UPCOMING SHOWS

Seem to be having a slight hiatus this month. But keep checking, you know how I get restless.

x
r.

Ten minute misconduct.

I think the worst has passed. I seem to have stopped sobbing, so that's good. I went upstairs to make tea, which I was avoiding because I didn't want to sick myself in this state on my darling roomies. Anyway, they both came in the kitchen and hugged me while I cried. Oh oh. I may start again just writing about it. Had some peppermint tea and watched the Chappelle show and the Daily Show. I enjoyed those. Jon Stewart suspiciously left Bush alone tonight. Weird.

So here's the thing. I thought I should be alone in order to keep my shit off everyone's "to worry about" list. But alone, while usually in such short supply and so desperately desired by me, is maybe not the best thing right now. I was much calmer with Chris and Katrin in the room. I felt normalized. At least, I didn't feel like I'd do myself or someone else a harm. Now I'm back in my room, alone, and I feel the whole thing creeping up on me again.

I am trying not to be a whiny little crybaby, but I am feeling serious stress lately. I know I'm not living where it's war torn, or plagued by famine, disease or disastrous weather...but I'm all wound up anyway.

Did you see Tom Cruise on the Today show lipping off about how there's no such thing as a chemical imbalance and how psychiatry is a pseudo science that he doesn't believe in? I think he's imbalanced. It's not good for people to live so far removed from reality for so long that they think they know everything about everything because their movies make a lot of money. He's becoming a dangerous man. Run, Katie, run!

I'm hoping the worst of the self loathing is over. I'm hesitant to say "all better", because, you know, the stressors are all still in place. Firmly. But I think I'll make it through the night without wanting to evaporate. Uch. I'm puffy in the eye area and now having a crazy sneezing fit. I'm probably allergic to crying, or self pity.

God, I feel like crap. I can't wait to have enough money to pay my rent. Barf. That was me barfing from anxiety. I hate when I can't eat. Uh oh. I have five new emails. I bet they're from you guys, being nice. Thanks.

x
r.

I am an open wound.

Don't read this if you don't want to get upset.

Ok. This is as naked as it gets. I am a useless piece of shit. I can not take care of myself. I haven't eaten in two days. I have no desire to eat. Or bathe. I had to force myself to shower this morning. I am crying and crying. I am so grateful to my roomates for taking care of me this past year, but it's clearly taken it's toll on them. I'm not wearing my glasses right now, so if there are errors, put it down to blindness and tears. And snot.

I'm being glib and I don't feel one bit glib. I feel like dying. That's the most honest I can be right now. I see what my horoscope meant by out of control. I feel very out of control right now. I can't see my way clearly.

I feel like I can't enjoy enything, and that any laughter I have experienced lately has been forced. I completely don't want to do anything anymore. I don't want to work. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to eat. I don't want to fuck. How can I not want to fuck? All I want to do is curl up and expire quietly. I wish I had a feeding tube in so someone could just take it out.

I'm sure this sounds drastic. But I feel low.

And angry.

And sad.

And so fucked up.

And helpless.

And deserted. I feel very deserted. Please don't take this personally, I know you love me....it's deeper than that.

I want someone to check me in somewhere. I don't even want to go to therapy. I don't know how to get anyone to understand that I need help, but I don't know what to ask for. I need my dad. I need to be held by my dad. This fucking sucks.

I feel like my heart is shrivelling up into a husk. Like the rosehip that falls off after the petals have all withered and dropped.

I don't think I should put anyone through living with me anymore.

I don't even want to try to get it right.

I wonder how much I would have to be held to feel better. Enough to make up for all the time I haven't been held. That's a lot of holding. Who would be willing to take that on? No one in their right mind, that's for sure. I can't breathe. I mean, my nose is full of snot, but I also feel like my chest is full of lead.

I've got to get out of here before I do something stupid. I'm sorry if I do something stupid. I'm not very smart right now.

