anything's different there. Things are still ticking along. I'm just in a crappy mood.

Plus I fell off a bike on Thursday night and am kind of sore. Sore outsides, sore insides. Hiding in my basement, not enjoying the glorious weather we're having today. Yesterday I loved it, but today, it can fuck right off.

I think I'm still funny, though. If not even funnier. Why is angry and annoyed so funny? I think it's because you say fuck all the time.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHG! I miss him. I hate him. I love him. I want to kick him in the teeth. I want to shake him. I want to kiss him. I want to yank him by the shirt collar and get him moving forward. I don't know. I don't want to think about it. I can't stop thinking about it.

Are you bored yet? Too bad. It's my blog.


Stomp, stomp.

He could be a bit tender with me. I don't think it would kill him.



Beep beep boop.

Ok. I am accepting that I am sad and trying to just be quiet and not do too much. Which, in turn is making me fat. So, winning is not happening today. Although, I did download a whole bunch of comedy last night and put it on my ipod and played it in the car today while I was delivering flowers. So, that was kind of good. I brought home some pretty tulips, also good.

I guess what I'm trying to do is remember that I'm not crazy, I have actual things to be sad about. Sometimes I forget that, since I spent so many years not being able to separate my real emotions from just being anxiety ridden.

The quitting smoking pot....well, I quit quitting. Now I'm just cutting down. I'll try again, but, in the meantime, I think I won't beat myself up about it. I mean, I'm not stoned right now....

I'm going to go stay at my stepmother's house while she's in Toronto. Big place, huge tub, dictator sized bed, all cable stations and pay per view, newspapers delivered daily, many sofas. Actually, many beds, too. Fridge full of food. I don't know. I think it will be good, but it will also be weird. I haven't really spent any time there since my dad died, and he will obviously be very present. I guess it'll probably be cathartic. Or something. God, I am in such a funk.

I am trying to drag my ass to comedy shows, just to keep my face there, but haven't booked any shows for two weeks. So I want to head to the El Cocal tonight for the show, since it's only walking distance....but I'm kind of feeling weird about the possibility of seeing Mr. Married. (You know, I think I'm just going to call him Sean from now on. That being his name.) It's extremely possible that he won't be there, but also possibly he will be there, and I just want to leap into his arms, but I don't know at all how to be around him. He's got me all discombobulated. I just can't be cool around him. Fret fret.

Thank goodness for America's Next Top Model. I mean, it's so good to be reminded that people have problems that are so much worse than mine. Wait. What? No, that's not it. It's good to watch skinny girls get called fat and realize why the world is falling apart at the seams and why I'm going to be running to the hills to defend my compound in the next five years.

Oh, hell. I'll walk down there. What's the worst that can happen? I sit outside crying myself silly after he leaves? Nah, that was last week. If it happens again, well, then I get some sad out. Of course, what I really want is for him to see me, lose his shit, leap on me and kiss the hell out of me. Sigh. Wish I looked even a little pretty this week. But...eek.

Peace out, kiddies, be kind to each other. Pat a pug tied up outside a market, that improves your outlook. Chat with a hilarious person in North Carolina while you are both playing online poker. Also fun.




Ack. Pfffthbbttt.

Oh, the week just continues to annoy. More boy drama. The beauty maker is back, and tizziness has ensued. I am hiding today. Not getting out of my flannel jammies.

Start shooting the tv pilot this week and am very nervous about it. I'm sure it will go well, I just so much want the director to get what he wants out of my performance. I will get lots of sleep and drink lots of water and practice my character's voice all week to get it just right. Plus, I gotta Yiddish up some of my dialogue...good times.

Wallow wallow.

So cranky and crampy and ready to start a fight today. So mad that my bed is bereft of a loving soul. Trying to keep the hamster in my brain off the wheel, but he just spins and spins and spins. Stupid rodent.

