Gi' yer head a shake

I did. I did give my head a shake today. Had to. Was starting to go in circles in there. Here's what I thought of, and why. I thought about how sometimes I try to be what I think other people want me to be and then get all stressed out because I'm not being myself. And then resent them for wanting me to be something other than what I am. Even though it's only what I thought, not what they thought. I. Am. So. Weird. I thought about how I've done this for a long time. I don't want to do it. It's not as chronic as it once was, but it wasn't so present while I was on the meds. Every day, man, there's a new bit of old weirdness rearing it's head and demanding I finally deal with it. Which, I suppose, means I'm growing. Awww.

Why I thought of it. I was emailed the following a couple of days ago:

"The CBC is looking for a HOST for a new lifestyle show to air in January. The show will be a local guide to better living in the lower mainland. ... If you are enthusiastic...an entertaining interviewer...quick on your feet...a good writer, comfortable on camera, please apply!"

I want it. But I also just wanted to do the applying. Get all the stuff written and together, stuff I can use in the future for other things. And while I was working on THE LETTER this afternoon I realized how much I wanted them to want ME. Not for me to try to be what I think they want. How little point there would be in getting this not based on what I could truly deliver. I know. Simple. And then the thought ran around my brain and applied itself to the rest of my life.

I am constantly trying new ways to not panic. I am much, much better at it than I used to be. There is a freaking avalanche of things I am learning, and quickly. I am all the things I am, and my essence is good. I just have to keep the doubting synapses from firing. Oxygen seems to silence them. So breathing is very, very important.






Help each other out. Show your love.



Gumboots and snowboard socks. The winter footwear of champion west coasters.

There is snow here. Snow snow snow. I love the way everything moves in slow motion in the snow. I also love how this is just winter everywhere else in Canada, but here, a major event. Major enough to be news on the national CBC. Oh, the Ceeb. A friend has recently introduced me to a show called "The Great Eastern". If you don't know of it, you should really check it out. I'll post the link over there. ---> You know the spot. Funny and smart.

This same friend has been trying to help me get up and running on soulseex, or whatever the hell it's called. I can't quite get it to work.

You know what. I thought I was feeling articulate, but I'm not. Oooh, my brow was all furrowed and I didn't realize it 'til just now. I relaxed it and suddenly..peace. I had a sort of boyfriend once who used to press his thumb between my eyebrows, and make me untense there. He said it was impossible to be anxious when you stayed relaxed there. He was right. I use that a lot.

What on earth is she anxious about now? Oh, for Christ's sake. What amn't I worried about. It's good good to have work. There is a deadline looming for something, and I am a bit anxious about that. Trying not to be stupefied into inactivity. Big days tomorrow and Wednesday, trying to meet that deadline. I think it will entail leaving my house to get the writing part of it done. It is soooooo easy to get distracted in my room. Anyway, I've blabbed to a few people about this thing, which I want very badly, but think that it's really the application that's important. Putting together a self promotion package.

This is one of those moments. Where I am on the verge of something, and could really set myself back by not really trying, or I could just do the thing and do it well, and then no matter how it turns out, I am further ahead because at least I did the thing.

It is cold in my room. Haven't finished all the construction yet, so no heater. Although, not as cold as I thought it would be. But cold enough that this bed would be nice with someone else in it. Form a protective layer of heat between us and that icy night. Mmmm. That's a nice thought. The kind of thought that makes it very, very easy not to furrow my brow.

Just think about nice things, lady.

(I almost called myself by my own name there, and it was WEIRD. I don't think I have ever uttered my own name on this blog and it was alarming to see it almost entirely spelled out. I got the first letters down, but not the last letter. I stopped and erased it. It's like saying Rumplestiltskin or Betelgeuse, or something. Something would HAPPEN. I know most of you know who I am, but...God, I can't put my finger on it. But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't use my name.)

Just think about nice things and everything will be okay. Try to flood your own brain with seratonin. On an as needed basis. Train myself to release happy juice. (Oooh, my kingdom for some red wine and chocolate)

Countdown to winter in the woods. Feeling excited, except for the part where I think I'm going to be underdressed. I all of a sudden have no puffy coat and no winter boots. I'm going to have to take a serious look at things. Layers. I have more than one puffy vest, so that's good. And many, many layers. Fleece is nice, but sometimes it's so dry up there that fleece gets staticky.

Why on earth am I talking about static cling.

I had the weirdest conversation with someone on the phone today. A fellow comic, who's on tour right now. I was sort of hoping he'd be back, because he's got access to a tape of a set of mine that I'd like...so I phoned him, and he answered, and I said who it was...(he knows me, that's important in this story)...so I said who I was and there was this long pause. Long. Bank line up long. Then he says, "Okay". And the tone made it sound like "Am I supposed to know? Or care?". And he was like that the whole conversation. It was awkward as hell. Comics are so awkward.

Do you guys know how much I love comedy? I love it so much. A girl at work (I know, it sounds weird even to me), was asking me today about my influences and stuff. And I had so much fun just thinking about all the comedy I listened to growing up, and what I liked about them as a kid, and what I like about them now.

So. Tomorrow. Just send me smart vibes, wouldja?




Well. Very good set, indeed tonight at Yuk Yuk's. I would have laughed if I was watching it. I realize that's when I feel like I've been good. If I thought it was funny. I know it makes sense, but I sort of lost track recently about why I wasn't feeling good about my sets, even if other people laughed or complimented me. I just didn't think I was funny. But then tonight...well...I was funny. It started last night, at the Alibi thing, but tonight. I have to ride this out. It's been a while since one felt like I was doing the right thing with my life. Tried the model jokes from last night. People liked them. And, fortuitously, someone was taping the show tonight. Also good. Been very lazy about taping sets. Or, perhaps I was reluctant due to not finding myself funny. Why would I want that on tape?

Good. Funny. Work coming. Good.




Well, last night was hilarious. Emceed and hosted a fashion show/fundraiser. A whole new scene, man. There were hors d'oeuvres...and do you know what I saw??? Models...EATING! Of course, there was a really long line for the women's washroom..(ooh, zing!) I told a bunch of model/eating disorder jokes last night, they seemed to go over pretty well. At first there was a bit of oohing, but then I said, "oh, are you guys feeling sorry for the models?" and they were all like, "yeah", and I was like, "because they've been such a marginalized people for so long?", and they were all, "...hahahahahahaha". So, I won them over. The microphone apparently ran on a 9 volt battery and it was dying as the show started, so, that's always good for a comic. A scratchy mike that's hard to hear. Sweet. Didn't stay for the party, couldn't quite stomach it. Packed in there. Good news was the show was short. Kept it moving.

Had to turn down work today. Had to make some smart decisions with regards to longer term planning. Could have taken jobs which started right now, but with very little long term usefullness, and would have conflicted with jobs that I have to wait a week or two for, but which will inevitably lead to future comforts.

Am going to the Caravan for the winter show there, so I'll be out of Vancouver around December 7th or so. Depending on how I plan to get there. How, indeed! Let's all keep our fingees crossed it's not going to be the Greyhound, but I bet it is. Whee. I gotta get all my winter gear together, too. Hm. Whatever shall I wear? It has just come to my brain that I don't actually have winter boots anymore. I wore out my Sorrels and my Emus. Hm. I suppose I could get some liners for my gumboots.

Sorry, that was the inside of my head for a second. Remember how pretty my writing has been lately on this blog? Yeah, remember that? Today, not so much.

Have a show at Yuk Yuk's tonight. 3 1/2 hours away and my tummy's already making a bit of a spectacle of itself...roiling around in there. Calm down, tummy!! We'll be funny! It'll be okay! Sheesh. It's only 5 minutes of my life. What can possibly go wrong? Ha. Ha. Ha.

I think I'll try to do the material about models. I enjoyed that. I wonder if it will translate. I gotta go and figure it out.




Another storm coming. Boil boil boil.

I had some big plans for this rainy, rainy morning. But the first thing that happened was that my mum called to deliver the sad news that our good friend Rodney Gage passed away. Rodney was a great presence in my life. He was this tall, gorgeous black man who played the pedal steel guitar like angels lived in his very fingers and toes, and when he would sing strong men wept. When I was born my parents held me and then he did. He loved telling the story and showing his great big hand and how I fit right in his palm. He was a bit of a shady character, and fostered complicated relationships in his life, not always tender or respectful of the feelings of those closest to him - his wife, Connie and his son, Joaquin. But we are all a bit broken, are we not? And everyone has their story, and makes their choices to live and die as they will.

Rodney had been ill for quite a while, at first being diagnosed with bladder cancer a couple of years ago, against which he fought valiantly. Chemo and more chemo. Then, a few months ago, they found brain cancer. He has been on a steady decline since. As far as I know he passed peacefully, at home, (ish, as much as home is where you hang your hat). He and my mother were very close and she is quite sad, though unable to come here right now as she is up to her eyes with the pending opening of her show. My heart goes out to her, since I know she would like to come down and be with Connie right now.

My own relationship to this passing is still out of my body. It has been a long time since Rodney and I saw each other with any regularity, but I did see him a few times a year. I think for both my brother and I it touches on the passing of our own dad, and makes it slightly confusing to untangle the emotions. Certainly this has not got my innards spilling out onto the ground, stinging and sharp, as the pain was with Phil. But the weather seems appropriate, and I think this is a more reflective kind of grief, a softer kind. Something more fond and sweet, less despairing.

The thing I have noticed about death is it's ability to bring people together. Phil's death had the lovely effect of reconnecting me with two old friends, and the connection continues. There is a woman I have been very close to in my life, and this year things fell apart. It has been a layered break up, and I think about it all the time. Not sure whether I am doing the right things, divesting myself of it, etc. But it has been what it has been. Rodney had a real fondness for her, as they used to see each other a lot at my family's house, years ago. He always asked after her and thought she was wonderful and lovely. So I called her today to tell her. We had a good, if slightly forced conversation, and we are going to see each other tomorrow. I'm trepidatious, but it will likely be sweet. I feel like staying guarded, but I know that that can sometimes make me icy, which I don't want to be.

