Someone's Getting a Little Ripe

things are getting iffy.


today i found myself zooming in figure 8 formations around the tv room couches in my new shoes while huffing and puffing "i've gotta get through this. i've gotta get through this. i've gotta gotta gotta make it through." a song by britain's own daniel bedingfield, yes, brother of natasha. no, you're not supposed to have to know that for the quiz. and yes, i was singing it a la techno, and also, a la badly. i felt very empowered for brief flashes.

in further news, my temporary job is amazing. today i went through letters A and B of the patient files: taping them up, updating records and lab results, checking for their data in the computer, making ends meet. everything came full circle and then it danced. i really wanted the end of the day to be the beginning and the beginning to be the end. but somehow just doing something was akin to having a new fresh diaper every hour on the hour. know that fresh diaper feeling? like all the shit of your diapery past is wiped clean. 8 hours seemed like nothing and everything. my coworker giggles a lot. it is delightful. i could told her it felt like my eyes were leaking out my ears, and she would have giggled and then called 9-1-1. deeelightful.

diaper fresh and stylin'.

diaper funky?

my self-esteem seems very fleeting these days. up and down and up and down it goes. it's funny watching it. it seems so irrelevant. to anything useful. it's like "get a life, self-esteem!" and then i realize i'm only hurting myself. it's vewwwy vewwwy tricky like tracking the yeti.

yeti or my self-esteem? you decide.

yay mike shinoda. linkin park might have made you scoff, but i like him. get over it. my friend grace likes him too. and she's in love. so. her opinions RULE.

There Are No Other People in This House and You're the Only One Who Has to Make Trouble

so in case you haven't been around. my parents up and went to china to dazzle their minds. so i'm home alone, and yes, i do feel very much like a young macauley culkin (i.e., kevin mcCallister of "i made my family disappear" and "look what you did, you little jerk" fame). i'm working at my mom's office for two weeks, as in actually working: no internet, no cellphone, no outdoor lunches with fellow socialites. today i reorganized files for 4 hours and then cleaned the kitchenette for 2.5 hours and then did various minute but vital tasks for 1.5 hours. i felt very brawny at the end of the day.

i could have sopped up a spill with my bare face today.

then i checked my email when i got home. and realized my job search is going pisspoorly. i should just stop checking my email. i should just do job applications that involve throwing rocks at people. i could do that on the way to my mom's office, on the way home from my mother's office and if i feel like it, on my lunch break. eh. i know i have the gumption and wherewithal (i have no idea what that word means) to make something of myself. it could happen any day now. in the meantime, i am going to gently toss pebbles around.

millions of pebbles. pebbles for me.

so enough of that tomfoolery. here's the thing i want to talk about today: food wastage. i can't waste food. i was raised in a house where your plate was clean, all questions asked. who was with you when you finished that? please call witness A to the table. witness A, can you please vouch for the defendant's consumption of the aforecooked lentils? yes? good. case closed. let's not talk about what happened when discarded vittle remnants were found anywhere in the vicinity of the garbage. unspeakable things took place. generous portions of punishment were distributed and it was seen to that they were gobbled up thoroughly and crumblessly by the little criminal.


anyway, that brings me to the case of the grapes. since i'm in a huge empty house, the fridge holds endless possibilities for my downfall in the area of not wasting food. there were some luscious grapes of which i am about to speak. here goes: grapes. in my fridge. ripe. ready to eat. washed. except for oneeee leeetle problem. TELLTALE MOLD! white wispy fuzz starting at the interstices of the stems and working its way steadily toward the succulent purple globes though not actually touching any of the brave comrades.
MY EYES! MY EYES!

i could have been reasonable and just plucked the grapes safely off, one by one, into an antiseptic ziploc bag. but who can be reasonable in the face of mold?! instead, i began chucking grapes to safety into my mouth at the speed of sound barely taking the time to chew each one before another buoyant bubble was launched squarely aft. ZING! PHWING! PA-TING!

after the point of no return where i was so full of grapes, i could hardly squeak, i started doing the unthinkable, actually following the five-second rule. somehow, i know not how (do not look at me, I SAID, DO NOT LOOK AT ME)... seven grapes ended up on the floor. i don't know how. i don't know why. and the weird thing is i started bending over to initiate my grape retrieval program with 5+ seconds to spare, but somehow, when i reached the fallen, 7 ticks of the second hand had elapsed.

