Hello 2014. Whatcha got?

Feeling meh.  Life in general is pretty great, but there are some important pieces missing.  Mainly, a job.  Income.  Something to do, someplace to go every day.  Cash flow.  If I had that, pretty much everything else would take care of itself.

I know I say I'm doing fine, but a lot of the time I'm not.  Not fine, not ok.  This isn't a comfortable place for me.  I know there are a lot of people in this world who are never happy, even when things are going well.  I'm not like that.  I'm a naturally happy person.  Happy is my default setting.  I can be happy when everything is complete shit.  I relied heavily on this natural tendency when I was going through all that stuff some years ago.  Even as a grieving widow who was caring for a crazy Alzheimer's dad, I was pretty perky.

But damn it, being unemployed is fucking depressing and this is my second stint.  The last time I was unemployed for a year and a half.  This time, it's almost been a year.  It was a huge mistake taking that stupid job at the water department, but even if I had stayed where I was I would have been out of a job in a few months anyway.  My old boss was caught stealing from the company and that whole office was shut down.  Awesome.

Depression is spiritually and psychically immobilizing.  Since leaving the job from hell last March I have done some productive things, which were wonderfully diverting, but all that means is I got some work done and did some fun stuff while the money drained away.  All that time I've been in the same situation I'm in now.  I get up every morning, do some shit, and then go to bed at night.  I can't keep doing this.

So I have to do something to make it all better while the tedious task of searching for a job continues.  There are some big events looming ahead (I shouldn't put it like that.  It's all going to be fun) and there is a lot that needs to get done before then.  I need to plow through the fog and get it on.  Rock and roll, goddammit!

A new set of mantras would help.  "Right foot, left foot, repeat" is a good one and it's gotten me through a lot.  So, let's see...

- Make sure you do at least one thing every day that will move things forward.  More than one thing if you can manage it.
- Putter.  There is power in a good putter.
- More out than in.  This has been an important one in the past.  Start using it again.  This means I have to get rid of more stuff and bring in less.  Sell, sell, sell!
- Move your ass!  Keep exercising.  This also means sticking to the diet (10 pounds lost so far).
- More art, more music, more comedy.  Especially more comedy.
- More people.  I tend to let myself get isolated.  I don't like that.

I guess that'll do for a start.  Just keep going.  Force myself to keep going.  It does feel good to be productive and this stupid job situation won't last forever.  I'm broadening the search.  You may see me in an orange vest flipping that sign that says STOP and SLOW.  I might be your barista.  Something will come along.

By the way, this is NOT a cry for help.  I don't need anyone to get all concerned and try to fix anything.  I appreciate the job alerts, (thanks for those) but no one needs to do anything for me.  I'm glad I have so many great friends.  We'll keep doing what we do.

A little rant...

This might piss some people off just a bit, but it kind of drives me crazy so, whatever, get pissed if you want to.

I've been doing comedy for two years now. I've been a performer for most of my life, but only two years as a comedian. I'm not the world's expert on anything but I'm pretty sure I'm right about this. I have a complaint about some comedians.

Audiences can be iffy. We all love it when we have a big room chock full of people who came to laugh. It's a great big, ego-feeding, energizing, tit-sucking RUSH. Seriously, it's just the best, and I love it as much as anyone. But we all have also experienced that small, shy, had-a-bad-day, ho-hum collection of barely conscious strangers who, although they've paid their money to see some comedy, will still sit there like they've been beaten and dragged to traffic school. The tough crowd.

But not all of them will be like that. Most of them do laugh at least some of the time. And even if they're not in an hysterical panic, they're probably having a good time. So why is it that so many comics are completely undone by this kind of room? For some reason they don't hear the laughter that is coming their way in a wimpy but steady stream, but instead will fixate on that one stone-faced guy in the middle of the room. Last night I was at a show that had this kind of audience. It was an undersold show that, in my opinion, was way overbooked with comedians. They could have cut the line-up in half and it probably would have been a better show. And here's where I could get into some trouble. I thought most of the material kind of sucked. But I have seen audiences that just about wet themselves laughing at that stuff, so you can't really judge a show by that.

The thing that drives me nuts is, I really, really hate it when a comic gets up there, gets a few polite giggles and then blames the audience for not falling out of their chairs. Last night many people WERE laughing, but almost every one of those comics were thrown by the modest chuckle level and they commented on it. None of them overtly turned on the audience, but the comics' own discomfort was noticeable enough to dampen the room even more than it already was. You could just feel it.

Some comics will completely bail on their own act. One night at a different club, a young female comic wasn't quite feeling the love so she just walked around the stage making comments about what was up there; the floor, the back drop, the mike stand. Then she picked up a menu and started reading it and saying how stupid she thought it was. That's the worst example, but I've seen stuff that was close to being that bad.

Audiences can be squirrely. Smaller audiences can be harder to fluff up. But I've had 13 people in a room that all laughed their asses off. I've also seen 60 people just sit there. Sometimes there's nothing you can do to make them laugh but the totally fucking WRONG thing to do is blame THEM. Jeez, I've only been doing this for 2 years. Almost everyone in the comedy world has been at it waaaay longer than I have. Haven't they figured it out by now that there's a certain audience dynamic you just can't control? And so what? You still have to be professional and do your job. Being able to get up on a stage as a professional entertainer is a privilege, and there are thousands who would love to do it, who work hard at being good at it and might not ever get the opportunity. The people who paid their money are there to be entertained. They're NOT there to stroke your broken ego. And if they aren't laughing you still have to perform as if they are! The audience isn't there because they love you. You are there because you love them. At least you should.

Hollywood Types

Last night I performed at a bar show in Sherman Oaks. It's called The Cork Lounge and the show they have on Wednesday nights is becoming more and more popular. Nice atmosphere in that place, and I'm glad to be a part of it.