I have also had several phone calls regarding work, which is heartening. Looks like I will be able to start at a couple of things this week, and have some interviews as well. And a couple of choices to make. Feast or famine, right?

So now I am off to the Bodyworlds exhibit at Sciencworld, which is an interesting choice for today.

Hug someone today, I know I will.

Peace, kindness.



Turbidity. Literally and metaphorically.

You know what really gets on my tits? MySpace. That friggin' site never works properly. I'm tired of having anything to do with it. Sigh. Another first world problem.

We have turbid water. Vancouver. You probably heard about it on the news. Cause when the water goes bad, that gives us all a little peek into the future. IGA ran out of bottled water today and told everyone there was a shipment coming at 9pm. Remember how people trampled each other for Cabbage Patch dolls? You could see the madness in their eyes. Two cases per person only! And the people wanted it, bad. You can't brush your teeth in mud, it seems. I kind of like saying turbidity. You have to take your time. You can't say it fast, mush it up, rush it. Which makes it really feel like what it is. Onomatopoeia for the masses.

Job seeking looking up. Have an assessment at a temp agency on Monday. Two hours of testing and interviews to determine what I'm appropriate for. Apparently they have plenty of light industrial work, which I'd rather do than reception. The more I have to deal with objects and the less with people, the happier I will be. Hoping they can put me to work right away cause....

My agency called yesterday to inform me they had fired my agent. Of course they did! Am marching down there tomorrow to make sure they put me on someone else's roster, cause this girl wants work and wants it bad. Course, christmas is coming and that's a sloooooow time in the industry, but, hell, I'll take work in January.

I'm going to try to get to sleep before midnight tonight. Pretty impressive, eh?

Don't drink the water.



Fighting the bug.

Okay. Am okay. Am eating garlic on toast, (two raw cloves in an effort to fight the bug), listening to hilarious and excellent "Ideas" on CBC radio. It's about the phallus in ancient Greece and Rome. Boy, if you thought men were obsessed with their members nowadays...wowsers. I'll tell you this, there's a lot of tittering going on amongst the people on this program. You'd think they could make an hour about penises and male sexuality on CBC without all these grownups covering their mouths and giggling every ten seconds. Interesting info, though.

One clove down. Ooh, can feel that in the belly. Whew. Nobody better come in my room in the next 12 hours. Stinkeroo.

So I was grouchy, but I just had to remember that I like my time alone and rest and not get sick. Yeah, no sickness. Or, rather, no MORE sickness.

And there you have it.

Oh, yay. Another storm on it's way. I love rain. Love it love it love it.

Remember last night when I was feeling like all was right with the world and stuff? That was a nice, fleeting moment.

Comedy is making me angry again. Got bumped from Yuk's tonight, even though I would have done it even though I can feel myself coming down with something. Bumped from Balthazar last night. Trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong. Fighting my way upstream right now, wish I felt like anyone took anything I did seriously.

Wish I had some food in the fridge. Zip zap zam, I just did a Jeannie...nope, nuthin'. Huh, guess I'll have to go to the STORE!! What? Groceries? I hardly know how to pronounce it, much less go get some of it.

I think I am a bit grrrrrrrumpy having spent all, (I'm not kidding, it's been 8 hours), day reformatting my resume and sending out applications for jobs. If people want you to apply online I think they should be more responsive about it. The temp agency I keep applying to is ignoring me. I'm going down there tomorrow and give them a piece of my mind. Of course, that piece of my mind will consist of a paper copy of my resume and my best sucking up speech ever. Sigh.

Excuse me, I gotta get outta the house before I break someone's accordian.

When time pauses

You know how sometimes you get a little feeling like all is right with the world, just for a minute? Yeah, I'm having that.


Good things in Vancouver

I have just returned from seeing the Borat movie. I am laughed right out, it was that good. I don't want to ruin it for you, but I do want to strongly encourage you to see it if you have not already done yourself the favour. There were moments I was thinking to myself, "stop screaming so loud with laughter, you're going to hurt your throat and face." But I couldn't stop. I couldn't. It was too good.

As well, I was treated to a most magnificent dining experience this evening. There is a new restaurant called FigMint at the corner of 12th and Cambie, in the Ramada Inn, next to the Jolly Alderman. Strange location, stunning restaurant. Every morsel was melty and the cocktails were clearly made by baby angels. Everything, come to think of it, was what food in heaven is going to taste like. (Yup, that's right, I'm going to heaven...I decided. Don't act so surprised. The rules for getting into heaven aren't what you thought they were.) The service was outstanding. Check it out online, know that they made a lot of words up on the menu, but that all the dishes will live up to their crazy names. Ask the bar guy to pair wine with your food, he makes very, very good choices. And thank the chef, I think he's still a teenager.

And, for god's sake, get your ass to the Anza club on Wednesday night for It's Good To Know People, (IGTKP). A great show, you won't be sorry. $5 for so much entertainment you won't believe it.

Be fun to each other.



What did you do last night?

In case you were wondering whether I got drunk last night and wrote some gold jewish jokes, I did. So now you can go about your business. Sorry to keep you waiting all morning while I slothed around.

Tea tea tea. Earl grey saves me in this November miasma. I have lost my rain coat, but gained some gum boots, so I am sort of prepared. Thinking a little autumnal walk on the beach may be in order. Then dinner, then Borat. Oh, sweet, sweet Borat. Sounds good. Sounds...flexible.



This. That. Other stuff.

Hello! Wanted to let you know that I am feeling much better. Have I already told you that? I am very, VERY appreciative of all of your kind words and pithy observations the last while. You all kept me afloat, for sure. I feel like my chemistry has evened out somewhat, though my ass continues to grow. I did, however, just download the application form for free parks board passes for low incomites, like me, and am very excited about starting up a swimming regime for the first time in years. I need a physical release every day. I wanted to get a yoga pass, but I actually think that getting my heart rate up will make me happy. I miss swimming. It's the thing my body responds to the most quickly. Well, that and kissing, but that's a whole other ballgame.

Still feeling a bit leery of my comedy, but I suspect that disciplining myself as a writer is going to go a long way towards making me relax in that department. Convincing everyone who books rooms that I'm serious about it is harder, though, so I'm putting on my game face and picking all the comics' brains to see who will take me on tour with them as their opener, and how I take the next steps in this world.

Went back up to the Okanagan on Thursday, just overnight, and woke up yesterday to snow snow snow. God, I miss the snow. I miss the soft sounds and soft lighting and cool air in my lungs and layers and layers of clothes and the smell of wood smoke and cozying up during a blizzard. However, what I DON'T miss, I discovered yesterday, is driving on the motherfucking Coquihalla highway when the snow is falling. It was mayhem and I almost got into a serious accident. There were cars everywhere, spinning off the road, sliding into the ditch, and we were nearly one of them. Went into a spin, but kept my head and steered into the skid and didn't lock up the brakes and didn't hit the little blue car next to us, but I don't know how I managed to miss it. I did go sideways into the median, though, but luckily for me there was lots of snow piled up against it so no damage to the car. Phew. Bit of a task, driving back.

Am back in my house now, after time away at the Caravan, and time housesitting for a week at my stepmother's, and even though everything is in the exact state is was when I left, I am calmer about it. Just remembering to breathe deeply seems to help. And keeping myself busy with my work. It's all just perspective, right?

So...Monday...finding a job. Going to temp, I hope. Unless anyone else has anything else they need done? I gotta work. For my sanity as much as for my pocketbook. (I don't have a pocketbook, I have a jar, but still...) Soooooo.....looking for work, people....looking for work. Have been sending out lots of resumes and stuff this fall, but nothing has really come of it. I think temping is the best option for me, flexible and variable. I miss delivering flowers, a lot, makes me wish I still had a working vehicle. Have been contemplating the possibility of going to the Caravan to work on the winter show, but I think it's too long away from comedy. Oh, right, actually, I have shows booked the 9th and 16th of December, so can't do it anyway! Hurray for me for having a reason for something!

Now I'm leaving to go to my friend's house for dinner...she is making LOBSTER TAILS!! God, I love having friends in the film catering business. Sweeeeet.

Remember how I always cut my own hair? I have really gone too far this time. Wednesday I got seriously overzealous with the sewing scissors and gave myself "The Mental Patient". It looked good in the Okanagan, where it's so dry that my hair does cool rock n' roll messy things, but the humidity here in Van makes it...erm...slightly ridiculous. I think. Friends maintain that it's not so bad, but I think it's because of my current trick of wearing big hoop earrings. These hoops make everything kind of look ok. I remember that from the early 90's when I never left the house without hoops. It's like I've gone backwards to find myself again so I can move forwards.

So. Swimming, working, writing and possibly one other thing that I can't talk about yet.

Oh, right, AND, on November 20th I've been asked to host and emcee a great event called "Threads of Gastown" at the Alibi Room. It's a fashion event and all the proceeds go towards the Downtown Eastside Women's Shelter's program, WEAVE. (Women Engaged in the Arts - Vision and Empowerment). It's going to be an excellent evening, and I LOVE hosting things, and it's a great cause, so...check out the link over there ====> and get deets from my Myspace site. Love to see any of you there.

And, in case you were wondering, I'm fucking THRILLED about the American midterm election results, not to mention the fallout. See ya, Rummy! (I'm sure Gates is no picnic, but at least he's a seasoned strategist). It was a pleasure to watch Bush be a bit humbled. Of course, the Democrats aren't as funny as the Republicans, so that's a blow to comedy everywhere, but I think it's a fair price to pay.

Be kind to each other, y'all.

Peace, tenderness....



Oh, and...