OH WELL. grapes in the can. grapes in the can. oh dear. why is it that even in an empty house i feel like i'm being watched? i'm locking my bedroom door tonight. no vengeful grapes are spreading their wispy shrouds of musty entrapment on me.

wow i had all sorts of visual aids on this write-up.

The Name of the Game

well inappropriate has been the name of the game recently. i'm in a sea of it. a sea of inappropriate anemones and flounder. so many lines are being crossed, so many boundaries are no longer sacred. i'm going to go with it. go with the inappropriate?! never! go with the appearance of going along with the inappropriate? oh, for sure.
this little asian girl on the left is out of line. she represents many things to me right now.

the mc at the comedy open mike show tonight was a large black woman, and her daughter came to the show as well, sat in the front row and laughed like a hysterical chicken. and at the end, they got in a little tiff about a joke her daughter wanted to tell. so the mc walked over to her daughter to clear things up, and she tripped AND FELL ON HER. the daughter's muffled protests could be heard throughout the room. and then the mc said "see what did i tell you about disagreeing with me?" and when her daughter continued to protest more, she commented, "do you want me to fall on you again?" i couldn't help but think how firm a point she was making. it was a valid question.

my house is so empty. i'm having some severe parental separation anxiety. i feel like my parents dropped me at my first day of kindergarten (i.e., adult life) and left for work (i.e., China). it's out of control. how ill-adjusted i am. i'm thinking of making a cake tomorrow and putting a pink icing heart on top of the frosting. and then crying real tears into the heart. no, i don't know where that came from either.
the cake would be enjoyed regardless. you have my word.

i'm listening to lounge music right now though. baby steps.

swanky, no? welcome to my mind's insides. notice how there are no people around.

coherence has been sacrificed for pure unfiltered emotion. even cigarettes come with filters. and them joints are pretty dirty for your insides.

oh. also. i got a job at the mall in retail yesterday. part-time. i'm afraid i'm getting sucked into something again. i'm already signed up for training. hmmm. this should only improve my track record with unknowingly picking up adolescent boys though.

awww he's a brooder.

some of them are talented.

some of them are talented at brooding.

that's enough. it's past my evening naptime.

What Are You Talking?

well i saw comedian JIM GAFFIGAN perform tonight. he is very funny. he was too funny even though i was feeling sleepy when i saw him. he was so funny that my sleepiness watched him along with my wakityness and BOTH PARTS of me laughed. that means he is really funny. he makes a lot of squealing and yipping noises. i mean WHAO. WHAO. WHAO. check him out. if you can't actually check him out, check his myspace profile because apparently that counts for something these days.

ohhhh swoonery

i realized something sobering just now. this superb job listing, for which i am applying, FOR WHICH I AM ACTUALLY QUALIFIED (this is like a haley's comet once in a harvest moon type deal), well there is no health insurance offered. now how is it possible that something so good could be paired with something so evil? i don't know. it reminds me of vitamins filled with cocaine though. why? i don't know why. ok better analogy: salad with deep-fried cheesecovered beeffat chunks in it. ugh. i am hurting on the analogies.

good v. evil: the car ornament war continues

onward and upward. my dad has dropped at least 50 things on the floor today. and after each drop he says "g'dammit!" as if the world is conspiring against him. it's very strange. it's like a film clip that constantly repeats throughout my house. but how many things can you drop in one day unless you are going through things at an exceptionally frenetic discombobulated pace? A LOT, ladies and gentlemen. A WHOLE LOT. he also seemed to be dropping a whole lot of cd covers. perhaps he lacks the fingerpad dexterity that most of us take for granted. poor daddums.