When I got there I settled into one of the booths. A couple sat at the table next to mine. He was about my age, maybe younger, hair slicked back, glasses with darkish shades and wearing a nice suit. His girlfriend was a typical trophy girlfriend, blonde and boobylicious. When I did my set I checked out everyone in the room to see how my act was going over. Lots of people laughing, some not paying attention at all, the usual bar audience. Mr. Hollywood was sitting there with his arm around the girlfriend. She was laughing, he was just smiling an nodding. Every joke punch line, every song laugh line brought a smile and a nod, smile and nod, smile and nod. So, ok, he's enjoying it.

As I was packing up at the end of the show, he rose and shook my hand. "I really enjoyed what you did up there. Your songs are very funny." I said, "Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for coming." He said, "Have you done any movies? Has Hollywood come calling?" I said, "Oh no, not yet. I haven't been at this for very long. I would really love it, though." He said, "Well, I think a lot of people would love it. I think a lot of people would really enjoy what you do."

At this point I'm really wondering where this is leading.

I said, "Aw, thanks. I appreciate you saying that." Then he said, "Yeah, I think you could be the female Adam Sandler!"

I punched that motherfucker in the face.

And then I gave him my card.

Well that was one goofy-ass dream...

I was working in an office. I was told to fetch a file on one of our clients. His counselor was P.J. Walsh (a pretty brilliant comic everyone should see). He needed a form that was in the file. As I looked through it, it started to grow and get more complicated, which happens a lot in my dreams. A simple task becomes ridiculous and causes me to veer from the focus of the dream, which is usually way more fun than the task. This time the file became overly stuffed and included a box of old stuffed animals. I decided I could get that form online and left the file on the table. I went own the hall to find my boss's assistant. I went into my boss's (Barbra Streisand) office and found her on the phone, yelling angrily at someone. I retreated and shut the door. At the end of the hall was a storage closet. I knew the assistant was going to be in there. People were coming and going in and out of that room. They were busy setting it up so some dirty hillbillies could live there a while. I stood at the door for a second and decided I was in the way should step away and wait for the assistant to come out. A woman came out to talk to me with two of the hillbilly children. She said, "You can't disrespect these people like that. Looking at them is disrespectful." I guessed she was some kind of dirty hillbilly social worker. The two children said, "Yeah, you can't do that! You're stupid!" I knew it was useless to try to defend myself so I turned and walked away. I decided I'd go to the grocery store (also in the building) and get myself some lunch. The store was being remodeled and workers were restocking the low, open freezers. I wanted a chicken pot pie for lunch, but all they had was cartons of ice cream. I sat down at the lunch counter, which was really a row of freezers with a counter top, and waited for them to find the chicken pot pies. I felt a pair of arms encircle me from behind and a soft voice whispered in my ear. I knew that voice belonged to my dearest love, Michael Cera. We left the grocery store and went to the apartment we shared on the ground floor of that same building. I puttered around for a while. I looked up and saw that Michael Cera was driving away in a golf cart. The body of the golf cart was made of wicker (pretty cool, I thought). When he came back the cart was loaded with members of my family (none of them were my real family). As they got out of the cart they started arguing and accusing each other of several different crimes. They were yelling at each other and saying they all needed to behave because they were visiting me. I frowned at Michael Cera and he looked at me with a helpless expression. I knew then that he'd only wanted to surprise me with a visit from my loving family. --------------------------------------- I think I'm reading too much Game of Thrones.

Katherine Hepburn, Arya Stark

It's been ten years since Jim lost his job and we moved back to Riverside. It's been twelve years since I last had what I considered to be a stable life. Jim had his career, we had our two girls, many wonderful friends, and the first house that was our own. Then things started going south at Hewlett Packard. The founders were no longer in charge, and it was decided that HP would be split into two separate companies. Jim was so disturbed by this. The company hired consultants who instated policies Mr. Hewlett and Mr. Packard never would have tolerated. Employees who didn't adjust were considered to be a liability, and grumbling about the coming changes could get you put on the fast track to getting laid off. Jim took all of this personally and became very depressed. Watching all this happen was like seeing a train wreck in slow motion, and eventually he was laid off along with hundreds of others at the Santa Rosa division, many of them our good friends. -------------------------------------------------- Most of you know the story from there. We moved back to Riverside and settled in at the farm. Soon after, Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and Jim and I became his main caregivers. Jim grieved over losing his job. It wasn't just a job. The culture at HP had been something he really loved. The company had the reputation of being very good to their employees. Holiday parties and picnics, perks and bonuses were the norm. Just about every friend we had was connected with HP, and most of them were musicians. The good times rolled. And when it was gone, my husband couldn't deal with it. The sadness lasted until the day he died. ---------------------------------- My girls and I had to build a new life. My daughters dove into the big adventure of building this new life because that's what young people do. Young people can fly without a net. Not so easy for me. When I was younger I worked mostly in dead-end retail jobs. When we had our kids I was a stay-at-home mom (thanks to that great HP job of Jim's). I went to junior college and dabbled in the fun stuff, but didn't take classes to develop any useful or marketable skills. So now here I am, a middle-aged widow who needs to find a way to support herself. It all looked pretty bleak, but because I had the good fortune of being part of a family that is completely awesome on several levels, I was able to get a good (although low-paying) job that gave me the opportunity to learn some skills, and to modify and apply my many nature-given talents. Things were looking up. Sort of. ----------------------------------- Still, I had no real stability. Hell, I still don't! The last twelve years have pounded me from all directions. Many, MANY great things have happened in that time, and I'm grateful for the mind-blowing opportunities that have plopped into my lap, but I haven't ever been able to get back that feeling of security and stability that was such a big part of my former life. I have taken all the blows and kept going, but I haven't been entirely ok. Lots of fear going on here. Depression, inertia, grief, anger, more fear, fuck-it-who-cares, failure and fatigue are all there just below the surface. I could lose everything. My inner Sarah Palin screams, "You're too old, too fat, too stupid, too whatever to succeed!" But I'm trying. I really am. That little motto at the top of this blog: Right foot, left foot, repeat. That sucker has gotten me through some rough times. --------------------------------- The last time we went to the river I bought one of those commemorative Life magazine issues to read under the easy-up. It's about Katherine Hepburn 10 years after her death. I've always loved her. The Philadelphia Story is my favorite movie. The dialog is loaded with the snappy, witty repartee typical of movies of that era. I totally dig that shit. And hell, I just love her. But in her live interviews there always seemed to be a certain amount of bullshit. I never really bought the real Katherine Hepburn. She always seemed to be just a little too much in love with herself. But there were some photos in this special Life issue that smacked me. One is of 80-something Hepburn in a bathing suit, running with a towel after swimming in an icy lake. Snow is on the ground. Another photo shows her at about the same age playing tennis. So, ok. Maybe she had to be in love with herself to accomplish what she did in her own era. She had endless energy and drive, style and beauty, and she died at age 96. That's not bullshit. She didn't mope and whine about life's hard knocks. I'm not even sure she noticed them. --------------------------------- Ok, on to Arya Stark. I came to Game of Thrones a bit late. I tuned in for the last third of season two and I've seen all of season three. I'm entertained, but I don't know who the hell anyone is or how they got there. I decided I'd read all the books before the next season starts so I can catch up. Damn, I'm loving these stories! I plowed through the first book in about three days. I decided to slow down a bit for the second one. I found myself going through my day in Game of Thrones mode, which might not be appropriate for 2013 real life in America (Do NOT impede my progress for I am bound for the check-out line! STAND ASIDE!). The character I love the most is Arya Stark. Holy crap. There have been a few times where she has shed some tears, but mostly she just gets it ON. Sneak, run, stab, survive, outsmart, hide, fight, stab some more, lie, run, run, run, sneak, stab... Dayum, girl! Does she boo-hoo because she misses the comfort of stability? NO! She's plotting who she's going to kill next! God, I love her. ------------------------------------- All this has been swirling in my head. And it's making me happy! I don't know what the future will bring. Some stuff is in the works but it's not a done deal. I'm no more stable than I was six, ten, twelve years ago. I could still lose it all. I might be completely deluded, but I feel pretty fucking good these days. I've been eating low carb, which reeeally helps. I'm finally getting some meaningful work done on my house. Lots of good stuff on the horizon, performing-wise. All that adds up for sure. But keeping Hepburn and Stark with me as I go through my day helps me feel empowered (and that's CRAZY!). Today I went to Costco. When I went to my car I couldn't find my keys. I went through every pocket in my purse but no luck. I was just about to look through the window to see if I had locked them in the car when I saw them at the bottom of my shopping cart, dangling, ready to drop and be lost forever. I laughed at myself. "Woman, you'd die in the wild." As I'm loading the car and laughing, "You're no Arya Stark." As I shut the back hatch, "You're more like that shit-for-brains Sansa."

