A friend wrote me today and asked "...how's tricks, kid?".

Tricks are thus: I love the new job. I love that the restaurant is temporarily falling apart without me (I imagine them to be back up to speed soon, or operating at a different speed), even though it would be more graceful not to love that. I love my apartment. I love the way I've been looking lately, (specifically my hair).

I was sick in bed Thursday and Friday and because of that put my back out Saturday, (while shaving my legs, by the way. I'm such a nerd). Body says stop, brain has a hard time listening. Body and brain need to get on the same team. I have some plans in the works to make that happen.

Romantic life is so...so much like it always has been. Nebulous and changeable, and better ignored. I have new crushes all the time and they only lead to eye rolling and irritation. Comedy suffers. I can't do everything...(or everyONE, for that matter). Comedy really suffers.

Comedy is suffering hard lately. I don't know why. I think because of this disconnect between my brain and my body. I gotta get back in my body and out of my brain.

I am vibrating with anxiety most of the time even though, structurally speaking, my life seems to be going well. Worried and tense. I wake up sharply sucking in air most mornings, like something has jolted me. It takes me a minute to remember what day it is, where I am, what my face is for...

I am trying to book some time with a therapist, and I've booked a spot for a workshop with an Irish healer. Three days in April in Victoria. A friend of mine has been taking the guy's workshops and says it's no bullshit, just hard work. I think the most gifted healers out there are the ones that give you the space and safety to do the work, that facilitate the healing, as opposed to saying they will heal you. It takes some humility to be a good healer.

I'm hungry.

I'm going for a walk.

I'm okay, by the way, even with the anxiety. I am living with it and devising ways around it, which is what I think you're supposed to do. It's okay, to have anxious phases, and I'm better off not beating myself up about it. Just get to the root, dig it out, deal with it. Ich, that's what got me kind of tizzyfied, I guess. Getting back on the dealing-with-it train. Here we go, more work!!



Title me this, Bookman.

I figured something out. I know why I haven't been posting things much on the ol' bloggeroonie, (bloggerooney? blog-r-ooni?). It's because I'm greedy. I've been keeping all the good stuff for joke writing. I'm sorry to have to say it, but I redirected things...it's not you, it's me.

Or something.

But, yes, I figured it out when I thought of something funny I wanted to blog about, but then realized I wanted to save it for the stage, and I'm still going to. I'm pretty excited that I have some new things I want to try. It's been a rough couple of weeks with no shows. Makes me so testy. Looking forward to a few coming up. I hope I have the balls to do the new stuff I've been writing. It's not controversial, but it's personal. I'm pretty sure that's the best way to go, for a gal like me.

So. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you gotta come see me if you want the really good shit.




I never knew how elusive comedy really was until I had it for a minute and then it slipped through my fingers and I didn't have it any more. I was queen of the world for a minute. A minute. I want it back. Badly.

I love my new job, by the way. At Invoke Media. I am feeling incredible relief that I am using my brain again. It's up there, rattling around, might as well put it to use.

Me and David Bowie, we're gonna spend some quality time together now. I hear that, Bowie. I hear that.