speaking of parentals, i have to drop my parents in CHINA tomorrow. ok not IN CHINA. but at the portal that will take them to CHINA. i am rather unkempt at the thought of my parents being away for 2 weeks. my thumbs will probably twiddle themselves off. either that, or i will be forced to start pretending i have invisible companions. these companions will drop things a lot too. man, the house is going to be messy. i'm not picking up after my buddies. i don't care if they're imaginary, irrational or just plain stupid.

my imaginary friends will have more depth than this blue phallic-looking thing.

in conclusion, i bring you the deformed breadstick gallery, available at a suburban pizza outlet near you:


THE DEFENSE RESTS ITS CASE

THE USUAL SUSPECTS

BREADHENGE

MY CHEEKY little NIECE SNEAKS INTO THE GALLERY

(FIN)

Passengers on Subway Are Not as Crazy as They Appear

today i went to my first live professional baseball game. it was raining though so it was a real toss-up whether the game would be played or not. some friends and i trekked out to the stadium anyway. apparently, baseball games are often cancelled/postponed when it rains.

the point is, eventually the game started...about an hour and a half after we got there. they made this whole to-do about rolling up the tarp covering the baseball diamond to protect it from the wetness. in fact, what i learned about basebal games is they like to make a big to-do about most things that happen during the game...using a combination of pyrotechnics, the jumbotron and/or the scrolling neon signboard. there were fireworks after the national anthem was sung, whenever there was a home run and once, just because. or maybe an angel was getting its wings. well, one of the two.

the most unsettling sports mascot i've ever seen

there was a loud drunken crowd of youngsters sitting in the seats directly below and to the left of us. and they liked to yell things like "ASSHOLE!" a lot. they were fun, if you had as much beer in them as they did. we didn't and therefore, they weren't so fun. whenever a player was up to bat, his stats, including his birth date, came up on the signboard. some of the players were younger than us. that was scary. i never thought i would be scared at a baseball game, but i was cowed. cowed by their youth!


the best part of the whole experience happened on the way to the baseball stadium when we were riding the subway. my friend neetul and i got into a conversation with a displaced veteran from new orleans. he had green eyes and a peppery gray and white beard. he was wearing a green hat and holding a walking stick. he was wearing a NO LIMITS sweatshirt and immediately struck up a conversation as soon as we got on the train. during the conversation, and rather quickly as this all happened within 5 stops, we learned the following information from him:

- his mother was black and his father was white.
- he was on his way to new york after passing through dc. he really had nowhere in particular to go. "FEMA didn't give [him] a dime."
- he fought in vietnam for 26 months.
- beautiful women make him short of breath. he would pause every time a woman walked by, and glance admiringly after her.
- all one needs in life is a good woman. "it's adam and eve, not adam and steve. i'm don't think we should harm gays, but i'm just saying, it's adam and eve, not adam and steve."
- all one needs in life is a good woman "and not the video kind, [placing his hand on his heart], the real kind."
- he inquired as to whether my friend neetul and i are together (we are not) and then told neetul to marry me or else he would.
- neetul: my friend here is a comedian. man: that's great. i'm a comedian! (he didn't really feel the need to do anything to prove this statement)
- neetul asked if he knew any other languages and he said "yes two. gaelic and arabic."
- when neetul inquired about the arabic, he revealed he was muslim, but apparently raised catholic. neetul: "so you converted?' man: "no. i inverted. (!!! -you can't make this stuff up people- !!!)
- neetul: so you've been on hajj (pilgrimage)? man: yes! i'm a hajj-ee. i've been around the world three times.

at this point, a man and what appeared to be his two young daughters got on the subway. and the old man was distracted by the children. he couldn't stop looking them over with admiring glances.