Cookie Toss

Well, that was a lot of puking for one day. I don't know what happened, but a little while after I got home from work today I began to feel incredibly nauseous. Then, whammo. It was gross. I don't seem to have other symptoms, maybe I feel a little hot. I have to say, I was thinking, "Why am I getting sick so much?", but I think I've come to the conclusion that it's anxiety induced. I'm pretty wound up. I have a couple of things to sort out, I guess. We're all well aware of the money stress I feel, (could ya hear more about it more often? I must sound like a broken record.), but I have a couple of personal things going on that I was thinking about tonight, after I was nauseous but before I was sick, and when I thought about these personal issues, that's when I could really feel it in my stomach. Very clear message from my body. Sort it out.

The matters are hard for me to get into here, what with them involving people that I'd rather talk to before they read something about themselves. A very dear friend of mine inadvertantly, (at least I hope it was inadvertant, if not we got a whole other headache. Humph. Hadn't thought of that before. I must say, it just really cheered me up to say "humph". That IS fun.), anyway, he inadvertantly insulted my chosen career, my number one love. It was quite belittling, and I was a bit too taken aback to say anything. I think it's festering. I was going to just let it go, or save it up, probably...but I'd better have a talk with him. You can't find friends like him just anywhere. Hmph. Ha!

The other thing is that I heard that some other comedians were mad at me over the whole Robin Williams fifty dollars thing...it seems everybody told everybody, as did I, and somewhere along the line it got interpreted as my having bummed money off him. Which is gross. Apparently everyone is quite protective of his presence, as it is so good for the comedy scene here, and apparently he's been harassed in the past...but, listen up, people, we just had a bloody nice conversation. I was with him the way I am with any other comics, which makes me kind of insecure about what the other comics actually think of me. I didn't think it would stick with me, but it has. It's the first time I've felt anything other than total friendliness, support and encouragement. It's kind of like I was cute when I wasn't serious about comedy, but now that I am, it's a whole new ballgame. My relationships with comics has totally changed. It's too bad. Some of them I really, really like. I don't know. My relationship with myself has totally changed, too, so that's gotta be part of it. Maybe I'm less lugubrious than I used to be. I just wanna do what I wanna do, and fuck 'em if they don't like it. I think they maybe don't like that as much as me draping myself all over them. Huh. Neat.

I'm feeling curmudgeonly and put upon.

I need a lover, STAT.

Do you know, it's getting harder to tell my secrets on this thing? I'm so glad everyone reads it, but now that everyone reads it, I'm finding it much more challenging to be honest. But I'm trying very hard, because I think it's a big deal for me to reveal this much of myself. I'm loudmouth, and I like to get into scandalous detail, but I'd say my bravado in the past has largely been a buffer between what I thought people wanted to see and what I really am. But I'm getting a fuck of a lot comfier with who I really am, so it's healthy, I think, to let other people in on it. That felt good to say. This whole entry feels good to write. Mabye I'm not writing enough. Maybe...sheesh, OBVIOUSLY I'm not writing enough. I'm making myself sick with not writing enough.

Oh, you guys. Thanks for listening. I'm quite surprised how much people like to read this.

x
r.

Countdown to normal

This is my horoscope from the Georgia Straight this week:

"Make sure you have control of whatever you are in - or on - especially from June 25 to 28, as things could get crazy and out of control in a heartbeat. After June 28 the choppy seas become calm and you can resume your journey."

I like to read my horoscope, but don't place too much stock in it, or at least, no more than I place in anything else. However, this one is bang on. I don't know what happened yesterday, but I came home from work and devolved into a mess of anger and sadness. Thought about bailing on my show last night, then gave myself a little lecture about my committment to comedy. "You call yourself a comic? Then you better get your ass to a comedy show, lady." So I did. Cried the whole way there. Like, unavoidable crying. As soon as I pulled away from the house, just burst into tears. Sometimes my car is the safest place to do that, I guess. My house was full of people when I got home, all bbqing and stuff. Nowhere to be alone. I tried not to open my mouth because I could tell that nothing nice was going to come out. I wish my horoscope would say why everything would be out of control for three days. But it sure is. Two more days to go....

x
r.

And it rhymes with "p"...