Just kind of forgot to mention that tonight, November 3rd, was the second anniversary of my dad dying. I was just reading some of the blog entries I made from that time. I think it's time to address this with therapy. I mean, there's grief in all it's forms, and I think I'm through the most crippling of the sadness, but I haven't even begun to deal with the experiences of his illness. The years of deterioration, and the horrors of the last few weeks. There are moments I have tried to revisit, and literally my chest convulses and I have to think of something else. I must remember that these memories are in my cellular structure now, and even if my brain doesn't realize what happened at this time of year, my body does.

Anyway, that is all.

Peace, kindness.


A gem of a day.

Hmm. What to say. I kept putting off an entry for no good reason. Have been wanting to regale you with details of my emergence from under the dark cloud that has been plaguing me of late. Now I have left it 'til I am under eider and the sweet sweet duvet is calling me towards sleeeeeeep. Have had so much red wine in the past two weeks, it is catching up with me. Plus, getting myself back on sleep track and not staying up until 5am might be good. Oh, I am not making any sense whatsoever. I will detail slap you in the next couple of days, but know that I am feeling rosier and I think the ol' magic is back. Feel back in myself, remembering that comedy is fun, and that it's a better show when I have fun. Good sets, new material, relaxed hips...all good. Same struggles exist, but so does perspective and deep breathing. Of course, I have not been at home in the past couple of weeks, either, and that may be making all the difference in the world. I can't wait 'til the renos are done and we can all find out if that is truly what is making things so tense around there.

My darling friend Jane suggested that myself and her pal Garnet may hit it off, so he and I emailed for a bit, commented on each other's blogs and whatnot, and finally met in person today. Was a really nice thing. He is smart, he thinks he is grumpy but he wasn't today, and he claims to hate people but his life is full of them, and he was kind and funny and took a picture of me and put it on his blog, where he said nice things about me and my brain, and I liked that, too. Good day, if rainy. Rain! I think it has begun in earnest, the rain. I hope I am wrong. Although, wearing a hat and keeping the water off my glasses makes it not seem so bad. We'll see if I'm still singing the same tune in March.

How am I going to avoid Christmas this year? Any suggestions?



I am not the ray of sunshine I once thought I would be.

Still pretty tense, y'all. Finding moments of relaxation, which is good. Getting lots of different input from people. The places I find it easiest to be are places where I am alone or with people who could care less whether I am edgy or not. There seems to be a faction that is pushing for myself to cheer up, and soon. That doesn't make it better. I think I have to stop going out for social occasions for a while. I'm just not that good with people. And I think this edginess is going to go on for...god, I don't know. I hope not too much longer.

I am trying, I really am. When the renovations are done and the drywall dust doesn't cover every available surface with a fine, powdery reminder of the state of our home, and the tradesmen are gone, having FINALLY done something right, (we hope), and my things can get unpacked for the first time since May, and I can settle and have a sanctuary, I expect things to be much, much better. I know my work as a comic is proving very challenging, but I am becoming fairly certain that much of my delicate state is due to the upheaved and chaotic living environment.

I am on my way tomorrow morning to the Caravan Farm Theatre, to work as Front of House for their Halloween show. It's a week long gig, and normally I would really be looking forward to the gettin' outta Dodge and into the woods for a bit, but I want to stay here and do shows. It's only a week, but the momentum is the momentum. I wrote so much new material this past week, I'm dying to try it out. I have no idea how it's going to go over, it's definitely different than what I've done before. Dirtier, more confessional. I'm pretty scared. Which, of course, leads me to believe it's the most important direction for me to take. Always do the scariest thing. (Unless you are being approached by a bear, or are accidentally hanging from a tree branch growing out of the side of a cliff, in which case the least scary thing is probably the right thing, you can't do without fear entirely).

Just then I sort of hated myself for being glib right after being sort of deep. I feel cheap sometimes when I lighten things up. Weird, since it's my JOB to make light. What a freakin' connundrum I am to myself.

Here's a strange thought that just went through my head...lately I am really reminding myself of myself as a little girl. So serious and shy and worried.

People have been asking why I have to get edgy and aggressive to go further as a comic. I don't know, but I think it's a bit of defense. Defense against the strange world of misfits that is comedy and their (our) barbed and insecure ways. Defense against my own desire not to be too vulnerable. My sensitivity, I think, is both my greatest gift and my biggest stumbling block. It is what gives me the eye for minutiae in the world, my keen sense of human nature and my compassion, but it is also what makes me nervous, and overly ready to think that people think the worst of me. It keeps me worried. I am working on these things. I need, I think, to find a new therapist and talk to someone. A good friend reflected back at me the other night that there are many factors contributing to my current state and perhaps I needed to pay some of them a bit more creedence than I do. And give myself more time for things to even out, and etc...you know what I'm going to say, since I'm pretty sure I always say the same thing.

Sometimes I feel like I have grown and evolved and learned a thing or two in my near 35 years, (ay yay yay), and sometimes I can't believe I haven't learned a damned thing. I always want thinking of things to mean they are automatically implemented. Alas, not so. I am realizing some things may take a lifetime to even come close to sinking in. Some things may continue to challenge me for 35 MORE years. So. Today is today and we'll see about tomorrow.

I know one thing for sure. And that is comedy. That is the only for sure thing right now.

Another friend told me that if I really felt I needed the edginess to be a better comic, fine, but that if I was edgy in my friendships I would regret it. Basically I feel like what she was saying was get happy or lose friends. Which, in the moment seemed true, but now is kind of pissing me off. Like, I am having a time of it, and that's how it is, and pushing me to be different isn't going to be effective. I need to go through this time. I know it. I realize it's not entirely pleasant for everyone all the time, me most of all, and that I am not my effervescent, makin' friends everywhere I go self, but...I don't know. People go through stuff. And if the friendships I have can't weather this transistion, then I don't really know what to do with them.

I am very torn about being alone vs. trying to make myself be with people. It seems like maybe it's an unhealthy cycle to just be by myself all the time in order to not foist my crap on people, but I think I need a little love, too, sometimes, but I also kind of want to be alone all the time, but etc...circles, circles.

I could use the hugs, though, I really could, even if it seems like I don't want them. It's just that they'll likely make me cry, because a lot of the time, that's what the edginess is - a monumental effort not to cry. I don't know any other way to keep the tears at bay.

I feel very, very strongly in my heart and in my gut that even though this time is so challenging, and a bit ugly, it's a very important time to pay attention. I have such a visceral feeling that if I work through what I'm supposed to work through right now the other side is going to be very, very rewarding. So, I guess I gotta do it my way and accept the consequences and rewards as they come. Because, inevitably there will be lots of each.

I'll leave you there, in an effort to get more than four hours sleep.




It has happened y'all. I found two grey hairs. And I know they are new because they are short. And I have to assume that if there are two, there are more. And I wasn't even looking for them. Well, I wasn't looking for the first one, but I was looking for the second one. Then I stopped looking. Oh, man. I've been so pleased at not having grey hair. But they are new, and I have to assume they have to do with all this new worrying. So. Let's get ourselves together, shall we selves? And calm the fuck down. I don't want to start coloring my hair again. It's a pain. And cancerous. Serenity now, fuckers!


Full of self indulgence and swearing. Pathetic, actually.

I have come to the conclusion that nobody reads this anymore. Thank God! Thank you God! (I am learning to follow instructions, especially my own.)

The strains of Willie Nelson and friends singing "Goodnight Irene" is making me wistful. It is an interesting state to be mad and wistful at the same time. Why am I mad? I haven't got a fucking clue. Except maybe the broken iPod. It tried to leap to it's death off of the Burrard Street bridge the other night, just at the moment it was being of tremendous solace to me, of course, and instead of making it off the bridge and into the water it just crashed to the sidewalk and now it's maimed. I think I heard it say, "I'm hurt real bad".

I seem to feel mad in combination with pretty much any other emotion I'm having at any given time. I wonder if this is just what I'm like. This whole unmedicated thing, it's weird. I don't want to go back, but I'm definitely alarming myself with all the damn feeling of things.

I'm mad that television sucks and is irritating when you can hear it from another room.

I'm mad that I'm almost 35 and have...er...nothing but a fat ass to show for it.

I'm mad that I just wrote that. What a stupid thing to write!

I'm mad that I have to shed so much to move forward with one thing. The sound of closing doors all around me.

I'm mad that I repeat myself on this stupid blog and don't even know it. I mean, I must.

I'm mad that I'm not funnier than I am.

I'm mad that it's raining.

I'm mad that the only person I've ever been sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with is unavailable to me in that capacity.

I'm mad that I could make a list about what I'm mad about for hours.

I'm mad that I probably have to take the greyhound this week. I, as you probably know, am NOT a fan of the greyhound bus. And now that I am no longer dulled by chemical bliss it's even worse.

I'm mad that I'm so much more neurotic than I thought I was.

I'm mad that my neuroses and my anger aren't interesting. (Why are you still reading? Wait. That assumes that someone is reading, when, in fact, we earlier ascertained that no one reads this stupid thing anymore.)

Fuck. What am I doing.

I just needed to write something because I'm totally going mental. All this time on my hands to spend alone and write comedy, it seemed like a good idea, but I'm turning into a total freakshow. It's possible that communal living is not such a good idea for me. People touch your things, and dogs and children make things sticky and hairy. It's cheap, you say, so suck it up. I fucking KNOW why I'm doing it, but that doesn't mean it's easy for me. So fuck off.

Huh. Oddly, it feels very very good to say that. *spoiler alert* I'm going to say it again.


Wait, I think now I need to add to it.

First shut the fuck up, then fuck right off, and on your way to fucking off take out the fucking garbage and don't touch any of my fucking stuff on the way, fucking fucksack fuckery fuckfuckfuckfuck.


By the way, if you are still here, this is likely going to go on for at least a few more paragraphs.