- old man: you're doing a great job with these kids. they are beautiful girls. man: thank you. old man: yes, one day, one of them might be on the cover of Essence magazine. man: [smiles, says nothing]

old man: it's funny with kids. one day, you're putting diapers on them. the next day, they're putting diapers on you!

upon his departure:

- old man (to neetul): well, i like that you have a lot of respect. a lot of kids your age have no respect. i like that you have respect. [they shake hands] now, next time, i don't want to see you with adam.

[and exit]

ummmmmm. it was amazing. he was a little alcohol-smelling...but more or less, a pretty sharp character.

Writing in the Third Person Is So Hip

just another day in unemployment land. today we saw our heroine doing all sorts of exorbitant extravagant things that she had no business doing.

these things included --

1. heroine driving into the city for a jolly springtime lunch with friends. heroine was caught in bad fistshaking traffic and forced to admit the daytime busy working city has no place for her broke lazy ass. heroine turned around and went home. defeated? oh no! thank goodness for the plastic.
ugh. i got through 2 whole cds in this mess.

2. heroine goes to hair appointment in the early afternoon. heroine asks for a big change in the hair. hair stylist is adorable. also incidentally an avid soccer player. laughs at all of heroine's jokes. heroine is very pleased. with both laughter and quality of stylist's work. heroine secretly begins girlcrushing on stylist. stylist spends a good 3 hours with heroine, primping her and praising her. then stylist promptly escorts heroine to front desk to pay up and begins fawning over next client (incidentally a male). heroine feels betrayed. heroine quickly forgets betrayal as she catches her reflection in the mirror. heroine's hair looks great. extreme all-consuming vanity ensues.

salon hair is self-absorbed hair

3. heroine heads into city again (via commuter rail...) for happy hour (isn't happy hour for people who work? yes. yes it is.) with misanthropic writer and company. various circus of guests. incoming. outgoing. bemused. amused. one guest looks like joaquin phoenix. one of them is heroine's friend alex. alex is wearing a bike helmet. heroine has a big plate of spaghetti. heroine feels like having spaghetti at happy hour makes it ok to be unemployed. heroine defies logic.

cure-all for everything, except carb phobia. eh, maybe that too.

4. heroine gets home. heroine is tired of people asking her about the job search. heroine is tired of telling people she's not worried so they shouldn't be worried. heroine is starting to get a little worried. it hasn't even been a week. heroine is supposed to feel like she's on vaycay. heroine is office sitting for two weeks starting monday. heroine angry at world.

heroine angry at people for being fools. but not big enough fools. heroine is going to sleep soon. with her great hair. heroine will wake up with great hair. and no job. heroine can live with that.

5. addendum: boys are starting to get on heroine's nerves. most of them have a) a job, b) too much/little confidence, or c) both. heroine wants option d: none of the above. heroine also is skeptical of men who get their hair cut in fancy schmancy salons. heroine is ok with double standards, for the record, when they are in her favor.

ugh. you're the reason i can't get an appointment right away. pretty face? save it for the biased judge.

So Hot Right Now

i am now an unemployed socialite...it's fantabulous. actually i am semi-employed by none other than THE MISANTHROPIC WRITER. {cue royal trumpets}.

we went out to lunch today at this classy classy joint called VIDALIA. it was all pomp and more pomp. not even room for any circumstance because of all the pomp. i got there before he did so then i wanted to be seated before he arrived so as to gather myself appropriately and present myself in a most professional manner. this was suppressed on many levels. mainly because of all the pomp. as soon as i sat down, i was being attended to on several levels: physically, emotionally, spiritually. i guess you do get what you pay for. and i hadn't even flashed any plastic yet. i was offered water of several varieties, a drink, appetizers, a footrub. no, not a footrub but the waiter did have a friendly podiatric glint in his eye, and probably would have said yes if i asked for one.