Okay, here's the thing. My life is weird. That's all there is to it. Like, it might be weird forever. I was recollecting tonight that when my brother was 17 he came down to LA to visit me...right there, I realized for the first time, that it must have been pretty cool to be a 17 year old guy going to visit your sister in LA. Then I was remembering how that was the first time he did ecstasy, and that we did it together, with a bunch of my friends, and it was awesome. Then our sainted mother called to talk to us and I told her we'd done ecstasy and she said, "Oh, I wish I could have been there!". Which, I think, may explain some things about me and my brother.

Anyway. I was thinking that it might never get less weird, I might always be a dorky, sex crazed, financial disaster. Well, I thought, if that's what I got, I might as well run with it. So, I don't know. I guess I feel a spell of trouble coming on. Good and bad kinds of trouble. We'll see. It'll probably come out even. That runs in my family.

With a capital "T".

x
r.

Good Story!

Wanna hear a good story? I was so bummed out yesterday...well, frustrated is more like it, (thanks, by the way, for all your kind and wise words), that I wanted to hit something. So I got all productive and cleaned and rearranged for a few hours. That was pretty good. Then I realized I had to jump in the shower and race out to do TWO shows. Yup, TWO shows in one night. That's only the second time I've done that. So I get to the Cotton Club, go up first, usually not the best slot to have hot sets, but I killed. It was awesome. I think it's good when I'm angry because I use all that energy on stage. They were a rowdy bunch, too, but I made them listen. So then I run outta there and go up to Zizanie a few blocks away. Now, Zizanie is not always that full, and I have never had a particularly good set there, so I'm not sure how it's gonna be. But I get there and it's so packed people are spilling out onto the street. And standing outside, calmly chatting with his manager, is Robin Williams. Nobody is bothering him, so I go up and interrupt and we end up having a really nice chat for quite a while. It somehow comes out that my cell phone was cut off because I spent so much money on the car...etc...and he says he's sorry he's not carrying that much cash with him or else he'd just pay for it. We laugh. I have a nice conversation with his manager, David Steinberg, and then I gotta run in and do my set. They say they'll come watch. Again, I KILL. Awesome, awesome set. I get back outside and Robin asks how it went, I tell him it was great. He says he just made it inside for my pussy eating joke, and then says I'm his people. Ha! Then he reaches in his pocket and takes out a fifty dollar bill and hands it to me and says to put it towards my phone. I tell him I can't take it, he insists, I get a bit teary, he says cut it out, I tell him I'll take him out for dinner one day, he says that would be nice. Then I tell him thanks, but I should warn him that I'm pretty bad with money so I'll probably just take the 50 bucks and get ten five dollar hookers. He and David crack up. Apparently they've never heard the phrase five dollar hooker and now it is their favourite. We spend the next ten minutes making five dollar hooker jokes and now Robin Williams and David Steinberg think I'm hilarious and will never forget me.

Do you think this means something?

I do.

I think it was one of THOSE nights. The one where you tell the story years later, knowing that was a big moment, a turning point, the night you knew for sure you were going to make it. I think it was that night.

Then I came home and wrote a brilliant bit about Scientology and a whole bunch of other jokes. I have new jokes!!!

I still have no phone, and an unopened envelope from Revenue Canada, containing God knows what, and rent next week, and and and....but one day I'm going to be very, very successful at what I do and will never ever be in this position again. So I will bear down and move forward, with my eye on the prize.

I love what I do. I never want to do anything else.

Robin Williams gave me fifty dollars.

x
r.

A lot of swearing follows.

That's it. I quit. I am so fucking tired of being so fucking poor. I am tired of relying on the kindness of others. I am tired of having a job and still being poor. My fucking phone got cut off today because I had to spend $700 on the fucking car this week. Fuck. I don't know how to do what I'm doing. I can see a clear path to success with my comedy, with writing, but in the interim I feel defeated and useless. I am doing so many shows, and working as much as I can, I can't use any more of my time because I will collapse. I need to sleep and eat. More useless stupid job days mean less comedy time. Which means less likely to succeed any time soon. I want to hit something.

