Our Lord, my year, and man I'm a good writer.

I had a funny little moment last night. I was, um, well, I was googling things...yes, yes, my own name, etc...anyway, I googled "infidelia" just to see what came up, a few things. One of the things that came up was a comment posted on a blog I recognized, so I looked at it. The comment was so well written that I didn't believe it was me who had written it and actually went as far as to click the link of the person who had written it, named infidelia and even that didn't make me believe, and indeed it took me to my own blog. I went back and read it over, there were two comments I had posted, actually, and still, had no memory of writing them, but the signatures were mine, for sure. So odd, for me to come across a little bit of my own writing and to be impressed by it. It spurs me on.

I'm going out now to sell some electronics, and maybe my bike, and some books, and see where that gets me. My relationship to material goods has become one of finding them burdensome.

I have begun the conversation with my family about a present free Christmas early this year, I hope it takes. We can ramp it up again one day when my brother or I have children, but hopefully not even then. Now birthdays, that's a whole different ballgame. I like to give on birthdays, but Jesus isn't even around, and what would he want anyway? An X-box? A Hudson's Bay blanket? A handmade sweater one arm longer than the other? I think not. Just the company of loved ones. And you know, if it's good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for me.



The tides the tides

Late late late and sleepless still. Every night lately has been like this, a struggle to sleep. A fight with anxiety and the desire to walk the darkened streets for hours and hours. A fight, always a fight.

I went to see The Weatherman with Nick Cage and Michael Caine tonight. It was not at all what I expected and I liked it very much. But it tore at me, there is so much about fathers and daughters and fathers and sons and fathers and dying....it got right to part of me that stings the most when you touch it. There were tears.

I sucked it up, though, to do a set at the El Cocal. It went fairly well, a nice comic told me he thinks I'm the funniest lady in town. I didn't mind hearing that. I did a couple of new jokes, one worked, one needs work.

Then I came home, (home? where is that lately?), and had tuna and a moment with my roommate in the kitchen where we discussed money and my owing and my not having and his expecting more than I thought, and all the parts of me that were already twitching with the threat of an emotional fall began to conspire to make me cry, which I did not. Which I want to now, but can't seem to.

I just lie here, thinking of my father, and how angry I am. I still need him and he is not here and it just creeps right up sometimes. I am swimming in it right now. I want to sleep, I want to run, I want my heart to stop pounding like I had injected amphetamines right into it. The mood swings are hard to contend with, since they just swing of their own accord.

My friend who broke up with me this weekend sent me another email today, apologizing for the rudeness and namecalling in the last email. But also saying that it doesn't change things. For some reason it undid me a little. As have things been undoing me all day.

And the boy who has been ignoring me threw me a proverbial bone. I had just finished a conversation with my stepmother where she reminded me that much of the emotion I am feeling has not to do with him but with the multitude of real dramas in which I am embroiled. So I relaxed and thought, I deserve better, I give it up to the Gods. He emailed me not minutes later and it was just enough to keep me dangling yet not enough to satisfy.

I am already out of this house and in Toronto in my head. How to keep here and keep plugging at the packing? How indeed. It is too easy to say yes I can see you today, yes I have time. I have no time. And now I have promised myself to two things tomorrow. Foolish, foolish girl.

Where is the person who will just hold me and hold me without asking why they have to? Just to hold me, so I know I'm not alone in it. Words are okay, but I need the calming of touch. I feel like I am in the middle of the desert, the sun directly above me, nothing on the horizon but blue sky in all directions, and all directions are the same direction, no way to tell where to go. I know the sun will begin to descend, and if I just have patience I will move in my desired path, but just this minute, I feel lost.

So said me.



Truth...hurts...don't it.

My best friend broke up with me today. I want to tell you the story, because I want you to know how I feel, but I don’t want to make her sound like a terrible person, because she’s not. She is a beautiful, kind, sweet, funny, goofy, sexy woman, a good friend and a loving and conscientious mother. She had the baby a few months ago and is now suffering a rather bad bout of post partum depression. Unfortunately she is using it as an excuse to revive some old and self-destructive patterns of behaviour.

I need to pause here and just say how irritating it is when you are typing and there is a major lag time between the time you press the key and the time the letters appear on the screen. It has been seriously hindering my flow of thoughts. Just needed to complain about that for a second.