when i declined everything so as to wait for my dining companion, everyone nodded graciously towards me as if to say "as you wish, your highness." i looked around me, and i was clearly out of my league. to my right, we had the business lunchers: two suits done up tippity tight and making deals, not wasting even a nano of a second. to my left, we had a little artsy party, with a frenchman talking about the best climate for their wine "ahhh zee temmmm-peeearahhh-tooooooor? eet should beee cheeelled."

anyway, the misanthropic writer arrived in a very dapper suitcoat, that, by his own admission, was slightly too small for him. we chewed the lipids a little, and then he jumped headlong into his project for me. i am helping him edit his book proposal. just the fact that he made me feel like i have some use in the world again made me very happy. he even handed me an official folder with his proposal in it and a sample proposal from some other author lady. tra la la! i have a purpose again! so now i have a shiny silver folder and a misanthropic stamp of approval. OH and the misanthropic writer and i shared a chocolate truffle torte. we both decided one piece was too much for one man alone. it's good to have friends who understand you.


then. i skipped around town having girl talk in high places. i even visited my old employment stomping ground. i felt so classy walking in and waving at everybody. and then i realized the latest look i was modeling: unemployed. but business above pleasure, i say. i had to debrief on two recent events surrounding some somebodies that i know. it was delicious. i wasn't disappointed. yes, so thus far today, i have been mostly useless in the real world sense. but i have a paris hilton helluva work ethic. cheers, my loveys.

Awkward? Chehhhhck.

so i went to this concert last night with my friend nydia in tow. it was a great venue. all dim coffeehouse lighting and uncluttered stage. not too raised or nothing. going to see THE WEEPIES. who i fell in love with because a song of theirs was played on a WB teen drama during a critical heartwrenching scene. i was sold after that and acouple of myspace profile visits.


anyway, the weepies are adorable. they are an adorable duo. nydia and i talked to them after the show. and they are cuteness personified. one of their signatures on my cd had a little flower. and the other signature had a smiley face. but they're not all fun and games. one of their songs is called "dating a porn star." lalala! that's my song. it was great. they are great. this is why i don't write music reviews.

then, this kid named eric hutchinson went on after that. and he was totaaaallly a stand-up comedian in disguise/solo male artist. he was doing all this crowd work (when you riff and interact off of the crowd to make them love you) and it really worked. he had this really dry sense of humor. i was completely smitten by this gangly sweetvoiced guy.


and then i was all excited and went to talk to him after the show. and he kind of just stared at me. and i didn't really know what to say. so i just said "great show" and he said "thanks!" and then he stared at me. so i said "you have great audience rapport" and he said, "thanks! i thought i was not doing as well tonight" and i was like "oh nooo, not at allllll" and then we stared at each other awkwardly some more. this is why i don't talk to artists. i am a bad gusher. except on paper. i should have passed him a note.

in conclusion, i have to go pick up nydia's credit card because she left her tab open last night. so i get to revisit the scene of the crime.

in more conclusion, this is why i am bad to date because i do shit like this...this was an email i wrote to a guy i went out on a date with and he appeared interested:

I assume from your lack of response in some time that there will be no second date, which is fine. I wasn't really feeling it either. Still, this whole guy policy of saying "let's hang out again" if you don't mean it? It's kind of ridiculous. You shouldn't do it to future girls. It implies we're too desperate to handle the truth. Which I assure you is not the case. Just my two cents.