The scary man who kicked my car did $900 worth of damage. Ass. ICBC will cover it except for my $300 deductible, and I the claim is good for two years, so I can get it fixed when I can afford it. Still, though, something really sticks in my craw about the whole incident. I think he really scared me. It's not very often that I feel really threatened by someone, but I really felt it from him.

Write, write, write. Do not dwell on boys....this is what I keep telling myself. It's fine while I'm rehearsing, or writing, but driving around delivering flowers there's lots of time to overcontemplate, same with curling up with tea and advil. Just so thinky.

Going to go see the therapist I used to see, with the kind help of my stepmother. Marg is the therapist's name. She was my dad's therapist and is pretty much retired, but says she's honoured to work with our family. That's pretty nice. I gotta get this hurt out of my heart. It's making it hard to accomplish things. I am getting so angry, or, I suppose, acknowledging how angry I am.

Good thing I have a room in the basement...good to be able to keep out of my roomies hair. Feeling genuinely unpleasant today.



No more brave face.

This is the end of a very bad day indeed. For a while there I thought it was just hormones, but I am in a very bad state. I can't seem to stop crying. This week. It's just been too much of a rollercoaster for me.

I quit smoking weed a week ago. I have been pretty much a daily smoker for about a year and a half. It just kind of ended up that way. Now I've quit and I fucking feel like my heart is going to fling itself out my mouth and throw itself in front of a train. I'm sure it's healthy to be feeling things, but the intensity of my feelings is a bit frightening to me right now.

I can't sleep, I'm so overwrought. Everyone I saw today said I looked really tired, asked if I was sick. This is not a good sign. I went to Pitt Meadows instead of Port Moody to deliver flowers, they both have a Lehman Place. That made me get in rush hour traffic....I don't know. Just nothing went right all day. I had to yell at my bank to correct a mistake THEY made, so I wouldn't be flat broke for another week. Jerks. Don't they work for me?

Then on my way home I ran a red light, much to my horror. It was a pedestrian controlled light, and I wouldn't even have noticed if it wasn't for the scary man who yelled at me. "Hey, you fuckin' asshole, you just ran a red light." He was huge and angry and riding a bicycle. I was already at my wit's end, then that. I got so vibraty with anger and sadness and I don't know what...then he pulled up next to me on his bike a few blocks later and called me a fuckin' bitch for running the light, and I lost it. I screamed, and I mean screamed, at him, "Fuck you, it was a mistake. A mistake!" Then he started screaming obscenities at me and got off his bike and picked it up over his head and smashed it against my car and kicked my car and called me more names and I was fucking terrified. I drove home, came in the door and burst into tears. My roommate Chris got scared something terrible had happened. I explained through sobs and he sat me down and got me a beer and hugged me. I calmed down for a good portion of the evening. Katrin cooked a nice dinner and we watched America's next top model and read Strongbad emails on homestarrunner.com.

Then I decided it would be a good idea to go for a walk, I needed to deposit car insurance into my chequing account, so I thought I'd pop into the comedy night at El Cocal then walk up to my bank. I got to El Cocal and all the comics were around but no show. They had no audience tonight so they were just hanging out drinking beer. Mr. Married was there, dammit! I'm so fragile today, it just threw me for a loop and I felt so awkward. I wanted to curl up in his arms and just let us love each other. It feels worse to be reminded what it feels like and then just watch it evaporate. So we hugged, awkwardly, and I ended up sitting outside and crying my eyes out, after they'd all left. Crying walking to the bank, crying walking home.

Ultimately I'm completely confused about what I'm feeling. I know that a lot of this crying is over my father. I decided, for whatever reason, to read my dad's online obituary a couple of nights ago, where people left notes about him, how they knew him, how they felt about him. I hadn't read it since right after he died, and there was a lot on there, including a note from someone very dear to me who I lost contact with 9 years ago. I have thought about this woman probably every day since then and missed her. So I emailed her and thanked her for the note, and now we are exchanging emails. It is wonderful, and very emotional.

And my brother is having a crying week, and that's making me sad.