I am so fucking frustrated that no one has answers for me. I was led to believe that grownups knew what the fuck was going on, but, apparently, this is untrue. Apparently I AM a grownup now and should be able to figure this out. HA! I am an idiot. Just last month I had a conversation with my roommates about being more reliable with rent, and now I'm looking down the barrel at not having it on time AGAIN. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why is it not satisfying to say fuck fuck fuck as many times as possible.

I had a mediocre set at El Cocal last night and I'm sure it's because I'm so fucking preoccupied with not knowing what the fuck to do. I have two shows tonight and I have very little faith that either of them is going to be any better. Fuck.

Does anyone have any fucking answers for me? Fuck.

r.

H2O

I planted dahlia tubers recently and their little green heads are poking out and looking all sticky and new. Sweet little darlings. I think they are my new children. I'm worried because only 3 of the 4 are growing...I think my 4th may be a "special" dahlia tuber. But, of course, I'll love it no matter what. Probably I'll love it even more.

So father's day kind of came and went. I had a missing my dad week, but, honestly, it was a different kind of missing. It didn't rip my heart out and make me fall down. It's not that it felt good, it was still painful, but tempered with some sweetness, too. I think he would be very, very proud of the work I'm doing, and, I gotta be honest with you, I think he's taken to inhabiting my body sometimes. I swear, I am coming up with funny things that are sooooo him. Plus, I've noticed a fierce desire to write political humour coming out. I have decided that I want to write for a political radio or tv show. It feels soooooooooooo good and like I'm right in my element. I guess I could start trying to write more political humour for standup, too. I've kind of figured something out about the process of writing political stuff that made it seem less daunting.

We have a sprinkler going in the back yard and I'm of two minds about it. It's very pleasant, and I love our plants getting a nice drink...but....I feel a little guilty about it. I have a real thing about wasting water. It makes me feel really selfish. One of these days it'll all be gone. It worries me, water.

As I have said it, the news comes on with stories of widespread flooding in Alberta. The poor prairies. Drought or flood, eh? Poor guys. As I complain when it drops below 18 degrees celcius. Oh, it's raining for an afternoon, poor us in Vancouver.

I really think I have to give up boys. I don't even seem to have time for my own self right now. Comedy is the only things I want to put energy into. How will I ever acheive tha balance I long for? Perhaps if I really longed for balance I would have chosen an easier lifestyle. So.

I have new little idea for a play...it's called "Cancer. Taxes. A Love Story." I'm going to start writing it tonight.

Benny and Joon is on tv. I haven't seen this movie for years. Huh. I kind of forgot about it.

Hey, you know what? I watched "Sideways" last night and I didn't really think it was what everyone said it was. I liked it, but thought the script was pedestrian. Very sitcommy, hit you over the head dialogue at moments. And I thought Thomas Haden Church was middling at best. Paul Giamatti was good, though, and I liked the women very much. It makes me happy that Sandra Oh is getting so much work. I think she rocks. She's super sexy in this movie, too.

I gotta get my own tv show.

xx
r.

Destiny's Child, Sept 10th!! Woohoo!!

Good show tonight at Darby's. I wrote a new joke right before I went on stage and tried it and it totally went over, so that was awesome.

Remember when I used to be erudite and interesting? I am finding this blog to be seriously lacking in heart lately. What the hell? I think I am feeling very protective of myself. Huh. Neat. Apparently it's making me stupid. God, what if I'm like Sampson and my power was all in my hair???

I am feeling oddly and particularly prescient tonight. I was at the Jupiter watching some comedy and all of a sudden was compelled to leave. Like, right then. I walked towards my car and promptly ran into two old, dear friends. I would have missed them if I hadn't walked past just then. I didn't think that much of it. But THEN....I was calmly watching television, minding my own business, when I had a hankering for a peanut butter sandwich. I went into the kitchen to make it and spotted my cell phone on the counter. This was at about 12:45am. I looked at the phone and thought, "someone is calling me soon, I better turn the ringer off so as not to wake Chris and Katrin". So I turned off the ringer and went back to the couch. Um, with a sandwich, also. Delicious, in case you were wondering. Shortly after, I decided it was bed time, (where you now find me), and went to get my phone and it had, indeed been ringing. I knew I was going to get some kind of late night crazy phone call today. It's not even a full moon. I have theories on prescience as related to emotional experience and being receptive to the ability....blah, blah, blah, right?