It's possible that I'm mad all the time because I hardly eat anything and my blood sugar is low low low. And if I hardly eat anything, you ask, (fuck you, I say), why am I still such a fat fucking slob? I DON'T KNOW. I ride my bike, I walk everywhere I go, I fuck...nothing. Still sitting on an ass as wide as two asses. (Now is likely not a good time to critcize my poor simile making skills.)

Hm. I just took a call from my good friend Todd Allen. That guy has a way of making it impossible not to look at things with a bit of a rosy spin. What a guy. He made me laugh and suggested that everyone is neurotic. I asked if he thought that when everyone comes home and finds that something of theirs has been moved, like, an inch, do they immediately move it back in a slamming it down kind of way and feel bile rising in their throat and a desire to punch the wall?

The inside of my head is a minefield.

Oddly, I had a really sweet day. It has come to a point where I have to actually be in the middle of something enjoyable to be enjoying anything. Like, as soon as the enjoyable thing is over I'm let loose into the wilderness of my brain again.

I'm really thinking it has a lot to do with blood sugar.

I can't wait until I can always afford groceries. I don't think a constant diet of toast and mr. noodles ever did anyone any good.

Where is my afterglow?! I am being cheated out of wallowing in the joy of moments gone by. Either that means I am spending too much time worrying about the future, or I am solidly in the present. Which is supposed to be a good thing.

What defines a crazy person, I guess, is my question. If I can boil down all my thinking into one sentence. That's what I wanna know. Naturally, because I'd like to detect my own levels of craziness. Boy, narcissism, anyone?

I'll tell you one thing, I am uncovering more of my true nature each and every day, and my true nature is a rank, self serving bitch. And, interestingly, my true nature allows me to not care if I'm a rank, self serving bitch. I just want what I want. So get outta my way, lady on the skytrain who smelled like rotting fruit.

Please, please, God, let me find a way to the Okanagan that doesn't involve me, a bus, and OTHER PEOPLE!! Other people. Ich. They make me hold my nose and not want to touch anything. I can tell I'm going to become a bubble person. I don't mind dirt created in my own environment, or clean dirt, like in the country, but I don't like city dirt, and I really don't like germy, sticky, slimy, stinky, crusty dirt. If my face doesn't stop making the expression it is currently making I am going to become an old sourpuss before my very eyes.

My head hurts. I'm going to make some mr. noodles and toast. Oh, what a meal!


Unrelated but possible existentially related piece of information to follow - Someone very, very special to me gave me a gift yesterday. A wooden Buddha statue. Thin Buddha, not fat Buddha. Anyway, he gave it to me because he has seen me not at my best lately and thought it might help to keep me calm. I am moved each and every time I look at it. Even if I have just had a swearing jag, I look at it and see the love it has been infused with, and I am calmed for a moment. Which, I believe, was the point. It's very soothing to have a reminder that one is loved. It is one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has ever given me. I am quite grateful, actually, and am thinking right now that perhaps I should spend more time with Buddha and less with iBook. Now there's a thought.

As ever, thanks for listening.


do it

hey. patient friends. no real post tonight. just wanted to remind you that if you look slightly to the right of these words -> you will see something that says "Riel's Upcoming Shows". if you click on that it will bring up my myspace page, which has all my standup dates and times listed. check 'er out. there's lots. and y'all keep asking when you can come and see me. so...now...come and see me, bitches! put yer proverbial money where your proverbial mouth is. especially come wednesday the 18th to yuk yuk's when i'm doing the competition and the audience response counts for so much of the score. i kind of want to go to the finals. i think it's going to be an awesome lineup at the finals and i want to be a part of it.

oooo...i'm taking cold medicine and i'm a bit woozy. anyway, come see my show.



Ah, the rollercoaster. She is coasting. And rollering. Have been moody as hell lately. Lots of factors. Relearning who the real girl is, having gone off my celexa/citalopram...SSRI...Selective Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitor...anti anxiety meds. I like being off them, because for sure I feel like myself again. I don't think I really thought I didn't feel like myself, but I knew there was a fog in my brain. (Not a frog in my throat, which is why I sort of quit smoking pot). Anyway, the fog in my brain has lifted, and several things have returned to me which I was forgetting lived in me. Like my body image is a bit screwy again. Definitely looking at myself with a much more critical eye. And I am a moooody beeyatch. Yup, for sure. Easily tipped into a funk or, more likely, an inner monologue tantrum of epic proportions. There is a lot more swearing and several more revenge fantasies in my brain. And the anxiety. Back. However...I like it better. It's weird, because I thought if those things came back I would immediately want to run back to the meds, but I don't. I LIKE being myself. And I like being in a different place, with new life skills and goals, and new coping mechanisms. It's a like a whole new challenge. We'll see in a couple of months if the bitchiness smooths out, but, if it doesn't, I think maybe I'm okay with that. I just want to work.

I suspect I could really pick this whole thing apart, this rollercoaster, and lots of my current emotional state could be attributed to external issues. Like the chaotic state of our apartment. Having my stuff packed and the walls open with fiberglass hanging out, and dust everywhere, and shoddy tradesmen, and not having my own space, free of garbage and intrusions....it's making my neck muscles pulsate. Anyway, it's an interesting time. I'll tell you this much, it's making me a better writer and a better comic. I need the nerves. Plus, being bitchier makes me less social, which makes me concentrate more on the work. I suspect a cull of less thick skinned friends is in the offing. Not purposely, but I have a feeling some people will just slide themselves out of the picture.

Had sets last night at Yuk Yuk's and the night before at Darby's. Oh, LORD, do I love being back. I want to get on at the Funnybone, the newest Vancouver club, but it's big, and I have some work to do. I think I must be evolving in some way, because yesterday when I told Sean Proudlove that I want to do the Funnybone, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You're gonna have to work a lot harder". Instead of getting uptight or upset about it, I was, like, "Yah, no kidding". Because I do. Because he didn't mean I have to work a lot harder at everything in the entire world all the time, he wasn't saying I don't work hard, he just meant, if I want to do rooms like that, then I am going to have to dedicate myself to the craft for real. And he's right. And I am. So. Hopefully by the end of March I will have a solid 30-45 minute set. I think it's a realistic goal. I mean, I can do a pretty tight 10-15, with lots of leftover material, but I'm going to have to start pushing to book longer sets, so I can see how it goes. And hosting, I'm going to have to start hosting. All the stuff everyone else is doing. It hits home when I see where the guys are now who started at the same time as me and just put their heads down and didn't get derailed by personal tragedy or theatre in the countryside.

So here it is. My life. Harder, but better. So, maybe easier for all it harderness. Anyway, just getting used to myself again. It's an interesting war, Art.




Booked it. Ha! We shoot tomorrow night. Scrubbing Bubbles Automatic Shower Cleaner! Got a callback for the second audition, but haven't heard anything, so likely don't have it. Still, though, I'm battin' five hundred.

Lost my keys yesterday, on Granville Island, with my bike locked up there. Looked everywhere, turned my backpack upside down, twice, went all around the island twice, etc. Was a bit sad, walking home with my groceries. Got home, keys fell out of some magical bind they'd gotten themselves in somewhere on the outside of my backpack. Weird. Anyway, now back to the island to pick up the bike. I felt crazy when it happened, like...craaaaaaaazy.

I logged on thinking I would have more to say in a blog entry, because I hadn't entered one for so long, but I don't. I have some things I'd like to say, but it's possible that a public forum is not the place. I think I'll go write in my supersecretblog.



Like silly putty.

Mmph. Post Fringe hangover. Pissing pissing with rain, not helpful. But a bit cozy, to be honest. Though I have to go out in it. Remember last week when I had my first ever commercial audition? Did I mention it? No? Well, I did. Two of them in a row, matter of fact. Anyway, the first one has garnered a callback, so that is great. I wanna book it. Bad. Mama needs the dosh, you see. So that's today. Oddly, they're calling me back for two roles other than the one I originally auditioned for. I think that's a good sign. The casting director gave really good feedback to my agent, so that's good, too, cause it means she'll want to see me again for things. My horoscope has been saying (loosely translated from the flaky) that I should prepare for all the things to happen that I have always wanted, but that if I don't remain calm and do the work and instead get too excited I will never be able to reap the rewards. Which is exactly what I thought. So I am doing my best. Does writing about things in your blog count as getting overexcited? Maybe just this once it's ok. I scratch my head. Breathing seems to be very helpful, pretty much all day every day. Have you noticed that?

Did you hear that Fashion Week in Spain has been thrown into chaos because the local government pressured the organizers into banning any models that are too skinny from the runways? Excellent. Ha! They even put a number on it, saying no girls with a body mass index below 18.5. The BMI isn't the best way of measuring, but it's a start. Maybe everyone has finally had to see too many pictures of war torn and starving people and realized that that's what we're asking our women to look like. Ich. Let us be pink and round!



Good Review

A Little Life "What a great concept: you get to be the studio audience for a talk show with a different special guest every night. In the show I saw, host Riel Hahn interviewed Vancouver actor Marjorie Malpass, with periodic interruptions from performers Jeff Gladstone, Tallulah Winkelman, and Tom Jones, who improvised scenes based on Malpass's memories of her (extraordinary) life. There was a family dinner, a walk through her first student apartment, and a glimpse of Malpass's future. Not every scene was meant to be funny, and the perfomers displayed impressive flexibility, even improvising a show tune. A remarkably intimate, playful and affectionate celebration of one person's life."

-Kathleen Oliver, The Georgia Straight, Sept. 14/06

So come see it, yo.

Thursday, September 14th, 11pm, w/ Jacques Lalonde
Saturday, September 16th, 2:45pm, w/ Alex Dallas
Saturday, September 16th, 11:15pm, w/ Jason Bryden
Sunday, September 17th, 2:45pm, w/ a guest chosen from the audience
Sunday, September 17th, 9:30pm, w/ a very special guest TBA




We, the Stretch Mouth'd Rascalls, opened our show, "A Little Life", at the Vancouver Fringe Festival last night. It is excellent and new every single time. So much to learn! We have NINE shows left, so there's no excuse, really, for not seeing it if you are in Vancouver, or even near Vancouver. So look slightly to your right and click on "Riel's Upcoming Shows" or "Stretch Mouth'd Rascalls" and find a date and time you'd like to see it, then show up there, get a ticket, come in, watch the show, be amazed!