It's too fucking bad, isn't it?

The news has been crazy lately. Two bombs exploded at the Boston Marathon, taking three lives and blasting the legs off of several innocent bystanders. The suspects were quickly identified, and an aggressive but well-executed manhunt ensued. The city was almost completely shut down as people sheltered in their homes. The response of law enforcement was massive and it didn't take long for them to find the two suspects. One was killed in a shoot-out and the other was apprehended, alive but with serious wounds. ____________________________________________________ There's so much sadness woven throughout this story. We've been seeing photos of those killed in the explosion, as well as the campus police officer that was killed later that night. We've seen photos of the other victims in their hospital beds surrounded by family and friends and (really?) Bradley Cooper (as if we all needed one more reason to adore him, which I do). We've also been hearing the stories about the heroes, and the helpers, and the sheer awesomeness of the cop who brought milk to a family who couldn't leave their home. All these stories are quite amazing and you can almost hear the frantic phone conversations of studio heads scrambling to secure the movie rights. _______________________________ But I'm also struck by the sadness of the story of the nineteen-year-old bomber who survived. Don't get me wrong. Hear me out. When the first photos and the security video were released showing the two brothers walking through the crowd, I felt immediately that the younger man, the one following a few paces behind, the one with the satisfied smile, wasn't like the older one leading the way. Even in those grainy pictures it seemed to me that this was the smile of a young guy who was just happy to be included in the plans of the older guy. I really felt that whatever the older guy's motives were for carrying out this horrific act, the younger guy didn't share them. Not entirely, anyway. __________________________ Once they were identified and the people who knew them began to share their stories, the picture started to become more complete (For me, anyway. All this is just my own idea about the thing). We heard that the younger brother was just a regular kid. His father described him as an angel. His former teacher said that he idolized his older brother and followed him around like a puppy. We've seen photos of a very attractive but serious young man with cold eyes. I wonder about that a little. I'll bet there are plenty of photos of him laughing with his buddies. We won't see those because it's important not to humanize him. He must continue to be portrayed as a monster. The media is doing its job. ___________________________________________ So here's a kid who looked up to his big brother. It's too bad that no one helped him to stand on his own. Big brother got involved with some jihadist group, for whatever reason, and the little brother was easily sucked in. Big brother didn't give a shit about the people that were killed and maimed, but he also didn't give a shit about his younger brother. Did he care at all what might happen to him? Oh well.______________________________________ So hey there, little brother. You went along because your big brother was everything in your eyes. You killed and maimed, and stabbed an entire country in the heart because you never learned to listen to your own. Your brother fucked you and now he's dead and you're laying in a hospital bed alone. The doctors will heal your wounds and you will get to live, alone, until you are placed in a cold room, alone, with a needle in your arm, where you will die, alone, with others watching.

