Feelings, so many white feelings.

I have to write a response paper for my multicultural counseling class and the textbook for that class is so good I have too many feelings for a 1 to 2 page paper.

Theme #1:

I just read the chapter on micro-aggressions.

And when I say I'm racist, it's micro-aggressions I really have the problem with. It doesn't seem like there's a big problem with who I want to be, or the political ideas I have, and I'm certainly not going around yelling about miscegenation.

But micro-aggressions are the arena I notice my own racism cropping up. One category in my book is 'assumed criminality,' and guys, I have a problem with it. Last week on my street I saw a black guy fiddling with the door of a truck. I thought "I better keep an eye out on this guy." And then he locked the door and walked away from the truck. Because it was his truck.

When I lived in Logan Square, which by the time I lived there and on the east side of the neighborhood was mostly white kids and latinos, I noticed these racist reactions happening more in my head. I saw a group of black teenagers walking down the street and thought, "What are they doing here?" And then I thought "Jesus Christ Carey, are you the cops now?"

Now, I'm a little bit of a masochist, so if I thought confessing to all my racist sins in the public square and getting tomatoes hurled at me would repair the situation I totally would volunteer for that. But no, a better goal would either be to slough all the racism off of my head so I don't go around suspiciously watching men lock their cars, or to be aware of it enough that I can keep those thoughts from manifesting into physical responses that hurt people.

Because that's the bottom line. These little micro-aggressions hurt people. You may say, "Sure, whatever, but not like the PRISON INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX." My friend, they are all parts of a whole. Micro-aggressions exhaust all the people who could be ending the prison industrial complex. Also, who do you think calls the cops when they see men locking their own cars? That's a micro aggression gone major.

So that's what I want to work on. And I think there's a couple of strategies to use here. I read some article back in my Logan Square days that said the more segregated the existence of a white person, the more racist we get. Yes yes yes I believe that. So one strategy is making sure I'm interacting with lots of different folks in different capacities. Not just as strangers on the street or yay friends!

Theme # 2:

We have to do an immersion assignment for this class where we visit another cultural environment for two hours and then write about it. Now. Two hours? That's weak. And I'm kind of over the idea of visiting people for a grade. The professor suggested to the class they could visit a gay bar and I got salty about it. Like, come on, that's a space for me to meet other gayze, don't turn my evening out into your paper. So I'd like to find an organization where people like me are not the majority or running the show, and build an ongoing relationship with them, so it's both not so one-sided of an interaction and actually brings a little something into my life past this class.

Theme #3:

I might be inappropriately enthusiastic about this class. Like I might be making other people in the class uncomfortable, and I don't just mean the other whites. A student who's black in the last class talked about how uncomfortable it is when white folks try to prove how not racist they are to her. That's pretty clearly what I'm doing.

So I have to find a way to engage on a deep level with this class and not get in the way of other people's engagement.

Maybe I should not talk in class so much? Partly because when I've said my crazy activist things other people are not jumping on board. I said I was racist, and no one else did. And I said me getting angry at other people being uncomfortable with gay people might be a challenge, and did anyone else foresee issues they might get really angry about? And no one said a word.

Theme #4:

Why am I so enthusiastic about this class? Ok, so it's pretty compelling to get to be one of the good white people. I'm not gonna front like that's not a big reason I like the idea of getting anti-racist. Isn't that what all white people want? To be officially excused from the legacy of this country? I would love that.

But on a more honorable level, I feel like I've poked around the queer oppression stuff for awhile. And I've identified the micro-aggressions that happen against me, and the harm they've done, and all the shame and internalization and yadda yadda THERAPY THERAPY THERAPY, and there's got to be a way to use those experiences for good. I don't want to not be able to use them. Like, sorry, that's it, you went through some bullshit and it was meaningless. I want it to be, great! You went through some bullshit and look where it took you! On a fabulous emotional journey and now you're the best white person on the planet. Congrats!

What I'd really like is to create an atmosphere around me where people can tell me when I've hurt them, because they know I'll listen to the criticism and not defensively attack them back. That, in all seriousness, is what I'd like out of this class, to push my not being defensive skills to the limit. And I don't want to cop out.

Effectivity.

I am about to run. I am about to run up and down hills like a goddamn jack rabbit. And even though my lungs will feel like they are being pierced by forks, I will keep breathing that cold stupid ass air and feeling bad and just BARRELING THROUGH. Also my knee and back will hurt. I learned yesterday this is because I don't do squats.