Anyway, thanks for dinner. It was fun meeting you. Good luck.

this is also awkward

I'm Talkin' 'Bout a Revolution

ok. i'm sorry but this unemployment thing is fun. i'm still in the stage where i feel like i'm on vacation. i haven't yet progressed into 'i am a waste of space.' i am now going to brag about what it is i'm doing because the rest of you have at least a little money, insurance and dignity. my mother walked into my room this morning and said, "can we wait on these tests until you have insurance?" sure, mom, sure. i'm not putting that one in context. hah!


so i'm listening to this great band that i'm going to see later tonight, probably by myself. i'm eating fresh melon. later i might sit out in the sun and read a book. i'm applying to some jobs. i'm doing a little dance occasionally on the carpet so i don't hurt the underworked pansy soles of my feet. i slept in until about now to catch up on some sleep. and i'm writing jokes. i might watch that MTV show "date my MOM" later. and i'm having lunch with the misanthropic writer tomorrow. wahoo.


anyway, i realize that last paragraph was self-indulgent and gratuitously so (like the rest of this plan ever isn't...gahahaha), but it's just so that in a week or so when i'm semi-suicidal and hugging myself and rocking back and forth clutching a teddy bear with slits in its stomach and stuffing coming out, i will remember the good times.

sad macauley culkin makes me laugh.

speaking of good times, yesterday i had this little comedy thing at this college festival. on the sign, it said 19 LOCAL PROS performing on it. it was 4 hours of comedy plus a performance by the one and only Daniel Tosh in the evening. man, what a way to spend day one of unemployment. just watching live standup all day. my set went ok too. that was exciting. college kids are nicer down south. or maybe they were just respecting the human representation of their impending futures (unemployed, live with your parents). RESPECK.

anyway, then Daniel Tosh was on for later that night. there was a green room, and my friend tyler went to go talk to tosh. there were also lots of snacks in the room like softbaked pepperidge farm cookies and doritos. so of course, i tagged along like a little mute groupie. hahah. and tosh and some of the opening comics were playing this game where they try and toss a roll of masking tape over a standing water bottle about 15 feet away. oh. boys will be boys. i was kind of scared of tosh. i just observed him quietly, glad that he didn't talk to me. but hey, i was in the same room. i scare easy.


tosh's performance was interesting. he has very incendiary comedy, as tyler would say. he kept asking people to take off their clothes. after that, tyler and another comedian named andy and i took the subway home. we talked about comedy and life. the night was lovely. then when i got to my subway stop, there was a huge fire at the subway station and i picked my way through streams of firefighters and fire engines and ambulances to get home. it was surreal and it smelled like burning. i felt like a revolutionary. even though the comedy and the fire had nothing to do with each other.

Watch Me Mishandle My Shit

day one: unemployment

- wake up at noon
- have to do comedy in three hours
- malevolent cough is back (as if to say, "the real world? you can't HANDLE the real world!")
- felt ill. ate some cereal. felt iller. thought maybe some chocolate cake would help. WRONG. you are the weakest link, goodbye.
- applying to 14 jobs in 20 minutes. and GO.

Tally Ho! I Smell a Benefits Package!

looking for jobs after 2am is surprisingly nourishing. at this hour, anything is possible. even working for the oxygen network for women with a smiling glowing picture of this woman on the mainpage of their website:
i'm a bit frightened to the core, truth be told.

on a similarly buoyant note, border's bookstores offers health insurance to parttime employees! oh! vaccinations for you and yours!

i'm sending in a tape of myself for a job application for the first time EVer. as if they needed any more reason to disqualify me.

Leisure Time Checklist

your weekend is not complete unless:

FRIDAY NIGHT
unemployment reinitiation process activated - check
visiting a very very very republican bar on the hill with friends and being the only minorities there - check
belligerence - check
a visit to hotel helix - check


pimped. out.

SATURDAY
going to a child's cradle ceremony via a 3-hr drive - check
(the indians celebrate EVERYTHING)
socializing poorly - check
watching a father and son lawnmow their lawn in shifts - check


INTRIGUE + SUSPENSE + SHORN GREENERY

taking a 3-hr nap on the party host's bed - check

SATURDAY NIGHT
finding out the "safe" rather strange gay guy you're dancing with is straight - check
being invited to dance in between a shirtless gay couple - check

SUNDAY
negotiating relationships via a cellphone on its last legs and a dried up funds account - check
thinking about how to spend week one of unemployment - TBA

time to recenter myself.