Stuff

Boy, I have certainly gotten out of the habit. I really should (said it before, I know) get back into it. This blog has saved my sanity in the past, and now I'm in another crappy life phase. Blog, bitch, blog! ******************* So, once again I'm unemployed. This time around I don't have health insurance. Great. So, I need to cultivate those healthy habits. I'm walking more. Today I took my bike in to get fixed. On Fridays I walk with Jeff. Last Friday I went to our meeting place and waited for him in my car. I saw an attractive young woman jog up. She had probably the most perfect body I've ever seen. She was curvy, but trim. Her arms were toned and she was very well-proportioned. I said to myself, "Well, good for you honey. Congratulations. You've won the genetic lottery but you're also doing a great job of keeping yourself in shape. Good for you." When she jogged by I watched her in the rearview mirror. She got into her car, which was parked right behind me. I hadn't noticed it before. A brand new, white Mercedes. Then I was all, "Oh fuck you. Fuck you and your perfect body and your white Mercedes." *********************** I just couldn't support that. *************************** On Saturday I'm going to Flappers in Burbank to sit in on a Comedy Traffic School class. I'll be in training. We'll see how it goes. I do think it'll be a good fit, and I'll bet it'll be a good way to develop my audience skills. I really admire comics who can interact with an audience and do it well. And hey, teaching Comedy Traffic School will be something I can do on the side and make a little money. *********************** Last Sunday I went to open mike at Flappers Claremont. A comedian's open mike is an interesting thing. It's not at all like a musician's open mike. It's mostly comics who are trying out new material, which means almost everyone bombs. Even comics who are otherwise pretty good. But it's ok. It's really a pretty forgiving and supportive environment. Still, you'd better not go in there expecting a lot of laughs. It's not an ego feed. ************************* That's about it for now.

Nope.

Still no paragraph breaks. Blogger, you continue to suck.

Testing, testing

I've been having problems with Blogger lately. A kind blogger sent me this link. Let's see if I can make paragraph breaks. Like this one. Or this one.

Wow, soooo much better!

Hooray! A good show tonight! And a personal best for me, I think. A shift has occurred. Tonight I felt more comfortable than I ever have hosting a show. It felt easy and natural. And what a great audience! Another full house, which is always good, but this group was there to laugh. Stacey, Audra, and Scotty's sister, Tanya, came tonight. I'm so glad they got a good show. I'm really happy right now. _________________________________________________________________________ The icky girls from last night were replaced by a cute, funny, HAWT dude named Brady Matthews. Google him and check out his photos. Day-um. Anyway, he was really good, and Melissa Villasenor did a very nice job as well. At the end of the show when I was doing the raffle, Rick came out and made the stretch-it-out sign at me. Again, since it was a big audience the checks were slow to arrive and it was taking some time to process everything. I slowed down the raffle as much as I could, and then when it was over I went into the audience and chatted with the people who were still waiting for their checks. That worked pretty well. No one got surly, and they seemed to enjoy talking to me. I'm going to do that from now on. ____________________________________________________________ Rick was happy with my performance. He said, "Have you noticed we're booking you more often now? There's a reason for that." Awww. During the show Stacey came to the back and sat with me a while. That was so cool. I enjoyed sitting with my sis having a nice, quiet little chat about the show. It really was a special night. ________________________________________________________________ The 10:00 show was a bit difficult, but it always is. Just a bit. We had maybe 8 people. I did my best to give them the same kind of show a big audience would get. They were a nice, polite audience. At the end I didn't bother to use the microphone during the raffle. What's the point? They were just right there. __________________________________________________________________ It's been almost a year since I first started doing this. Last year, on August 8th we all went to see Bobcat Goldthwait at Flappers Burbank, and Tracey and I went into the bar before the show to use the restroom. That's when Deven invited me up to the stage to sing a few songs. Then, on September 2nd I stepped onstage at Flappers Claremont. What an amazing year it has been. _______________________________________________________________ So happy.

Last night

(Again, no paragraph breaks. This blog is broken)__________________________________ Oh man, it bothers me when an audience pays to get in and then they get a shitty show. Well, not the whole show..._______________________________________ The 8:00 was mostly pretty good. Melissa Villasenor is the headliner this weekend, and she's very funny. She was a semi-finalist on America's Got Talent, which helps to make her a big draw for the club. The featured comic was Esther Povitsky, and the guest comic was this friend of theirs who, I don't know, maybe got to perform because they asked if she could. She is an experienced comic, but I've learned that that doesn't always mean something._______________________________________ We met in the green room before the show. Melissa had also brought her sister along. I introduced myself and we chatted for a bit, but it was clear that I was the old woman in the room who was putting a damper on things. I asked them how they'd like to be introduced. Esther said, "Oh, I don't know. Just say anything." I told her I'm just not experienced enough to do that. I need something to go on. she said she'd think about it. Then I asked their friend how she'd like to be introduced. She said her name was Amy. Amy Cheapho, spelled C-H-E-A-P-H-O. It's Croatian. I kind of said, "Wha? What?" She said, "Yes, it's Cheapho. It's Croatian." Um, ok. I said (jovially), "Are you fucking with me, Amy?" She acted quite taken aback and offended, and I was instantly sorry I had put that out there. I tried to save it by asking her if the "ph" was pronounced as an eff, or if it was just Cheap-ho. Oh gawd.____________________________________________________ She said, "You can say I've appeared all around L.A. and I'm a big hit at my mom's Al-Anon meetings." Ok...heh, heh. Esther still couldn't think of anything to say so I decided I'd just say something about how cute she is. And she is cute. Cute as a button. Cute as a bug's ear. Just a teeny little thing. I can do something with that._______________________________________________ I left the green room so I could give them time to roll their eyes at each other and talk about what a clueless bitch I am. Something like that. Anyway, I didn't want to hang around with them any longer. Soon it was time for the show to start.__________________________________________________ The place was packed. A total full house, and the audience was lively. I had only 10 minutes so I zoomed through my set (Middle-aged Woman, Voodoo Doll, Phone Sex) and then introduced Amy. Oh my god. Am I that old and out of touch? Am I too unhip to appreciate that kind of raunchy gutter humor? I don't think so, as long as it's funny. The Claremont audience wasn't laughing much. She got a few good ones in, but I would say they ever really laughed. I thought it was pretty embarrassing. And then I thought about her acting so shocked when I asked her if she was fucking with me. I'm thinking, gee, a girl who tells jokes about her mother performing oral sex has no business being offended by ANYTHING I might say. _________________________________________Then it was Esther's turn. I introduced her with a joke about how cute and tiny she is, and how I accidently sat on her backstage. I give her set about a 7.5. It's this self-deprecating, I'm-so-ugly-and-undesirable stuff that can work if it's done right. There were a lot of long, uncomfortable pauses, but about halfway through it she got 'em going. Really, the stuff that worked was very good. Maybe I'll raise that to an 8. During her set Amy took a flash photo of her, which is a big, fucking no-no. Half the audience turned around to look. When Esther was finished I shook her hand as she left the stage. She has the tiniest little doll hands. I said, "Wow, I just shook Esther's hand. She's so tiny and dainty I just want to take her home, tie her up, dress her in something frilly and set her in front of a mirror." Then a guy yelled, "Turn her into a voodoo doll! Stick pins in her!" People laughed at that one! ____________________________________________ Then Melissa was on. She really is very good. She's a good physical comic and her impressions are spot on. If you're curious, just look up her Youtube videos. She's funny. ________________________________________ With such a big audience it took a long time to get everyone their checks. Like, way too long. People were getting surly. While the staff was rushing to get people their checks, I helped clear the room. Then it was time for the second show. ________________________________________The 10:00 audience is usually much smaller, and it can be harder to get them to laugh. I'm kind of used to that. This audience wasn't buying Amy's icky jokes. (Oh yeah, I came verrry close to accidently introducing her as Amy Cheap-whore. Really!) Again, I was embarrassed for the club. AND this time Esther took a flash photo of Amy! And again, people turned around and looked. When Esther went up I thought, ok, she did a pretty good job at the first show. Things will pick up now. Nope. She was so thrown by the second audience being quiet that she went into brat mode. She wandered around the stage and said stuff like, "Um, what should I do now? Um...." She picked up the menu and read some of the items. She picked up the raffle form and talked about how stupid it was. Jokes that landed well in the first show fell flat, and she didn't even do some of the good stuff she had done before. When she was done I felt like I had to fluff up the room, so I told the joke about turning her into a voodoo doll. It helped. ____________________________________Then Melissa got up again and her energy was just down. People laughed, but I couldn't help thinking that some of them were wondering why they wasted their time coming out. When the show was over I went back to the green room to grab my uke. These girls had left a big mess of dishes and trash for the staff to clean up. I was offended by that. I picked up their trash and bussed the dishes.______________________________________ Tonight Melissa is performing again, but the other girls won't be there. Different feature comic this time. The 8:00 show is sold out. Yay! We'll see how it goes.