On Friday night the aforementioned friend pulled some shit, putting several other people, including myself, in very awkward positions, having to run some major interference in order to keep her from destroying this beautiful life she has created for herself, her husband and their new baby. The life, I might add, she has always wanted. Let me just say this here. If she was pulling this shit and it was so crazy and out of character and shocking, I could totally buy the post partum excuse and would be coddling her to her very heart’s content. But the shit has been going on for years and years, and now she has a convenient little reason for it. The girl is going to bring it all crashing down around her ears and it is heartbreaking to watch. So I don’t want to watch it, and I don’t want to tell her it’s okay when it is not okay.

So I told her the truth yesterday. That I was angry and that I think she’s on a very bad path. At first she was grateful that I told her the truth, because I’m the only one of her friends that will, but then I guess she slept on it and woke up with a fresh batch of self righteous anger and fear, because the vicious emails came flying at me today. She is incredibly adept at lashing out when she has experienced something hurtful. So today I got to hear about every mistake I’ve made in our thirteen year friendship. I was hoping not to have the conversation over email, purposely had avoided it the day before, but when I got such an attack, well, I responded. I laid it out very clearly, and I’m certain that it came out sounding quite harsh. I always want to communicate my thoughts and feelings as clearly as I can, and I know that I can only do that if I stay calm and level headed. As soon as my temper enters into it I am capable of quite nasty things. I’m sure she felt I was being nasty, but I was careful to address only the current situation, and not respond to all of the cruel things she said to me.

For Chrisssakes, nobody knows better than I do the mistakes I have made in my life, and the flaws I carry with me. And any time she wants to address things about me that bother her, I am ready to listen. I’m not saying I always want to hear the truth, quite the opposite. Wait. What I mean is, I always WANT to hear the truth, but right when I’m hearing it I don’t always want to hear it, if you get my drift. I get mad and defensive, too, but I take it with me and think about it and am grateful that people care enough to tell it to me straight. I want to fix what’s wrong with me, though I suspect even a lifetime of effort will still leave me with unwanted traits. Having said that, you gotta talk about one thing at a time, and just because I’ve made mistakes doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to notice when someone else is fucking up.

We have, me and her, long been on this pendulum in our friendship, where I swing madly from hero to villain in her mind, and little in between.

Sufficed to say, her response to my response was LOONY TUNES. She tore me a new asshole for DARING to speak to her in such a manner, and what the hell do I know about post pardom [sic], (I nearly wrote a vitriolic email back to her telling her I may not know how it feels to have post partum but at least I know how to spell it, but I didn’t. But I am secretly vindictively happy to have said it here. Because I am actually quite hurt and sad and a tiny bit of lashing out is hard to avoid), and how dare I call her out on anything because she is a MOTHER now and can do whatever she wants. Then she ordered me out of her life.

So I sat with that, and I thought to myself that I was willing to risk the fallout if I thought maybe it would serve her in the end. And I thought, one day she will want this back, and I will be here. And I thought, I won’t write her in response to this, because it will be too tempting to be cruel, and I could cut so deeply. Instead I called a mutual good friend of ours and asked him to please call her and be sweet and kind to her, because I thought she was probably hurting very badly and might need him. I told him to let her say whatever she wanted about me and I didn’t mind. Then I called her husband and said I was sorry to leave him with the fallout, but that maybe when he got home from work he could be extra tender with her and that I wanted him to know that everything I said came from a place of love and concern. He’s a straight shooter and a good man, and I wanted him to know I was pulling for her in the end.

I went about my day, knowing that I was probably going to start feeling sad about it at some point, but actually feeling pretty calm.

Then came the next email. Remember, I didn’t respond to the one before. This one said she had forgotten to say a few things and while the BABY was sleeping she just had a minute, before the BABY woke up and she had to tend to the BABY again. (I may be feeling a bit bitter about the use of the BABY to raise her above everyone, like she’s the first one to ever have a BABY and to ever feel scared and unprepared and lonely and questioning of her decision). In this email the things she forgot to say were that I had never been there for her in our thirteen year friendship and it has always been all about me and she is tired of straining for my approval and she is lonely for me and too angry and sad to want to repair and salvage it. The idea that I haven’t been there for her in the last thirteen years is ludicrous, and I’m sure she knows is.