Water's boiling!

Phone's back on. In case you were wondering.

Apparently it wasn't not having a phone that was causing all my anxiety this week. I know that because my stomach acids are still in an uproar. My jaw is clenched, my brow furrowed, heartrate up, attention span short, all energy focused inwards. Have noticed myself gripping the arms of chairs as though suffering a rough takeoff in an airplane. I suppose I feel a bit like things are racing towards something, and, how unusual, I feel like there's no brakes and we're about to careen off a cliff or into a brick wall. I have dreams like this sometimes. And we do go off the cliff or into the wall.

It's all ridiculous, of course. I'm anxious because things are going well and the smell of success terrifies me. I mean, I have reasons to worry, but they should not cause me nearly the level of consternation and hand wringing I am experiencing. I will get over this. I will. But just at the moment I am freaking out that I won't live up to my own expectations or anyone else's. All these wonderful people believe in me so much, I don't want to fuck it up. I want to be very sure I'm making the right moves. I think I am, or it wouldn't be so scary. That's the thing, right, to choose the scariest path. Then you know for sure it's what you were meant to do. That's HOW you know what to choose.

So, here I am, following the scariest path, and someone told me today to relax and enjoy it, and I think I will, but not 'til the labour produces some fruit. Possibly as soon as the Rascalls Fringe Show opens...then...then I might relax. Maybe. We'll see. Currently not my strong suit. Tears and gnashing of teeth on an hourly basis. As soon as one person has me calmed down, I ramp up again and someone else has to talk me off the ledge all over again. It gets very real when everyone invests in you and you know that you have to produce returns on their investments. On my own investment. Gnash, gnash.

I still think, hope, that great things are going to happen for me. ARE happening for me. I get more and more scared the closer it gets. My people are telling me good things, reminding me that this is normal artist behaviour. Normal. Ha!

Everywhere I go people look at me with this funny look on their face. They stare, they cock their head questioningly. I told my friend Sparky that yesterday and she looked me dead in the eye and said in all seriousness, "It's because you're famous." I was like, not yet, and she was like, yeah, but they know you're gonna be! That was a pretty nice thing. Then Siobhan said, "Quit being so afraid of success." And I was like, I'm trying, but it's making me puke! What the fuck? I'm sure I'll calm down soon, I'm sure. So weird.

The whole experience of going where I always knew I would kind of takes me out of my body and into kind of a dream like state. In fact, it feels like dreams I've had. Just this sensation like I'm floating up off the ground. I need a tether. Eating and sex are a relief because they both require me to really be in my body, which makes me feel human again, and not ethereal. But the rest of the time...ghost city. I am vaporous. Vaporous? Is that a word? I can't tell, I'm made of steam.


Phoney Business

Phone cut off. Contact me through my MySpace, just click on the link over there --> that says "Riel's Upcoming Shows". That takes you to my MySpace site. You can leave comments here and they will be emailed to me. I'm not gonna leave my email address here, for some reason. I am also not going to complain about my phone getting cut off, because it's my own shit, but I'm pretty sure it's not complaining to just state that it makes me anxious and grouchy. Which, of course, again, is my own doing, but, still, there it is.

I'm going to go cry over what a loser I am. Hopefully it will put me to sleep, otherwise I will only lay there and suffer from consternation. Which has nothing to do with fibre and everything to do with running in circles in my own head.

But I'm not making sense. My,my, how unusual. Fine. You know what? Let us consider this my nonsensical blog entry. A stream of conciousness, though not written unconciously, so perhaps not a stream, but, like, a controlled dam. Like, there's the river of conciousness and there's the dam on the river and there has been a big rainstorm of conciousness so I am just opening the dam a little, (the levy?), and relieving the pressure of all that conciousness building up. You see? Even if you don't see, I don't care.

I need a job. I hope all the job applying I've done lately makes something happen. I hope the jobs I've applied for via email respond via email and not via telephone. I'm kinda scuppered with the whole job search/no phone thing. Stupid me.

Yeah, that's the crux of it. Stupid me. I have to stop doing things that result in my feeling stupid. I don't do things like that all the time, but regularly enough. Or, conversely, perhaps I just need to stop feeling stupid about things. Foolish 34 year old that still can't keep her head abover water. (Oh, yes, Anonymous, I'm talking to YOU! I still have things I worry about, no matter how hard you've tried.)

I'm going to go grind my teeth and fall asleep. If I CAN fall asleep, what with all the worrying I'll be doing about my future dentistry bills due to teeth grinding.




Look over on the right and at the top of the links you will see a link to my MySpace site, where you can keep abreast of all my upcoming gigs. Now I will no longer be updating that gak here. Thank you.

Apples and Bananas.

Made it to New York City safe and sound, y'all. Interesting travel day, being the day after the Heathrow arrests. We ended up quite dehydrated, that's for sure. And I had a lip balm confiscated.

New York City, which I remembered being in love with, is even better than I remembered. All human emotions and experience has been thrown into a big salad/stew/pie thing and it's sweet tangy spicy tart delicious. I love being here even though it has been a total rollercoaster. How does two days feel like three weeks? Amazing.

The show is going well, though all things surrounding the show have been insanely frustrating. We arrived at our Saturday morning tech rehearsal to discover that we don't have a venue tech, so there's nobody really running the space, so no matter how hard you try to get it so that you can set up your show in the alotted 15 minutes, everything you so carefully planned will have been fucked with by the time you arrive the next day. And the venue director is a bureaucrat to the max, only able to spout the rules, unable to flex. She and I got to the point where I suggested we never speak again and only Kim should talk to her. Kim is Penelope's boyfriend and a total gem. Anyway, not having to deal with her, (which, by the way, I did my best to do diplomatically), has freed me up to just deal with the technical nightmare. Yesterday I ended up in tears in St. Patrick's Cathedral. Strange, strange day. I cried and cried in a Catholic church. I don't think God thought it was weird, though, I think God gets it.

My computer has been acting up like a crazy little machine, and currently seems to have deleted ALL my writing. Solo show, standup, play....whatever else there was. Interestingly, I had actually created a backup folder just in case something like this were to happen, but, as it turns out, if you only back up a folder in the backup folder, and not each individual file, then you only end up with an alias of the folder, and no actual files. So, I think I've lost all my writing. Sigh. I'm trying to just take it in stride. Bicycle stolen, writing lost...etc. The universe is trying to tell me something. I'm not sure what it is yet because as I try to examine it I end up just looking up at all the beautiful buildings and down at all the crazy people and handsome people. There is a lot to occupy your mind here.

My eyelids are purple and swollen from the tears yesterday. And my bowels are in an uproar because all I had for dinner yesterday was a giant bowl of jello. There is a diner across the street that has the best jello ever. Me and Ken, the guitar player in the show, sat in the diner and talked and talked and talked for hours, he is a great listener and a swell guy. We tried to get to the root of my emotional vomiting, and ended up talking about the most interesting things. Anyway, we ate a lot of jello when I was supposed to be having a meal and now we are all paying for it because there are four of us in a teensy studio apartment.

Ken reminded me of all the things that could be contributing to being overwrought, and gently reflected that maybe I am too hard on myself in terms of my expectations of my own strength.

I am having some grief come up, to be sure. Being in the city where my stepdad grew up, but realizing I have no idea where to go to touch base with his roots, and I guess I always thought I would come here with him and be able to get to know his history. Ken's mom died when he was 21 so he has lots of long term healing insight, plus he works in social services and his girlfriend works in post trauma counselling. He had lots of good things to say. And now I'm going to stay with my friend Briana in Queens and she's a therapist, so I think I'm in good hands.

Okay, I have to get in the shower. More to come.

Nutshell - NYC is beauty, (pronounce it bay-you-dee), and I am a strange blend of hormones and memory.



My favourite thing was the horn.

My bike got stolen today. The rain that's happening clearly has something to do with this sad event. Actually, I WAS really sad about it, (it sucks waking up and going to where your bike used to be and now there's nothing), but a very good friend has offered to get me a new one. That's a pretty good friend, I'll tell you what. I felt kind of weird about it, but then I thought about not having a bike, and that he wouldn't offer if he didn't want to...anyway, I'm gonna let him. Aren't I sweet? No, wait, I mean...oh, never mind.

Stupid bike thieves. It wasn't even a good bike. Why not waste your thieving time on something you can get something for? Thiefy could probably get thirty bucks for my bike, or something like that. Grrr. Wait, I remember, I'm not mad anymore. Right.

New York City on Friday. It's not going to be hot there at all...ha ha, yes it will!

Excellent fundraiser/preview for the Rascalls Fringe show this past Saturday. Show was lovely, we learned so much, and it was simpler and more magical than even we thought it would be. And all were warm and generous, we got excellent feedback and made some dough to cover our production budget. Inspiring. I was so nervous before we did our show that I couldn't move the right side of my body. It was intense. I'm quite proud of us. Everyone should come see our Fringe show, (don't worry, I'll be reminding you of dates and times often), because I think it's going to be innovative and sweet and funny.

In a nutshell.



My hair's on fire, put me out.

I am cleverly ensconced in the Okanagan Valley this week. Aren't I smart? Rivers and lakes abound, though I haven't actually dipped myself in yet. Likely later today. Mmmm, swimming.

Driving home from the Caravan Farm Theatre last night, (where I have roped myself into some volunteering...getting some things ship shape. Spent too many years implementing systems that worked to see it all crumble now. Have a meeting shortly to make sure all box office and front of house issues have been addressed), so driving from there to my mum's place and could see the deep orange glow of a forest fire over the hill. Watched it for a long time to see if it was moving our way. No officials have been here to say we're in any danger, so that's good, but it is smokey today, but the wind seems to have settled down, so that's good. Fire season upon us with a vengeance. Fire season, so strange it has it's own season. Like it goes winter, spring, summer, fire, fall.