I'm kind of missing Sean today. I think about him, but I miss his body today. I mean, his whole presence. It's possible that the presence of a warm body might be more what I miss than specifically Sean, I'm not sure I can untangle the two feelings right now. Which may actually be some sort of indicator to myself that I should not be getting romantically led astray.

I am marinating in sleep. Nighty night.

x
r.

God, I'm dumb.

Ok, so before anyone even told me I was watching an ad on TV and realized Father's Day wasn't yesterday AT ALL. How did I make this mistake? Probably because my father wasn't around to remind me about when we're taking him out for lunch. Luckily I think I've gotten the angst out of my system, so I don't think I'll bother getting worked up this week...sheesh.

x
r.

Oh, yeah. It's father's day today. It's not as bad as I thought it was going to be, the build up was not so good. I can't believe he's not coming back.

What was she thinking?

I have gone off the rails. Two days ago I cut my own hair. Are you listening? I CUT MY OWN HAIR. I have never cut my own hair. It was out of control and depressingly fried and I'm so poor...I just couldn't take the hideousness and I grabbed my sewing scissors and chopped. It is considerably shorter now, and cute as heck, and totally even. In four minutes, with sewing scissors no less, I gave myself a haircut you cannot tell did not come from a salon. I am pretty proud. And very grateful, as I am well aware it could have gone very, very badly.

Shows in Bellingham went really well. Especially last night, we has so much fun. For the first time we tried Gorilla Theatre played with a theme and it was great. We are really aiming for our shows to be more a night of theatre than a night of improv games, so that gives us lots of leeway to try things that aren't happening in other improv theatres. Very satisfying show. I'm finding it hard sometimes to go back and forth between improv and standup, they are so different. Plus it kind of takes it out of me to do the Bellingham gigs, then I have to give up on things like my standup show tonight, due to needing to be at work at 8:30 tomorrow morning and this being my only day off. I have to have a day in my life where I don't work or do shows. Just one. It might be Fridays, though I suspect that Sundays is really the one. Balance, balance.

I'm going to lie down. Later we can discuss my ridiculous night last night. As I was dry heaving into the toilet I just kept thinking, "this is the worst night of my life", which is certainly not true, but just then I will say that I felt worse than I have...well....when did I feel worse...can't think of a time since I was 14. But pneumonia was bad, as was strep throat. God, though, I thought someone slipped me pcp or something last night I was such a mess. Very classy.

r.

Somewhere for your Secrets

Oh, oh, oh. I have just been shown the most beautiful thing. Cut n' paste, as STILL can't figure out how to make the links live...

www.postsecret.blogspot.com

How come it took so long to find out about this? Did YOU know about this? I am spending the day making postcards. (Go to the site. Seriously.)

Candy?????

I keep logging on to write and then changing my mind. I have felt weird pressure lately with writing this. I think now that I know how many people read it, I can get caught up in worrying about whether it's good writing. Which is the opposite of what was supposed to happen with this blog. Eh, now that I've said it, actually, now that I've started writing this, it doesn't seem like a big deal. I've caught it, now I can move on. I think it's doing something good for me to expose myself like this. Something about spilling your guts and people still wanting to get near you. Like, I was pretty sure for a long time that if anyone knew how dark I was or weird or dirty or whatever, that'd be it. Sayonara crazy lady. But I know better now. Plus, it gets to be a bit much to worry about whether people like you, what with all the other things one tries to keep aloft in one's life. Family, love, death, taxes. The biggies.

I'm a bit itchy to do comedy. I'm not as nice to people and I show off more at parties when I haven't done a set. I'm much more unseemly. Since I figured this out it's been pretty good incentive to keep booking shows. I know if I keep doing the shows, the rest of my life will be much less embarassing. I can just fall right over into badly behaved with hardly any effort whatsoever. Easy as pie....

It's my rock star complex.