What is happening there is that I haven’t been there for her much in the last three months, admittedly, which I think I wrote about a couple of times in earlier entries. But the BABY is not my baby, and I have had quite a year my own self without having to take responsibility for her life, too. I’m actually still a bit confused about my feelings about all of that. Trying to figure out what is my job, my obligation, what isn’t. Did I desert her in her hour of need? Maybe. But did I do it glibly, and sit in my hammock, filing my nails drinking margaritas and laughing at her? No. I fell into a dark and troubling depression, and got busy up to my ass and had little energy left over to do what I felt was being asked of me. I hope that in the future we are friends again and we can figure that one out together.

Anyway, I thought that would be the last of it, but then I guess her husband came home from work and mentioned I had called, so tonight I got an all capital letters email, and I want to quote it verbatim, “DON"T EVER CALL [MY HUSBAND} AGAIN AND TRY TO OFFER YOUR "LOVE" TO ME THROUGH HIM! YOU MANIPULATIVE BITCH STAY OUT OF MY LIFE!!”

Before I even got this one I was starting to feel my heart splintering. I don’t want to be without her, but I can’t support the self destruction, and I can’t have relationships I can’t be truthful in. I have spent a long time trying to say things to her as tenderly as possible, and when it gets hard I get an incredible amount of viciousness thrown my way. It’s a bit untenable. Let’s clarify one thing. I wasn’t offering my love to her through him, I was asking him to be loving to her because I knew she would need it, and to apologize to him for the wake I was leaving for him to negotiate. Name-calling is just so unnecessary.

Thank you for listening to this, and for not asking for more details about what exactly the bad behaviour is, because I don’t think that part is necessary here. But it makes me feel better to get it out, and to get a couple of possibly inappropriate jabs in, you know, so my inner child is satisfied….but mostly I was just lying here, trying to sleep, and I felt this chasm in my core, widening, pushing all my insides towards the outsides, making it hard to breathe and making me feel unsure and anxious and lonely, and I needed someone, but it’s late, so in lieu of someone, I choose this, and it helps.

Two more things, completely unrelated to this thing. I am being clearly ignored by a boy, a lover who has been in my life in that capacity for a year and some, and who is moving away while I am in Toronto, a boy who just last week spoke so tenderly and sweetly to me, and drew me a bath and then got in with me, and then told me I was beautiful and made me laugh…a boy who I know has felt strongly for me. He is not returning emails and phone calls and it is beginning to chafe. I am annoyed with myself for not being cool enough to be ignoring him, too, but I would rather we could have some sweet time together before we part. It bothers me and it bothers me that it bothers me.

That is the first of the last two things. The last of the last two things is that my friend Lee walked me all the way home tonight after a very fun evening of improv comedy and team scrabble. He had already walked from Commercial Drive to Main and 8th tonight, then walked me from Main and 8th all the way to my house near Venables and Victoria, a good hour, I think, THEN he had to walk all the way back to his house, back near Main street. That Lee, he is a sweet man. We had a very good talk and I have decided to keep him. Lee is my new friend.

I hope everyone makes a new friend.



On a clear day you can see....

Leaving for Toronto next week, have booked some shows, looks like I will be booking more. I am very sleepy right now, is very late and have been staring at screen for hours, just wanted to say how very happy I am at this moment. I have a two year plan starting to gel in my mind, and that is satisfying. I was going over the rough sketch of it tonight with Georgia and realized I'm totally highly functioning and making excellent progress in my career. I'm chuffed. Now, I just need that grant...or line of credit. I'm working on it.

Here is the rough sketch:

Do many standup shows, as many as possible
Do many shows with Rascalls, as many as possible
Possible weekly show with Rascalls beginning in spring, right after possible west coast gigs with Rascalls - Bellingham, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco.
Fringe show with Rascalls.
Solo show at Fringe. Yikes.
Massage school, in order to finally have mobile, barterable trade.
Take self, standup and mobile barterable trade to NYC by two years from now, do many shows there, live in rat infested dive, hired as writer for the Daily Show.

I'm going to bed now.

I shall dream of New York men.



This is the theme to Garry's show....

I had my first stage manager nightmare last night. I dreamed we moved theatres, and had a bigger band, and there was no booth for me to be in, so I had to be on the stage, and I kept getting in the way, then all my lighting and sound cues kept disappearing from my prompt script, and then the script just fell apart and went all out of order, then I realized I had no control over Penelope's mic because it was backstage, then all the breakers blew on the lights, and I was kneeling on the side of the stage in the dark trying like a maniac to come up with a light that worked while John screamed from backstage, "The circuits are overloaded, the board's on fire!", which made me panic even more, and the audience got really uncomfortable and I think I cried. I am hoping this is not what happens tonight.