And even though I loved being in Bellingham, it was a huge stress, and also emotional, talking about my dad so much with those guys.

And the Mr. Married thing. I am happy it happened, don't get me wrong, I stand by what I wrote yesterday, but today I can't seem to separate out all my feelings and understand what's real, what's hormonal, what's what. I feel like smashing things. Like throwing rocks through windows. I am so bloody angry.

Then there was the little run in I had on Monday with an old family friend who is also very ill, and he thinks I should be doing further investigations into my dad's will, for whatever reason, and we had an ugly fight about it. He said some things that were very upsetting.

The cosmos are very dramatic for me right now, obviously, and I honestly don't think I'm creating the drama. I mean, except for the married man thing...which I suppose I could have avoided. But I don't know, I mean, we've liked each other so much for two years. Something was bound to rear it's head. Of course, I feel foolish around him, and think about him every fucking second. I'm hoping when the pms passes this all seems like a bad dream and I can get back to feeling sane. Right now I just feel unbelievably lonely and edgy. Very close to snapping. Even a long walk didn't clear my head the way I would have liked. And I want to smoke a joint and not think about anything. But it just seems like a bad idea. I don't know. I haven't decided. So far the only real benefit to not smoking seems to be an ability to tidy more often. And I remember to return phone calls. But it's not making me smarter, or happier, or anything.

And I want to see my therapist, but not actually. Because I don't think she's the right therapist for me. I don't think she has enough edge, doesn't get me. She's too nice, or not smart enough, or something. I told her a couple of weeks ago that I thought that I was smoking too much pot and I wanted to stop and we talked about it a bit and she didn't even ask me about it the next time I came in. What good is a therapist who doesn't challenge you? I don't need to be coddled. I need to get to the root of things. Of course, I feel the same guilt one feels when one wants to change hairdressers. I just feel like I have to coddle her, protect her a bit from my edge, and that's no good.

Yes. I'm intense. I feel it just oozing out my pores, this bizarre intense energy. I haven't felt this way in years. Today I'm a bit worried, but I'm hopeful that it will pass, which is, I guess, the main difference in things. I never used to be able to see the other end of things.

I'm going to Value Village tomorrow to buy cheap dishes and then I'm going somewhere to smash them. I need to scream and sweat and get really, really mad.

Even writing this didn't make me feel better. This sucks. How is it that I can know so surely that I am loved by so many amazing people, and yet feel so completely alone? My stomach hurts. I find myself praying a lot. God, maybe all the grief in the world over the Pope dying has got me bent out of shape. You know, I always get a bit out of sorts when something huge happens on the planet. Like I can feel all the chaos and emotion swirling around. Let's not forget that 2 billion people are Christian. That's a lot of sadness tornadoing about our atmosphere. Poor me, poor everyone. What will become of us? The existential angst. I'm going to give myself an ulcer if I'm not careful. I remember how much I fight with my own brain when I let it run on and on.

I need a fucking hug. And I don't want to have to get in my car to get it. I want to be held all night and brought tea in the morning. I want my tears gently wiped away with a strong, calloused thumb. A hand holding my head, a kiss in the hair. I want a month in the desert. I want quiet and respite and recuperation.

I gotta go. So much tossing and turning to do.

Thanks for listening.




I just watched I "heart" Huckabees. If you have never seen this movie, but you have experienced existential angst, see it. I seriously related to it. Plus, it was hilarious and strange, like me!