God, I want to be famoush. Is that wrong? (I love the word famous with an "h" added, I don't know why. It really funnies it up. Say it...famoush. So drunk!)

peace, love, candy,

r.

Huh?

Wow...my whole body has been put through the ringer the last couple of days. Was working for a catering company at these two big outdoor events. Many many many many racks of glasses and dishware, big tables to carry. Hours and hours of heavy lifting and running and running. Sore, but feels good, too. Like I just finished the biathalon at the olympics. Sometimes I forget that my body really likes physical work. Chop wood, carry water, all that. It steps up to the plate and responds, my body does. I like a good sweat, you know?

The events were for a group called BALLE BC, (Business Alliance for Local Living Economies), who are a group of business people devoted to sustainable local economies. Very interesting people. Diverse, smart, senses of humour. It was a pleasure to work an event where the guests didn't treat us like the help. I chatted with lots of the guests and, in fact, knew lots of people there. The second night David Suzuki spoke, and it was wonderful. He has this remarkable knack for giving you a very tangible sense of how deeply in crisis we are, but then leaves you feeling like you have the power to help change things. Like, if everyone just does something tiny, together we will do something big. So don't get overwhelmed, just do something tiny. He was basically addressing the relationship between economy and the environment, and reminding us of the dangers of thinking of economics as a science instead of a belief system, which is what it is. It was encouraging, that's for sure. Raffi played, too, but his music sucks.

Me and my stepmother talked about my dad for, like, an hour and a half this morning. It was good, we had such a great talk, but hard, too. I miss him like crazy. This whole divulgence of the identity of Deep Throat would have been right up our alley. Not to mention Belinda Stronach and the BC election, and the Sponsorship inquiry. Well, this is just a very juicy political time and I wish he were around to get into it. Why did we fight so much, we liked all the same things? Weird. The more I do, the more I think he'd like me, and now I'm getting kind of grumpy that he's not around to be my friend. Plus, it's father's day on Sunday next. I'm not really loving the tenterhooks, not knowing how it's going to feel. I feel very anxious about it. I'm feeling a lot of anxiety about a lot of things lately, mostly about my dad and about money. Bleah.

I gotta go to sleep. My brain is all over the map just now.

x
r.

Tag Your Man, Tag Your Man

I did not do anything comedy related tonight and although I had a good time eating steak and socializing, I feel like I played hookey, and also like I cheated myself. Very interesting.

Plus, The Daily Show was weeeeeeeak today. And yesterday. Um, Mr. Stewart? Are you letting your writers get lazy? For God's sake, man, you are our beacon of hope.

Oops, gushed.

Anyway, I like it when my tv watching time is well spent. That's why I love Dance 360!

x
r.

And You Were Here To Witness It...

Very, very good set at the competition last night. Wow. Killed, for real. Other comics were congratulating me after, and then, tonight at the El Cocal, comics who weren't even at the show last night were saying they heard I killed. Other comics are discussing my set. This is fantastic. I get it now, how you're only as good as your last show. I gotta keep rockin' it. It has so paid off to be so focused on the competition and to just do show after show. I have definitely stepped it up a level. Had a nice little set at the El Cocal tonight, too. I thought I would bomb for sure because last night went so well, but, man, I just love it so much. Five or six minutes just isn't enough for me now. I want more. I did, like, ten minutes or something the other night at Jupiter and I LOVED it. It felt good to really feel the audience out, chat sometimes, not try to get as many jokes out as I can in five minutes. More time for them to see more of me.

I'm having an epiphany right this minute. Oh, my, God. Ok. So all this time I've been thinking that my big challenge was to bring all the elements of myself into my comedy, that I not come off as one note. But, doing a longer set and having time to reveal more of myself....well....it's longer, so I can. So it's not that I am so far away from where I want to be with my material, it's that it's hard to fit everything about me into 5 minutes. Huh. That's a relief. Don't get me wrong, my material still has a long way to go, and I need lots more of it, but I find it kind of relaxing realizing there are other factors that come into play than just my own inability to communicate what I want. Yay, I'm not a total jerk!

Goin' to bed now. Thinking maybe getting to sleep before 4am might do me some good.

kisses, darlings,

r.