Wanted to remind you all that I am feeling lazy about updating my upcoming gigs list on the blog, so you can check out my myspace site, www.myspace.com/rielhahn, for all pertinent info, 'til I get back on the regularity train with el bloggo.

Chuffed to be able to say that the Caravan show is quite wonderful this year. MacBeth, you see, one of Shakespeare's shortest, and set in the woods, and so beautiful and solid performances and direction. Huzzah!

Am trying to write something based on the phrase "farm noir" which I came up with last night. Pretty funny, I think.



my lazy eye is on strike

If you hear squeaking it's probably just my rusty typing muscles working out the kinks. I know, so few and far between lately. As soon as there is reliable wireless in my pod, well, I promise nothing. Never mind.

Very good set tonight at the Media Club, much better than Friday's at Stages. Strange, since Stages was packed and the Media Club was, well, not. But the sweet little audience tonight was so attentive and ready to laugh. I tried a new bit and it went over well. Finally trying to mine my Jewiness for comedy gold. You'd think that all the good Jew material would have been done by now, but it seems this is not so. And the clever little bits that I keep thinking up, you'd REALLY think those ones had been rehashed umpteen times, but, apparently not so, either.

I think I am still drunk from last night. Went to my first ever lesbian wedding. It seems noteworthy, what with all the gay marriage talk. Very beautiful ceremony on the beach and a lovely little reception. Danced and visited with many of my good friends, and when it was over a few of us went to someone's house, then two of us walked to Denny's and ate steak and eggs at 4am, then walked home. Got home around 5:20am and watched "Spanglish" with Adam Sandler. If you have not seen this movie yet, DON'T!! That has got to be one of the worst pieces of filmic garbage I have ever been too drunk and lazy to turn off. Garbage, I say!!

So, in case I haven't mentioned to you in person, because I have been telling everyone, the big news this week is that I finally signed with an agent. This is very good news for me and I'm pretty excited about what we're gonna get done together. I'm hoping for some good touring opportunities, and who knows. Anyway, it's the next step and I'm really happy to be taking it. I've never done anything for this long before, and have never been so patient with my progression in something. I sure am having a good time.

I'm so happy not to be sad anymore. I know there will be more sad ahead, but it's a relief to be feeling like all I have to focus on is work and moving forward. I feel like darling Phil is with me all the time, ready to give advice to me in my head, should I need it. I pretended to call him on my cell phone the other night and had an imaginary conversation with him, though my end was actually out loud, but it was cool because I felt like the answers I was getting from him were what he would have said were he still with us. Sigh. I do miss him a lot still.

Little by little, y'all, it's all coming together.

Bio dad, will you call me please?



What? No Parade?

It's true. I arrived back in Vancouver last week and couldn't believe the lack of fanfare. I mean, there WERE fireworks, but I'm pretty sure that had to do with Canada Day. Although...

Home again. For a bit. Jonesing to get to the country and spend some time with my mum. She says it's been 900 degrees where she is, which might be an exaggeration. But I bet it feels that hot. I know how it can get there, where your brain seems to be on the verge of bursting into flames. At least it's a dry heat, and there are lakes and rivers nearby, for the moment. Who knows what will happen with all the climate change and whatnot. They'll use up all the water trying to put out all the fires. Yes, yes, fire season is upon us again. Amazing that it has it's own season. So, sometime after the 15th I'm headed up there. Why the 15th, you may ask? I'm goin' to a wedding. A lesbian wedding! My first ever. I'm excited. Not because it's lesbian, okay maybe a bit, but because the marry-ees are good together. I like going to weddings where I think it's a good idea for the people to be getting married.

Had a wicked good show at the Urban Well last night. Third show since I've been back from the east and I have learned something. I was so nervous for all my shows back east that I harnessed the energy and attacked. Then I got back to Vancouver and immediately did two lazy shows. No more. That is this week's lesson. Never can I do a set like it doesn't matter. Every goddamned one matters. So I MADE myself nervous last night. I paced and got dressed up and put on lipgloss and went over my set a hundred times and worked myself into quite a lather. It worked. So now I know I'm in control of how I am on stage. I really, really know it. I gotta show up every single time. I fucking love this. Am convinced of my imminent success.


Special to Anonymous

I replied to your comment. In case you missed it. I will never set you free.

"I could crush your head like a nut, but I won't, because I need you." - Strange Brew

"You fool, don't you realize I could have poisoned you a thousand times over if I didn't need you so much?" - Cleopatra

like that.


UPCOMING SHOWS - revised 06/25


Wednesday, June 28th, The Orange Room, 620 Sixth Street, New Westminster, 8:30pm, $5.

Thursday, June 29th, Wink, 8th Ave at Main street, 9pm, by donation.

Tuesday, July 4th, Urban Well, Cornwall and Yew, Vancouver, 7:30pm, $7

Friday, July 14th, 10pm, Blue's Comedy, Stages at the Holiday Inn, 711 West Broadway.


August 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th, (Weds, Thurs, Fri, Sat), 8:45pm, 1937 West 2nd Avenue on the glorious rooftop deck...(rain or shine, the audience is covered!), $5

Stretch Mouth'd Rascalls Theatre presents "A Little Life", a truly unique improvisational theatre experience. Starring Riel Hahn, Tallulah Winkelman, Jeff Gladstone, and Tom Jones. Inspired by the true life story of our special guest! Doors at 8pm. Food and booze available for sale. Wednesday and Saturday stay for the fireworks! Come early for a preshow sunset.



Lazy weekend in Ottawa. Came down with some kind of feverish illness yesterday, lightheaded and hot and cold. Dragged my ailing ass down to the fringe for our second to last show, then over to the comedy club...because...the set went so well on Wednesday's pro/am night, the booker invited me to come back and do a weekend spot. Very cool. Very exciting. Set last night was not quite as tight as Wednesday's, but still went very, very well, indeed. Will feel good to go back to Vancouver with a few hot eastern shows under my belt. Definitely need to do some goal setting with regards to my future in comedy. Make a plan. (Who IS this girl???)

Looking much forward to getting back to BC, where I understand how to care for my hair and skin. Going to head up to my mummy's for a bit at some point in July, likely after the 15th. A week or so up there, swimming and whatnot, hanging out with my sweet aging dog, see the opening of the Caravan Farm Theatre's "MacBeth". Ah.

Much about this trip has been good and soul filling. So much love and family and friends, good connection with my bio dad. Great, actually. Hoping we sometime again get to live in the same part of the world. He's convinced that I will never leave Vancouver, but I am not. I still find Montreal and Toronto and NYC thrilling with their edginess and urban drive. Must, of course, carefully consider the career options and where would best serve me in that department. Montreal is romantic, and I know I could carve a lovely social niche for myself, but as for a comedy career, who knows. Anyway, at least another year in Vancouver as the Rascalls solidify our attachment to one another and hopefully make plans for serious touring next year. Lots of wiggle room, naturally, in case something crazy happens. Knowing me, something crazy is just around the corner.

Hm. I'm going to go watch episode 2 of season 3 of entourage now. I looooves having high speed interweb. Ooooh, or maybe I'll just pop downstairs and watch the end of the Argentina/Mexico soccer game. FIFA has dominated all since I've been east. So much cheering. Not so much in Ottawa, but Montreal was bonkers for it. Ottawans are enjoying it all politely, it seems. Diplomats one and all.




i prayed so very hard for rain and cooler weather, and the last few days have been very beautiful. next few days full of lots of visiting with old friends and eating food with them. good good. computer batter very low and cord in other room and me too lazy to plug in...so wanted to say feeling much better and still promising to write more and longer later. promises, promises.







i am a puddle of sweat and baby powder. a soggy teacake. i miss my rainforest. hell, i miss the air conditioned van i was in a few hours ago. oh, god. i have this heat rash that started a few days ago in montreal, it calms down when i have a cold shower, but right now i am the grossest mess of itchy red bumps. i am wearing my most uncomfortable pair of cranky pants. I gotta get off the computer, actually, becuase it is, in fact, on my lap, where a laptop should be, but it's fucking hot, so it's not helping anything. a million hot needles are pricking me all over my body. my kingdom for a 24 hour pharmacy and some lanacane! i'd sell my soul to the devil for a breeze. go jump in something if you think you're getting the fun montreal stories right now. i'm jumping in another cold shower. 3rd today! sheesh.

first show went well here tonight, and i schmoozed my way into a standup gig on wednesday, so that's good. schmoozing. sheesh.

oh, god, hot laptop! i gotta go. more once i've found a tub of ice to sit in.



I dangle a carrotte

I know, I KNOW! Here I am in Montreal, and all this crazy fun stuff is happening, and I haven't said a damned word about it. I plan to, I honestly do, but we've been busy little beavers. Lot's of intrigue surrounding our technical rehearsal yesterday, and having it out with the Fringe bigwigs over their lack of professionalism....oh, God, and Dave Shumka is the reason my laughing muscles are so sore.

I know I said this about Toronto when I was there last year, but I want to live here. People look you right in the eyes here, and no one thinks I'm crazy for talking to strangers. Last night walking home a very handsome frenchman told me I was "tres jolie". Hurray Montreal!

More soon, I promise.


Worse than none at all.

What a gig last night. Such a good set at El Cocal. I love doing shows there because every time I do it brings me back to myself, to what I know is funny. Last couple of shows have been...drab, I guess. Not terrible, but not sparkly, and left me scratching my head a bit about what I did wrong. Then El Cocal reminds me that what I did wrong was try to do something not myself. It's better when I just get up and tell my stories, read the room a bit, get to know what they want. Oh, it's just so worth it when there's all that laughing and cheering. Even from thirty people. Yum.