Grrr....

Ok, I haven't posted in a while, and the whole set up looks way different. So, WTF is up with blogger? My last big post is one big run-on paragraph with no breaks. This will not do.

Whoa

Good golly, it's been a while. So much has changed. I don't like that I've neglected this blog. It really helped me through those tough times and I like being able to help myself remember all that stuff by going back and reading old posts. And I do enjoy writing, which these days has become kind of important. I need to write. Writing could actually get me somewhere. -*-*-*-*-*- Comedy just keeps chugging along. I've performed twice at the Ontario Improv (awesome audience) and hosting at Flappers is getting to be a regular thing. And that's why I need to write and why it's important to keep up with the blog. I just need the exercise. My song-writing rate seems to be stuck at one per year and that ain't no good no how. I am getting ideas, tho.-*-*-*-*-*- I got a job. I've been working for the last four months for a nation-wide company that, among other things, provides live-in care for people who are profoundly developmentally disabled. I work in the office. It's kind of funny. I applied as a receptionist, was hired as a temp Administrative Assistant, and, if the main office approves it, come December I will be promoted to Office Coordinator with a raise and bennies. This is big. I've spent too many years in financial drain. It kind of blows my mind that soon I'll have enough money. I'm tripping on the concept of "enough". Enough to live on and pay my bills. Enough to do some home improvements so I can protect my investment. Enough to put a few bucks away while also having some fun here and there. It's kind of hard for me to really see what that will be like.-*-*-*-*-*- Other than work and comedy, things have been a mixed bag. I'm pretty much always able to float along in a happy state (denial?), but it hasn't been as great as it could be. Watching my savings dwindle has been a drag. My house is kind of falling apart (no AC right now. FUN!), and it got very, very messy. I've spent the last few days cleaning and cleaning and it's still not done. Still, it's nice to look around and see progress. I mean, I'm reeeeally cleaning. Furniture is being moved, stuff is getting scrubbed. I'm looking forward to the next phase- PAINTING.-*-*-*-*-*- I had a big yard sale a couple months ago. Drew and Mindy brought over a bunch of stuff and we all moved some shit OUT. We put the leftovers in my sunroom intending to have another sale in June. Now the plan is to have the next yard sale on August 18th. After that, no leftovers. It all goes. Then it's back to the old tile game (remember that?), but I kind of like the tile game, and it should be easier because I've gotten rid of so much stuff already. I'm just glad this stagnation phase is ending.-*-*-*-*-*- I'm itching to do something creative and artsy. The mosaic supplies in the garage are calling to me. In my head I'm finalizing the design for my fireplace and I'm getting excited about getting started.-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Oh yes, now I remember what it felt like to spend time with the bloggy. I like this.

Over the moon...

That's how I feel. What a great night!

This weekend was my hosting debut at Flappers. Barbara, one of the owners of the club, invited me over a month ago to start hosting. For me, someone who's just getting started in comedy, this is a pretty big step. I've been wanting to get into hosting, I just didn't know it would happen so soon.

Friday's 8:00 show was almost a full house and the audience was great! Friends, Rich and Cindy, and Tammy and Fernando, Jim and Colleen, and Terry and Sue came to the show (Thanks so much, guys!). Rick, the manager, took me aside before the show to give me some instructions. I've seen several shows at Flappers, so I pretty much knew what to do. Still, getting the instructions was necessary because I did make some mistakes. Rick gave feedback every time I left the stage. I felt pretty good about my opening and my set. People laughed. I wasn't as strong when I was introducing the comics. Before I host again I will be working on my weak spots.