Okay, I'm getting up now.


A confession.

Just so you know, I didn't do anything today except the show. Well, I mean, I showered, and I ate breakfast, and I read and played scrabble, but I did nothing of consequence. And right after the show I came right home. I am glad I am going back to work on Monday, I am starting to get restless.

I feel slightly neglectful of you all. I have to admit something. I....I...I have another blog. I know!! I just couldn't help myself! It's not you, it's me. I just needed more. Oh, god, that was probably the wrong thing to say. I needed something truly anonymous. And it is. Oh, it is lovely. I thought I would write about everything in it, all the things not diplomatic enough to write here, but so far it is completely concerned with sex. Well, and love, to a degree. I am actually quite proud of it. Partly because it is rather explicit, but the prose is also quite good, if I do say so myself. I wish I could share it with you all, but, well, that would be, odd. It's the anonymity that makes one bold, obviously.

There you have it.



There goes Tuesday.

My mummy was in town this weekend and it was lovely and calming to see her. She brought all kinds of yummy organic food from the okanagan. Lamb, potatoes, carrots, garlic, squash, spinach, apples. So delicious that I had to run right out and do some grocery shopping so I wouldn't let these beautiful things go to waste.

I am feeling better. I say this carefully, since we all know that my moods have been swingy at best this year. But I certainly feel like the worst of the fog of the last couple of months has lifted. I have some potential living arrangements coming down the pike, and I feel like it'll all be ok. You know? Like, it will ALL be ok.

It has been very good for me to have the last week or so mostly to myself. I mean, I've been working on this show, but my days have largely been my own. I'm going back to the flower shop on Monday, but this rest has been sorely needed. And I do feel somewhat rested.

I have a date this week. I don't know what it all means, but then, I never do. It makes me hyperventilate slightly to think about committing to one person. So I guess a slow burn would ease me into it. I was thinking that my love life was sort of free and clear these days, but how could it be? I keep myself knee deep in boys, and sometimes girls, you know, cause of how much I like them. So someone showed up in town again, and it's all sweet, but then there's this date.....let the chips fall where they may, I say. (Yeah, that's just what I say, all the time.)

Pleased to report that it's not raining today and so I will ride my bicycle to the show tonight. It leaves me a bit torn, because en bicyclette means not dressing all pretty, but the ass muscles get nice, and the bus is 2.25, each way. Let's do right by the ass muscles, shall we? All this dating, maybe I wanna make those a little rounder and higher.

It's weird to think about dating. As I told my cousin yesterday, I never know where things are going because I always kind of assume they are hanging out with me as a charitable gesture. Weird, eh? I mean, I know I'm hot, but I can never figure out why they come back, since I think I'm kind of dark and difficult. Maybe being funny helps. Probably. It's a strange thing to think so highly and so lowly of oneself at the same time. But, never let it be said that I didn't overcomplicate things.

Ok, so I'm still thinking of a move, but now I'm thinking, why stop in Toronto? Why not just make a plan to get to New York? So I'm leaning that way. Obviously, to me, anyway, it's a longer term plan. Because I'm certainly not moving to NYC to be poor there, so I gotta be smart about it. Also thinking of going back to school to get myself a barterable trade that can travel with me. I have not got the will, desire or patience to go back to University. The academic life, she is not for me. But, massage school would satisfy me on many levels. I am already a naturally gifted masseuse, and have always had the desire to practice some form of healing art, plus it's barterable and mobile. And, can do that kind of schooling and still do comedy. Anyway, it's a thought.

Hm...comedy. For some reason not booking shows, even though I keep claiming I want to. Pretty afraid of overextending myself. Will try to keep everything balanced. I don't want to get so tired and depressed again, at least not right away.

Recently someone told me that they thought that I should mention a particular person in my blog more often, that I don't mention that person enough, that it might make that person feel good, or something. Listen, this is MY blog. To write about what I want, what I'm feeling. If you are not mentioned on here as often as you would like, tough beans. Just suck it up. Because this is only a portion of what I'm thinking and feeling. Besides, you should be careful what you wish for, because what if what I want to write about you isn't what you want to hear? Hey? Didja think about that? I didn't think so. Now, back to work, people, we're not here for our health!!