Looks like I may have booked a gig in Montreal...just waiting for confirmation. Very exciting. Keeping my fingers crossed for Ottawa, too. Oooooh...I can't stand it!!

Vic Lippucci is going on my list of people to thank when I win something. He hooked up the gig in Montreal, so huzzah to him. It's very heartening when people are willing to put themselves out for you. It makes me want to work that much harder, that's for sure.

I'll tell you what makes me want to work even harder, watching Erica Sigurdson perform lately. That girl is on fire, she is working so hard and getting so good. I mean, she was already good, but she is tearing it up these days. Makes me want to get there, too. Work worky work work.

That's your taste of honey for today. I gotta clean up my room.




Oh, for God's sake. I started writing an entry, erased it, started another one, erased that. I was trying to sound chipper and whatnot, and it just sounded shrieky and false. You know why? I'm not chipper. I'm fuckin' serious, if you want to know. I will admit that the new hairstyle has rendered me awfully cute, but cuteness does not make up for a furrowed brow. Botox, botox, botox. Last night I fantasized about getting my teeth fixed, a professional haircut and a personal trainer. Myself is at war with myself. My greedy, attention loving, fame seeking self wants to win. My socialist, compassionate self wants to take care of everyone. Hence the furrowed brow as I attempt to drown out these voices with pure, concentrated focus on comedy. Just stand up and be funny. That's all I want. I am letting go of caring what state the rest of my life is in, as long as I can do comedy. Be funny, stay alive. So everything else destabilizes, things get done and undone, relationships fail and change and hearts are broken. Things long held inside are given up to the Gods for want of a clearer mind. Just stand up and be funny. Likely this can be seen as a truly assholic phase, but I can not care, I can only be funny. That is all there is. That is all. Funny is truth, truth is funny.

I'm hungry. (Like for a sandwich, I mean.)



Indulge me. I did.

You can now hear the full podcast of my appearance on Guy MacPherson's radio show, "What's So Funny". It's an hour interview with me, plus a couple of comedy clips. I listened to it last night and I don't come off too badly. Honk honk.




The People Have Spoken

Well, Anonymous has spoken, at any rate. Don't ask me why I'm going to start listening to Anonymous all of a sudden....so I'm gonna stick around the blogging. I can't seem to want to commit myself wholly to MySpace. This is way less culty. A lot more people look at MySpace, though, so I'll leave it up. But I'm not blogging over there, no way. NO WAY!

Did you know that there had been sunshine today? It streams in the window, I am like a cat trying to curl as much of my body into it as possible. Mmmm...I can't wait 'til it's hot enough to fall asleep in the sun on a grassy knoll somewhere.

I think I've left it long enough to get someone a chocolate bunny at a seriously discounted price. Whaddaya think? Late Easter Monday, they oughtta have 'em marked down by now.

I got ahold of some bad fish or something yesterday, had a rather unpleasant evening, just serious nausea and whatnot. No more sushi, I'll tell you what. That's probably fine because my mum is coming to town on Friday and all she ever wants to eat while she's here is Chinese. No good Chinese where she lives. It makes her sad. Dim sum dim sum dim sum.

We are nearing the time of year where everything goes all loopy and I start to think about leaving town...luckily I am definitely going to Ottawa and Montreal for the Fringe Festivals in June, but I'm trying to decide what to do and where to be for the rest of the summer. Need work, and might be able to get some up at the Caravan, but can I stay out of Vancouver and away from standup for that long? I'm going to try to book some shows out east, so at least that'll keep me sharp. I love comedy so much it's getting weird. I want it more than anything else. Even when I don't do that well. Which, frankly, hasn't been happening that much lately. I have had an excellent run the last couple of weeks and it's making me write more and more jokes, and my material and myself are becoming one, and me onstage is more like me offstage, and it's friggin' thrilling, if you want to know the truth.

You know, on a completely other note, once I thought that Anonymous might be my dad posting posthumously. Isn't that weird? Now that I seem to be out of the whiny part of my grief cycle, maybe Anonymous will reveal themselves to me. Huh? Huh? Ya wanna?

So, here we are. Back where we started. And I shan't think of leaving again any time soon. Though I might be forced to write this while squatting in someone's back yard for 3 weeks, if I don't find a place to stay while the guy I sublet from comes back and gets his life moved, or whatever he's doing. I wonder what he is doing. Haven't heard his exact arrival date. I think it's in six days, though. Hm....I'm going over to MySpace to see if anyone wants to house me for a few days...coupla weeks, whatever. Anyone?



Hmph. Have been having not very good reports of MySpace from people looking for my show listings. Apparently you can't look at anything in detail if you're not a member, which is a pain in the ass. The experiment might not be working. Also, I'm finding it a bit weird. Kind of fishbowly, or big brothery, or something. People all up in my bidness. As it were. Plus, user interface is important. I don't always keep my listings totally up to date here on blogger, but at least it's a nice, soft green colour, and it's kind of quiet. MySpace is like a small town. Infidelia is like being in a field. Ahhhhhh...this feels really nice here. Very relaxing. Maybe MySpace can be my city house, and Infidelia my country house. I've always wanted both. I don't know, but I'll make an effort to keep things more current here, because I kind of missed it. Sigh. What I won't do for boys.




okay, hobos. i'm moving. well...virtually, anyhow. i'm trying to figure out how to link my blog to my myspace site. i've discovered that the calendar on myspace is very convenient, and it's much easier to see dates and showtimes of mine there. easier for me to update, as well. i'd like to consolidate my interweb life. so i'm saying that i might not write here much. i'm not entirely sold on giving up the warrior princess, but maybe i am, too. erm...i'm not sure i have a blog in me anymore. for a while, anyway. i think maybe i've worked out what i needed to work out here, and now i just need to work. see?

anyway, while i think this over, find me at:


it's concise.



Just a nice thing.

One morning earlier this week I was on my way to work, via the bus. It was a nice morning, no rain, a little sun, not too early. I had my ipod on and was having a sweet ease into the day walking to the busstop. I got on the bus and saw a friend sitting at the very back, wearing headphones and reading one of those free dailies we have now. He looked up, we waved and I gestured that I didn't want to talk, I was listening to music, he indicated his paper and headphones and we smiled. I sat next to him and after a few seconds put my arm around him. A beat, then he put his head on my shoulder and kind of leaned into me and continued reading. We stayed like that until my stop, when I kissed him on the forehead and got off the bus. We waved and blew kisses, both beaming. We never uttered a word. It was one of the best mornings I have had in a long time.


boys who dig girls who dig boys who....

You know what I like? Watching boys watch girls. More specifically, I like catching guys watch a girl walk by, look her up and down, and appreciate her blatantly. For some reason this brings me much joy.


No title today.

Has been a busy few weeks, to be sure. Much excitement, some things I can not mention, due to top secrecy. Rest assured, though, all signs point to this being a big year for me. As I have mentioned before.

Had the most fun on Guy MacPherson's radio show on Sunday night. Got to talk about myself for a whole hour. You know how I like that. Check the Comedy Couch website for the podcast of that show...not up yet...but will be...I hope....


Many thoughts of getting life together. Finally taking care of tax life, which will cleverly lead to taking care of medical plan life.

May have to move, may not have to move. Sublettor has announced he is likely, but possibly not, returning April 23rd, will need about 3 weeks in apartment to get stuff out. Wondering if I'll be able to convince landlords to let me live there, could be a hard sell. So, other possibilities? Not sure. Really want to stay in my hood, it's just right for me and so central.

Selling car, but now asking much less for it as needs hefty repairs. Probably sell it to a mechanic. Needs new cylinder head and gaskets. Yikesers. Both mechanics that looked at it said it's the fault of my previous mechanic who did shoddy work on it. Gr. And he was recommended by friends!!

Ok. You've heard from me. Now get patient, because it is unlikely that my posting is going to get any more frequent in the next couple of months. I'll try to get funny and charming on here soon again...blah blah blah.

You boners who didn't make it out to the Here Be Monsters Festival are boners. For real. It's going to happen again next year and it is wonderful and more wonderful. I'm so proud of the team that put it together - Jeff Gladstone, Ryan Gladstone, Heather Lindsay, France Perras, Michael Fitzpatrick, Jen Fitzpatrick-Wilson, Courtenay Dobbie, Michelle Field, and Glen the tech guy, whose last name escapes me. Anyway, kudos to them for raising the cultural bar in this town. An event like this can only serve to educate Vancouver audiences to the great experience that is live theatre. Bring it.



Rhubarb Rhubarb. (Did someone say something about looooove?)

I finished the play. The short one. Submitted it to the festival. Very pleased with myself. Very very pleased with and grateful to Penelope for sitting on me to get it done. I was talking to my friend Tom today and he was talking about all the things he has started writing and not finished and I told him he needs his own private Penelope. Then I thought that was a good title for something.

Here's some good news, for me at least. Looks like the guy I'm subletting from isn't coming back 'til some time in the fall, so I don't have to move again for a while. Yay, I can finish unpacking! I was starting to feel a bit anxious about finding a spot to be. This totally saves my life for the next few months...have a base while in and out of town, and likely will be able to help my brother out with a place when he needs it, as well. Hopefully we'll be in and out of town at odd times so we can share. Or, actually, I'm not really sure I do hope that, because that would mean we would never see each other. He's still on the beach in Thailand. Man, that'd be nice.

I've decided to put an add on Craigslist asking if anyone would like to take me on a trip to Mexico. How's that for a plan? Could be creepy, but maybe I'll get a trip to Mexico. Or Southern California. Or Arizona. Or any fucking place warm. I need some time being warm. Hot, even. Baking. (Yes, yes, I will wear very strong sunscreen so as not to damage my peaches and cream...)