More News Than You Ever Wanted Or Needed to Know

Oh man. Do I have some news for you guys? Yes I do. That wasn't a question. I am wearing bronzer on my face. That's right. Bronzer. No! I don't know why. I'm pretty darn brown-skinned so this bronzer makes me feel very regal as it makes me look of an azure hue (actually it just makes my face look really shiny, like an oscar statuette...it doesn't blur my features though, that would be traumatizing). It also forms a shining halo around the red mountain on my forehead. A small altar to flaws and abnormalities everywhere rests gently on my brow.
this woman is wearing the ultimate bronzer

That was just part one. Part two. I was watching My Super Sweet 16 this morning. It's this show on MTV about ridiculously rich 16-year-olds and their crazy 16th birthday parties. This one was by far one of the worst I've ever seen. This kid basically did up a party like P. Diddy. Each of his invitations included an mp3 player with an mp3 of him on audio inviting the person to his party. Then Kanye West, Jermaine Dupri and P. Diddy all actually showed up at his party. Ugh. The worst part was when he got in his fancy car to the club where his party was at and there was a line of cars in front of the club and he was like "WHAT IS THIS? WHY ARE THESE CARS HERE? I told everyone I wanted everything ready for the party. Why are these cars in the way? How am I supposed to make my grand entrance?* I'm really going to get upset now." Anyone who announces when they are going to get upset is a major diva, divo, whatever. But it's not like you couldn't guess that from before. It was weird to be exposed to a divo first thing in the morning pre-Wheaties.

oh no he diddy-int just steal my next party theme!

*He actually called it 'his grand entrance.' YARF.

Part three: http://www.shamu.com/ca/shamu-cam/
Endless hours of whalewatching fun right from your living room. Surprisingly fascinating. Edge of your seat entertainment for boys and girls.

this is shamu-sing. puns are not.

Part four: Last night was funtacular. I got called to a last-minute spot at an open mike. I had a brief shindig to attend beforehand so I barely had time to practice. But I sucked it up. Because that's what you do when you're trying to get better. I got there and immediately started trying to act all smooth and comfortable. I did this by asking people what their names were and drinking water with a straw out of a fancy glass.

And then my gig went great. I was the only girl so I got lots of yeah girlpower! claps, but also I did decently as a human being. And then I made friends with more of the other comics. Which I haven't done as much as I should be doing. Apparently I should be networking more. At life, but also at comedy. I'm afraid of divas though. Aren't we all? So I was trying to meet anybody who was anybody. And it was great. Nobody said, "just who do you think you are?" because that's my nightmare.


We were all backstage making funnies. A bunch of joketellers cracking jokes. And then one of the comics and I were walking to the subway and it was great. We were in the funnyzone. Funny stuff kept happening. We kept saying funny stuff. It was like being drunk on life. Everything was hilarious. Ah man.

I get along very well with people who share my weird humor. And then we bumped into another comedian on the subway and we were guffawing all the way to each of our individual stops. We were probably being super annoying in retrospect. Life's best moments are when someone else who is not in the picture thinks you are being super annoying.

Everyone else looked at us rather like we were a spectacle. And we were. Put together a bunch of people who make trivial observations into humor and you have a bunch of people making trivial observations every five seconds and cracking themselves up loudly. It's unique. We are a unique and strange breed, the joketellers.

Part Four: I just knocked my computer keyboard onto the ground. Good thing it is my last day at the internship. And the humidity is making my hair look very old and very gnarly. So much for Le Babe look.

yes, i too caved and put up a cat picture.

Part Six: This plan is long and needs to be terminated. Happy Happy Joy Joy Friday is for Getting Tipsy on the Plastic.

in honor of intern ben...it's been fun, buddy