The second show didn't go as well. The audience was much smaller and not as jolly. I kind of lost my focus and flubbed a lot of the stuff I was supposed to say. There was one woman in the front who was just a little drunk at the start of the show, but by the time the headliner (Drake Witham) went on, she was fully quite fucked up and wanted to "participate". That involved raising her hands and shouting, "Woo hoo!" at inconvenient intervals. Drake had some difficulty getting through his set. But he's very good at working the audience and he didn't let her throw him. She was annoying, but he made her outbursts part of the show.

At the end of every show, the host gives away prizes and is supposed to send everyone out on a big round of applause. Rick is pretty specific about how he wants that done. With my nerves and inexperience, I kind of messed that up. Not too horribly, I thought. Overall, I felt pretty good about how the night went.

When I arrived at the club on Saturday, Rick was in a bit of a mood. He kind of snapped at me about how poorly I had ended the show the night before. Not a lot, but it was enough to shake me up, and I could feel myself starting to crumble. I went into the green room so I could be alone and try to pull it together. Thoughts were bouncing off the inside of my skull and I was in a small panic. I told myself, look, you're trying to get into this show biz game and this is not the last time someone will be displeased with you. In fact, you're going to hear worse. You need to be able to deal with it. (breathe, breathe, breathe...)

I needed to walk around and get rid of some energy. I went out front to chat with Onely (sweetness and light). While I was out there I saw Rick kind of snap at her too. That actually made me feel a little better (sorry, Onely) because then I knew it wasn't just me. He was having a tense night.

(Before I go on, I need to say that ever since this whole thing started, Rick has been nothing but kind and encouraging to me. He's the one who first put me on that stage. I will always be grateful to him for what he's done for me.)

Posted all over the lobby were flyers about the show. James P. Connolly was making a guest appearance! I got excited when I saw his name. He was performing at Flappers the first night I got on stage, and he's very funny. I had family and friends coming that night, and I was happy that they were going to get a great show. I went back to the green room for a little while (breathe, breathe, breathe) and then went back out front to see who was in line. Jeff and his friend, Tim, were right at the hallway. Whew! So happy to see friendly faces! We had a nice chat (I told them to applaud wildly at the end of the show. Yeah, cheating, I know.) and then I saw Stacey and Scotty in line so I went to talk to them for a bit. Then I went back in and waited for the show to start.

FULL HOUSE! While Onely was making her opening announcement, I was offstage jumping up and down to get my energy up. Then she announced my name and I hit that stage like I was on fire! Hiya, hiya, hiya, ladies and germs! Well, not quite like that, but you get the picture. Oh man, that audience was great! GREAT! They laughed at everything! I was in love! I did three songs, told some jokes, introduced James P. and then I was off. When I went around the curtain, Rick was there and he just threw his arms around me. He said, "You knocked it out of the park, kiddo!"

YES!

I went back to the green room (fortunately it was empty) and did a happy dance, punctuated by fist pumps and giggles. I was higher than a fucking kite. It was an amazing feeling. Then I went back out for the rest of the show. It went fairly well. Still some mistakes and wavering focus, but overall pretty good, and I was HAPPY! After the show I saw my friend Chuck Craw. I hadn't seen him before the show and I was so glad that he had come. Then I talked to Lindsay, Paige, Kyle, and Samy for a bit. We all went out front for a big hug fest. Then I had to go back in and reset for the next show.

Heh! Big difference for the 10:00. Twenty-two people in the audience and they were like statues compared to the earlier show. Yeah, ok, whatever. I didn't care. I think they still enjoyed it. We got mild chuckles instead of guffaws. Some audiences are like that. You still need to work just as hard for them as the ones who love everything you do. After the show I went back to the green room to fill out a W9 form. Yep! I is a professsssional now!

Rick came downstairs and handed me a check. He said, "Donita, I've written checks for everything from a box of cups to paying big name comics. I have never taken so much pleasure in writing a check." He was full of praise and he even commended me on how well I took it when he snapped at me. He said he wants to put me in the hosting rotation. And I, true to form, burst into tears.

I went back into the green room to pack up my stuff. Drake was there. Heh! He asked me if I was ok. I told him I was fine, I'm just a big weeper. We sat and talked for a while. He said he thinks I'm going to do really well in comedy, and he liked my story about how I got started. A couple more hugs from Onely and Rick and then I went home.

As I drove I looked at the moon. I said, "Yeah. I could take that."

Still stuck, but better

Every day I do a little more with the house and every day more items go on the yard sale pile. I'm planning to have it in April. I'm researching and photographing the music and sound equipment and putting them on a blog I created for the sale. When the time comes, I'll put the blog address on Craigslist so people can preview the sale. Time for this stuff to go. Besides, I really can use the cash.

The kittens are almost ready to got outside. I'm looking forward to the day when I can unblock the cat door and get rid of the litter boxes. Paige and I have been letting them outside for supervised play time, and all of them have discovered the fabulousness of the loose dirt in the back yard. Not having the litter boxes in the house will be a big relief for me.

I can't move the treadmill on my own. I started taking it apart and found that the electrical connectors don't really want to be pulled apart once they're clicked in. I'm going to have to call in a professional. I'll do that after the yard sale, which will be sometime in April. Too much stuff piled around the house right now.

That's about it. The job search continues.

Feeling like a fuck up

Not looking for rescue, I just need to vent a little.

2:39 AM. Ugh! I'm feeling a bit off. I hate this restless, aimless thing I get into every once in a while. One problem I have with being single after being part of a couple for so long is I don't have anyone who will just tell me what to do. I don't always trust my own decisions. Sometimes my mind wants to go in a Lucy Ricardo direction and I have to rein it in. Right now I'm working on making some changes around here and I keep wondering if my energies could be better spent doing something else.

But I do want to get this stuff done. I think it will be good for me in the long run. I can't afford to do the major stuff that needs to be done to this house, but I can at least make things function and look better, which will help me feel better. I'm working on getting the tv room ready to move my treadmill in. It just didn't work for me to have it in the back bedroom. I don't know if this will be any better, but I'm going to try it. I've also moved all the records into the house (finally!). All my art stuff will move to the back bedroom. The nice room divider that's back there will move to the tv room and be used as a desk for the record digitizing project. One set of large shelves will be moved to the back for the art stuff.