So. Mr. Married and I had "the talk" last night. Cooling our jets, putting it all off 'til he's sorted out. Could be quite a long time. We agreed that we are crazy about each other, but that we would like to do things in a healthy way. He needs time alone to figure out whether he's capable of being alone, I need to be the number one girl. Anyway, it's possible that it will never come back around to romance, which makes us both sad, but we're staying in touch, I'll happily offer him the comfort of a friendship. Anyway, I don't know where our story will go, but I'm happy that we're approaching it with what I feel is such wisdom. Could I use the word happy more often when discussing a situation I feel sad about? We haven't spoken today, having elected to not speak for a bit, in order to get used to the idea of a less intense situation. We are two very intense people, so it'll be a challenge. Also, we were talking several times a day and emailing lots, which, while not the easiest way to stay away from each other, was something I really liked. Normally I feel smothered when someone pays so much attention to me, but I could talk to him all the time and see him all the time and not feel weird about it. Anyway, we didn't talk today, and no emails with songs attached, so I kind of miss him. Luckily I had a long rehearsal this morning and a long nap this afternoon. Good ways not to think about it. Plus Georgia has agreed to be there when I feel like phoning him so I can phone her instead. Very important at this point, I believe, to be taking lots and lots of space.

I will say this. The whole thing, however it turns out, has been worth the past week. It's something to be reminded that I want to be cherished and adored. Nothing less.

I suppose some other romance could come up, I certainly won't be closed to it. You can't wait around for something that might happen, but you can hope. Nah, I don't even think I'll bother hoping. I'll just do my work and enjoy my life and keep the ol' ticker open to possibilities.

I have taken this week off of standup comedy in order to ride the wave of the great shows in Bellingham. I didn't want to come back and go right back into audiences of six people politely not laughing in order not to draw attention to themselves. Woohoo. I mean, I love it, but it's not always uplifting.

What else. I have things to talk about, to be sure...but I don't know. I'm all pms-y and don't really feel like getting into it. It's a very emotional week I'm in. Certainly lots of stuff has come up about my dad, which is also true for my brother, so I'm not sure what's in the air. Lots of need to stay home and tidy and think on the state of the universe. Hence, I "heart" Huckabees' apparent relevance.

Ok. My roomies are complaining about how hard I pound on the keys of my laptop.

Plus there are hot skateboarders on tv right now. Yum.

Be kind to each other.



Love and other surprises.

I don't even know where to begin.

On the heels of my best standup show ever on Tuesday night I managed to stink up the El Cocal so badly on Wednesday night....really, stinkeroo. I knew it couldn't possibly be as good as Tuesday, and then it was even worse. Was ok, though, I still had fun and had good yaks with fellow comics. Nice to be back on the circuit and feeling very welcomed there. Had a brisk march uphill home which cleared my head and proved to be rather exhiliarating. Fast nighttime walks in the cool damp of an early spring night.

Then the man from the Reef that I gave my card to last week actually called...wants to go out. Then someone else called, (remember the man who made me feel so beautiful in December?) and he's coming back to town. Then mr. married left his wife.

So. I came to Bellingham to do improv with Ryan Stiles, Rich Elwood & Jay Ono. Brought my friend Taz for last night's show. It was amazing. Only five of us and a two hour show. Lots of stage time and great energy. I felt much safer on stage than I thought I would with the big dogs and just had a ball. Tonight was a bit more of a zoo as a bunch of players came up from Seattle to join us and we were eight players. That's actually quite a few...more chaotic, less time with each player. And the old men, well, they loved me. They seem to have kind of taken up my cause and are now my biggest champions, eager to play with me again and giving me lots of good advice on getting the right agent and stuff like that. Plus, they all knew my dad and we've been swapping stories. Bit emotional, on top of everything else.

Anyway, I feel like I'm on a speeding train, still looking out the window trying to see the view. I don't want to forget to pace myself and make sure I tread this path with care and grace. I don't want to miss anything. Anything at all.

Today I woke up so tired, I stayed in bed all day in the hotel and napped and ate room service in bed and watched tv and episodes of six feet under on my computer. My brother came down this afternoon and got in the other bed. We were cute. He stayed for the early show and was proud of me, which was cool.

This life. I feel so lightheaded, but ready. I'm just so so ready to make great things happen.

But why, oh, why, does it all have to happen at exactly the same time?

Ryan told me he loves me. (Like, friendly love). I cried. What a week.

Be so kind to each other.