So, let's say you have been avoiding romantic relationships for a long time for various reasons, and recently you have come to the conclusion that you are ready for one, and then you meet someone who really makes your heart go ba-boom, and you hook up, but maybe he/she lives across a border, or something, and you are unclear on whether he/she would necessarily be interested in pursuing something, even though there was clearly a sweet connection there...how do you make it happen? Or something. My "friend" was asking. It's not me. Why would you think that?

I wrote a play. God, it's satisfying to say that.

And I just won a game of online Scrabble. Always puts me in a good, if a bit smug, mood. Dinner time.



snow? SNOW?!

Sick again. Feel like it hasn't really left me from the January bout, and keeps rearing it's head. And that head is snotty, indeed.

Strange week, lots of sad anniversaries this week. This is when my dad first collapsed into a coma, a day which remains extremely vivid in my mind, and one which I still can not really talk about, or dwell on. Yeah, that's a portion of the journey that still really terrifies me. For the most part, I have been recovering from the year with much aplomb, I think, but the occasional stab in the heart still catches me by surprise. I have entered this very strange phase of thinking he's alive. It's confusing. Because I have also realized he is never never coming back, but...oh, I haven't quite put it all into words yet. I have a tattoo on my right shoulder of a heart with wings, I got it right after my dad died. I got a scratch right in the middle of the heart and it is bleeding, so it looks like the heart is bleeding. Weird day.

This sensation of his being alive started a couple of weeks ago, the night before my brother left for South Asia. (The bum is laying on a beach as we speak). We were hanging out with a bunch of friends and my brother started telling the story of the time he got the day of a very important flight wrong and nearly had a breakdown with worry. Our dad woke up early and came down to see what the ruckus was and gave him a ride to the airport. When Jesse (my brother) was telling the story, he quoted our dad and for some reason, right for that moment, I completely forgot he was dead. I just thought about how we would laugh about it the next day. It made me feel sort of floaty and out of my own skin, and relieved, and a bit confused. He was so very alive for me in that moment. I didn't tell my brother, he was so relaxed that night, I didn't want to make him cry, and it would have.

Then I went and read "The Way the Crow Flies" by Anne-Marie MacDonald. I actually managed not to sob and sob at the end, mostly because I'm sick and I don't feel like aggravating my snot factory any further. But it was a monumental effort not to just roll up into a little ball and cry and cry and cry. The main character took me right back into myself as a child, and it was like I was revealed to myself. It's been a long time since I related to a work of fiction on such a profound level.

Oy, my head hurts.




Yes, yes. It has been a good long stretch of time. It's because I have been DOING things. Which is good. Very good. And being a bit put out by being surrounded on all levels by conservative governments. Which means at the municipal level we lose out on the great plan for False Creek/Olympic Village social housing, at the provincial level we are talking about expanding our capacity for cars instead of looking into alternatives to driving, and at the federal level we are poised to sell our souls to the devil from down south. Speaking of the devil, when did George Bush decide he was the champion of alternative energy sources? I mean, heck, I'm all for it, but did you hear his state of the union address? "America (pause here to make it sound like what he's about to say no one has ever said, much less thought before) is addicted to oil. (pronounced ayhl). The only way to break this addiction is through technology, by looking into alternative energy sources." Do you think it's possible Bush finally read a book? I wonder.

On a completely different note, I met two Greek Orthodox Monks the other day. I had no idea there was a monastery on the Sunshine Coast, but apparently there is. And these two young men, full beards, black skullcaps, dressed kind of like squeegee punks, their city clothes I guess, have made a lifetime committment to living at the monastery. I said it must be very peaceful there, and they both got kind of beatific looks on their faces and said, yes, it is very peaceful. It's an interesting choice, devoting yourself to the study of your religion.

I have recently been dubbed a SNUD. A Semi Nomadic Urban Dweller. I think it's very apt, and am happy to have a crowd. Seems to me so many people I know fall into this category. Moving every two years, or more, couch surfing for months at a time, subletting, housesitting. I'm going to launch a sociological study. It came up with my friend Brad, an artist who is in constant motion, and always wishing to be still for a few years in a row. I always think I want a stable home, too, but things come up, my feet get itchy. I think it has something to do with not having decided that where we are is where we want to settle. You gotta give your career some serious attention and see where it wants you to go. Or, as in the case of some, you just keep choosing the wrongest places to live. Ceilings caving in and whatnot. Anyway, when I have some FREE TIME (HA!) I'll dive into the study.

I have already got myself a pile of projects that I am wading through, joyfully, but all of which demand more of my attention. Standup had to lose out for a while, but hopefull is coming back around. Plus actual job, plus writing all these plays, plus learning Final Cut Pro, plus the teaching job, it's a lot. But every little bit is so good, so I'm trying to carve out spots for everything. Keeping my fingers crossed that my sublet wants to stay overseas a couple months longer, otherwise it's almost time to move again!!!!! SNUD, through and through.



Uh oh.

I just want to say one other thing. I miss my dad like crazy this week. This month. Every day. But some days it still just creeps up on my in this sneaky way. I came to the coffee place to do internet stuff this morning and now I'm sitting here getting all teary faced and wishing there was a way to bring him back. I hate it. I want him here. I don't want him wandering around in the ether possibly knowing that I'm doing things that would make him proud. I want him here. I want to work with him. I'm so fucking sad. I hope there's no time limits on sad. I know after the year anniversary you are supposed to buck up or something, but...well. There it is. I gotta get outta here and go weep. Thanks for the ear.


ps- just as the tears started to actually drip off my chin, my friend Aresh walked by the window and came in and hugged me. I still have to go have a proper cry, but it was serendipitous, because he is a man who understands sadness and spends a great deal of time pondering the human condition. He is a sweet, good man.

Burning Bridges

Have some good news but feel funny imparting it as am tremendously grouchy today and have my whiny pants on. Not my sexiest pants, for sure. But here it is, anyway.

Played in the improv tournament last night, the Cage Match at Havana Restaurant, and we, "Math", won the night. Can't say I'm not happy about it. Friendly competition and all, I still like winning. We were on fire last night and I am so proud of us for coming up with a new format that hasn't been done before, and it's so simple!

But I shan't gush, because I'm too grumpy. And, of course, it's all my fault. Which makes me grumpier. Just have to go deal with the rest of my stuff today, and I hate moving the most out of anything, and I wish the stuff would just fall off a cliff somewhere, because I'm tired of things. But I know that one day, maybe not soon, but one day, I'm going to have an apartment of my own again and will need some of said stuff. But I'm starting to get very bored of just carting it from port to port 'til I decide where to settle. Currently would rather live out of a backpack. Have also made Chris really mad as have imposed upon his and Katrin's generosity much longer than intended and much longer than either of them should have to put up with, so I got good and yelled at this morning, which is never a good way to start the day, whether you deserve it or not, which I do. Anyway, I have put a definite strain on the friendship. Sure that only time will tell whether it is more than just strain and a repair can be made. I hate it when I have to lie in my own messy bed I've made.

That's all you get for today. Perhaps when the unpleasant tasks ahead are dealt with and the pms has passed, (very, very bad this month, swinging wildly between suicidal and homocidal, watch out...), I will charmedy it up again.

Keep well, wear your sexy jeans,



A vote for Harper is a vote for the avian flu.

Have been quite battered by a bout with the flu this past week, though likely not of the avian type. Clearly, since I don't play with dead chickens, like those children in Turkey. Who lets their children play with dead chickens? Don't they know the phrase, "Hey, those dead chickens are not a toy!" in Turkey? I bet they do now.

For some reason I like talking about chickens in Turkey. You figure it out.

Anyway, I'm out of the house and not passing out or sweating and dizzy and nauseous, so that's a good step. I'm in a cafe, using up free wireless time to catch up on all things internet related. Am jonesing for internet at home, but likely will write the show faster if I'm not checking my email every ten minutes.

There are a bunch of guys sitting at a table near me playing Go, if you know what that is. A game as old as the ages, mastered by wizened Asian men, and needful of a very alert brain, indeed.

I break here to mention that there is a very handsome man wandering around, causing me much distraction. Even with the flu, I am incorrigable. (ible?)

So these guys are playing Go, and it's funny, because I just really learned how to play that this year, and it fascinates me. I was just talking to my buddy Tim last night and we were agreeing to spend more time playing. Any time, really, having not played together before. But he and his father play, and my buddy Mike taught me this year, and I am hooked. I like thoughtful strategy games. Just about to go online and play a little online scrabble, in that very vein. Though I did just get a little dizzy, so I may just wander home in the rain...ich.

Last night it was sunny in all of my dreams and I was quite surprised to wake today and find it so grisly outside.

I have been watching the first season of "Lost" this week, am on my second go round as have introduced it to Siobhan and now am watching again with her. It's that good. I gotta get my hands on the second season, and soon, or I'm going to have a little fit. It has been contributing to very strange dreams. Along with the flu, of course. So my week has been surreal and I'm still not entirely sure what has happened and what I have dreamed, the dreams have been that palpable.

I have come to the conclusion that I want a boyfriend. For real. I haven't for years and years, but I would like to give it a try again. Apparently, according to several unreliable sources, the deciding is the important part, after that it just falls into place. We'll see. Pony up, boys!!

Listen, it's very important that you all go out and vote on the 23rd. Very important. Unless you are voting for Stephen Harper. Then it is very important that you get pinned under something heavy until the polls close, and sustaining only superficial injuries, of course. Can you really imagine living under a Harper regime? The man is a misguided snake. Which means when he intends to be slithering towards a destination he'll get all sidetracked and go right up your pantleg. Ich. I don't want Stephen Harper up my pants, do you? I thought not.

Anyhow, I implore you to think about what kind of country you really want to live in, and where you would like it go in the years, decades to come. Think not only of yourselves, but of your neighbours, your friends, your colleagues, your countrymen and understand that we are in it together, we are not every man for himself. Look deeply into your compassionate Canadian hearts and do not vote out of anger, but out of true desire for a sustainable future for all of us. I trust you with this.