All this is a lot of heavy lifting, but once it's done, it's done. And I think it will look much better than the mess it's been for four years. AND I can get started on the record project, which I think will be really cool and fun. The treadmill will be facing the tv. If I can sit on my ass and watch Maddow for an hour, I might as well get some exercise.

So, that all sounds pretty positive, but I'm still churning about stuff. I still don't have a job, and I fucking well need one. Soon. I haven't been doing a very good job of taking care of my health (treadmill in tv room, good step), and that's bullshit. It's foolish to let that slide. My car is on its last legs, and I can't afford to replace it. Really, pretty much everything that's bugging me would go away if I had some money coming in.

I'm registered for Spring semester, and if all goes well, this will be my last. Scotty thinks I have enough units to graduate. We're waiting to hear from the Evaluators about the math requirement. I might have taken care of all that at Santa Rosa, but he's not sure if it qualifies. If it doesn't, I'll have to take a math class in the Fall, which would SUCK. Oh well. So here's where I feel like a fuck up. I'm fifty-five years old and I have almost no skills that are useful in today's world. Instead of learning marketable skills, I stayed home and raised kids. NO regrets there, believe me. But, jeez, I sorta, kinda thought I'd have a husband to grow old with. The one I had had a good career and his earnings were going up year after year. I thought we were all set. We both did. Oh well.

So, now here I am. When I worked at RCC I did learn a lot in a short time. I do have some computer skills, but some of these job postings pretty much ask for the moon. I've even seen some that require a Bachelor's degree to do reception work! I know what kind of employee I am, but why should anyone give me a chance when there are so many more skilled and experienced people looking for work? So, yeah, quit whining and go get some skills. Well, I'm working on it.

I really didn't think I'd be out of work for this long. I was surprised when I hit the six month mark. Things are shitty all over.

So, it's more fun to work on my house. It's more fun to do comedy, and work on getting good at it, and dreaming about hitting it big someday (soon!). But I also don't like having that kind of dream, because it seems so foolish and juvenile. Like, when I grow up, I'm going to be a rock star or a pro football player. That shit doesn't happen to real people. But hey, it's already kind of happening to me. The question is, how far will it go?

In the meantime, I pay the bills and watch my savings dwindle.

Bogey's!

Fun night, good show, great audience!

Laura Hayden has invited me to participate in a couple of her shows. Last night's show was at Bogey's Sports Bar in Redondo Beach. She had told me at the last gig that Bogey's is a dive bar, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Tracey went with me last night. We arrived about 40 minutes early. Even before we went in we could tell that this was a rowdy place. From the outside it certainly looks like a dive bar. You could hear people yelling at the football game that was on tv. We went inside. This place is just a little bigger than the Sire. It had two pool tables at one side, the bar at the other. The place was bustling; lots of people drinking, watching the game, and playing pool. Tracey and I looked at each other. How are they going to have a comedy show in here?

Laura wasn't there yet, so we went across the street to a Mexican restaurant to grab dinner. I kept wondering about how this was supposed to work out. I figured either way, it was going to be fun, and at the least, another notch on my comedy bedpost. I had visions of something like the bar in The Blues Brothers, where they played behind a chicken wire fence so they wouldn't get hit by beer bottles. It made me chuckle to think of some poor comic in a sports bar playing for people who'd much rather watch tv and play pool. Would they supply goggles and a helmet?

When Tracey and I went back the whole place had changed. The pool tables were now covered with plywood and tablecloths, and a stage had been set up in front of a big, red, velvet curtain. People were clearly waiting for a show. Laura arrived and began passing out cupcakes (that's her thing- Comedy and Cupcakes). After a little while she got up and started the show. Boy, she has that hosting thing down. One of my goals is to someday be that good at being the emcee. I've seen her act several times now, and she always makes it seem fresh.

I was the second feature comic to go up. I really think there's an advantage in being a musical act. When people see you get up on stage with a ukulele, they pay attention. The table full of rude (like, really rude) women sitting next to the bar all shut up and started to listen. The rest of the audience were just wonderful. I felt we had a good connection and people really laughed. Of course, this was certainly the most inebriated audience of my short career, so that might have had something to do with it. No wonder that some comics at Flappers would get a little flustered by performing for a sober audience (by the way, Flappers Claremont now serves beer and wine). Alcohol does get people in a jovial mood. But it can also switch off the normal social filters that serve to make people aware of their surroundings, i.e. a performer trying to make people laugh. I came armed with a ukulele.

Oh, man. It is a huge ego feed to see a room full of people enjoying what you're doing onstage. This was another audience that I just wanted to box up and take home. On Friday I performed at the 10:00 show at Flappers. The late show can be iffy and for a while it looked like they might cancel this one. Finally, enough people showed up and the show went on. This was a squirrely audience; the room was lopsided. All the laughter was coming from one side. It didn't help that the host immediately launched into material that was just plain too dirty for that group. She lost the room. The second comic had a lot of long pauses in her material that would have worked in a room where the energy was up. I thought she was good, but she didn't get the laughs she should have gotten. I did ok that night, but I was a bit thrown by the dynamics of the audience. Most of the people were seated on one side, and they were the laughers. The people on the other side were like statues. There was one woman right in front who was really enjoying herself, which was great, but she was very chatty with the comics. That can throw you off, and it showed me a weak spot in my performing. I need to learn how to deal with that stuff. Anyway, it was one of the weakest nights since I've been doing this.

Last night was one of the strongest. I was having so much fun with that audience I actually got lost in the middle of Health Science. Suddenly I noticed that I forgot to change chords! I'm just merrily strumming along on C for I don't know how long. I made a joke of it and recovered. There was one guy I particularly enjoyed. He was laughing hard at just about everything. Every once in a while he'd put his head down and pound his fist on the table. Loved it!

The rest of the evening went very well. Laura gets some really good comics for her shows. I feel honored that she has included me in her line-up. Bogey's is a fun place, and I'm grateful that no chicken wire was required.

The Comedy Store

Well, that was funny.

Our little party consisted of Lindsay, Kyle, and Sam, Paige, Drew, and Tracey. One more person than required. That's a "bringer show". You have to bring people. For this one I had to bring at least five.

I had never been to The Comedy Store before. I had read about its history in a very good book called I'm Dying Up Here by William Knoedelseder. The show I was in last night was in The Belly Room and it was produced by Cindy Liebman, a.k.a. Crazy Cindy. I didn't get to explore the whole place, but the area around the Belly Room was pretty interesting. So many offshoots, corridors, stairs and goofy rooms. Very interesting place. The Belly Room, which was created as a dedicated space for female comics but now just functions as the club's small room, holds about 80 people. They had some trouble with the mikes cutting out. I'm guessing a short in the cord. Fortunately, for me it behaved itself.

Sitting backstage and in the green room was interesting. All the other comics, besides Cindy and me, were young guys. I had taken my uke out and tuned it up when the lights in the green room suddenly went out. No one ever figured out what happened there. We all went out to the backstage area to watch the show.

Cindy opened the show. She's not called Crazy Cindy fer nuthin'. She's an in-your-face comic, and she had a good time with my family and friends sitting in the front row. She asked Paige about her boobs, she asked Kyle how he masturbates (his brilliant answer- Manually!), and apparently, Drew and Tracey are now married. Then she brought out a couple comics. Since this was a bringer show, the quality of the performances was quite a bit more uneven than anything I have seen at Flappers. Some of the guys were pretty good, a couple of them were rambling, and one of them was downright hostile to the audience. Newsflash, dude. If the audience doesn't laugh at your jokes, it's not their fault.

Then it was my turn. I don't really remember everything I said. After letting the audience know that it was my family in the front row, I asked Paige about her boobs and I asked Kyle how he masturbates. I made a joke about being from Riverside (people seem to think that's funny), and then I sang the Bosom song. People laughed. Right in the middle of the song a young guy ran up on stage and hugged me! That was hilarious! Someone actually planted his face in my bosom! After that I did Phone Sex. I always close with Phone Sex. I was vaguely aware of some loud conversation in the back of the room, but I plowed on through. And then I was done. I have played the Comedy Store.

We stayed for the rest of the show, which was a bit too long. I was tempted to sneak up and tell my group it was ok to leave, but they were almost half the audience. After the show we chatted out in front for a little while and then said goodnight. I feel pretty good about the whole thing. It was pretty much as I expected.

Thank you to everyone who came out to support me. Cindy has booked me for December 6th. I think that might be he last bringer show I'll do for a while. I think it's a lot to ask my loved ones to plop down $30 on a ticket and two drinks for a show of questionable quality.

I'm glad I did it, and now I have one more credit to add to my bio.

November goes kaboom.

Warning- Impending braggage.

I'm not expecting or even requesting attendance at any of these shows. I just wanted to share the awesomeness. I already did a show last Friday at Flappers. Here's the rest of the schedule for November so far.

Monday, the 14th, Hennessey's Tavern, Seal Beach
Tuesday, the 15th, The Comedy Store, Los Angeles
Friday, the 18th, Flappers Claremont
Saturday, the 19th, Bogey's Dog House, Redondo Beach
Sunday, the 27th, Flappers Burbank

And then there's December 1st, Laff Down stand-up contest. Am I getting paid for any of it? NO. (Well, The Comedy Store will give me gas money.) But that's not the point at this point. I'm getting stage time and experience. I didn't audition; I was invited to perform. Remember, this whole thing was set in motion on August 7th and my first performance was September 2nd. Things are moving fast!

A shift has occurred...

Wow, what a night. I was scheduled to perform at Flappers Claremont for the 10:00 show. I went early so I could watch the 8:00 show. When I got there I went to the green room to stash my uke and say hello. I had taken some rolls of gift wrap for the staff and I wanted to unload those as well. Grant Cotter, who was headlining, recognized me from a show I did with him last month. He invited me to perform at the first show (not too sure if that was kosher, but Rick seemed ok with it). Rick checked the schedule, and as it turned out, they were running kind of short, so there was room for me in the line up. He gave me ten minutes. I had a nice time chatting with the other comics before the show.

Kenny Klein was the host. Man, he was good. Very even and consistent. I liked his style a lot. The audience was great. I think there were about twenty people there. I opened with a little Halloween joke and they laughed, like a LOT. Things were off and running. They laughed a LOT at Middle-aged Woman, more than anyone had ever laughed at that song. I told a few more jokes and they stayed with me the whole time. They were the best audience ever. They loved The Bosom Song and Phone Sex. And again, the songs got more laughs than ever before. And these people were sober!

Ok, so the audience was great, but what was new and different was I wasn't nervous at all. I felt completely comfortable. I was able to take time with the jokes and put the pauses where I wanted them without my goofy nerves messing up the timing. Damn, it felt good. I felt like I was doing it right! This was my best performance ever. I'm really happy right now.

I put my uke away and sat down to watch the rest of the show. Just before it was over, Onely called me to the back. She said, "Jim came to see you, but we don't have a show." Ok, that was confusing. What I didn't know was the second show had been cancelled because there weren't enough people to see it. When I went back to the green room, Jim Pasiuk was there. Onely had brought him back to say hi to me. I felt BAD that he had come all the way from Yucaipa to see me, and there wasn't going to be a second show. He went back out to the waiting area while I gathered up my stuff and said goodnight to everyone. Then Jim took me out to dinner. I hadn't seen him in a while, since I've been doing this comedy stuff. We had a good, long visit. I told him he'll just have to come when I'm doing an 8:00 show. Onely gave him four free tickets (she's such a doll), so he and his wife can come with another couple. So, good, at least it wasn't a wasted trip.

I'm glad I got to perform tonight. At the 10:00 show I was planning to do my new song and I would have had fifteen minutes, but at least I got to do ten in front of a great audience. And I'm so happy about the change in my ability to relax and have fun with the audience. I'm excited! I want more!