I have Jay-Z on my ipod. I have a great sports bra. I have a hat. I have everything.

Then I'll do laundry, then I'll drive all the clothes down to my new apartment. And I'll spend a night there. It might feel creepy.

Why not right? Time is gonna pass anyway, I'm inching ever close to death and an eternity of nothingness, why not run and have it suck? We make our own meanings from experiences. A mile and half run can mean a million different things. It doesn't have to be a disproval of the idea that I am physically fit. Every time my feet hit the ground I don't have to think "GEEZ MY BODY IS LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES." Perhaps the run sucking can be the beginning of an epic quest for perfection. Perhaps the run can be a sacred meditation on Artemis, goddess of the hunt.

What this comes down to is I HATE RUNNING I HAVE A MASSIVE BLOCK AGAINST IT ALSO PHYSICALLY IT IS UNCOMFORTABLE.

But you know what, no one else came up with the idea of doing this 10 mile mud race. Literally no one suggested I do that. I came up with that. I thought it would be meaningful to do that before my thirtieth. And it wouldn't be meaningful if it came super easy. If I enjoyed every minute it would a stupid thirtieth birthday thing to do. Like watching every episode of 'Community:' who cares that you did that it's a great show of course you did!

POWER. POWER. Power over the body. Power in spite of certain death. Power over the temptation of being under warm blankets with the internet on my laptop. POWER POWER POWER.

The Problem with Popular Narratives

Cynthia Nixon says she chose to be gay, and boy am I glad someone said it.

Now, some women and men I've known were born gay. That's what they told me, and I believe them, and also that allows for adorable stories about their gay childhoods. Gay children are perhaps the most adorable thing in the world.

That is not my story. My story looks much more like Cynthia Nixon's, except unfortunately sans the hot ginger activist wife.

I had a conversation with an exceptionally thoughtful activist I know about the 'born this way' narrative, and she had worked with a lot of queer youth, and had the opinion that the 'born this way' narrative is mostly about getting bigoted parents to not kick their gay kids out/ beat the shit out of them. And it was important to preserve the narrative because it might save some queer kids' lives.

Yes. That seems right. And also, that is how it works for many queer people, they know when they're 5, and being heterosexual is as distant a possibility as growing fins.

But can we preserve that story and also make some space for some other stories? I'm asking for real, I don't know.

I was boy crazy when I was little. I was boy crazy when I was in college. I was boy crazy after college. I'd still get down with The Strokes.

Now, it's not that girls were invisible to me. But I had a story for where those feelings went (I mean, all girls are bi in college, amirite? folks, amirite?) and that story was still about a woman whose life was set up around men. And BI THE WAY, those stories about all girls being bi in college were a source of untold amounts of anxiety when I decided to take those feelings about girls out of that box and try putting them on the mantle. And talking to other queer women who said that my journey sounded like theirs did a lot to calm that anxiety. Like I had a right to live my own story. Which of course, we do.

Which is why I go around saying "queer" instead of "gay" when I think the people around me won't stare at me like I just grew a head. But you know what folks- most people do stare at me like that. I had a teacher just stare at me like that this week. And I am TERRIBLE at giving the definition of 'queer.' So terrible I actually should just print out some cards so I can hand them out and not have to say anything.

Here's stolen from wikipedia:
"Queer is an umbrella term for sexual minorities[1] that are not heterosexual, heteronormative, or gender-binary. In the context of Western identity politics the term also acts as a label setting queer-identifying people apart from discourse, ideologies, and lifestyles that typify mainstream LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transsexual) communities as being oppressive or assimilationist."

But try to explain to a muggle about how you're opposed to mainstream LGBT ideologies that are assimilationist. TRY IT. I seriously dare you. Also, can I watch, so maybe I could learn something? I bet you're already better at it than me.

Here's what I want people to know when I identify as queer- I get to make my own decisions. I don't particularly think you deserve a map for my desires. But I will give you advance warning that you should not make assumptions about my desires. (Whatever, I'll cow to you, I want a radical baby raising household!) And maybe this is a delusion, but by confusing muggles I hope we're building a world with more possibility for everyone, where you get to choose your gender, choose your orientations, choose your ideologies, choose the daily life that gives you happiness and peace, unless you would rather choose not to.

For some of us, that will mean marrying the wife you dreamed about since you were 5. For some of us it will mean not having to marry anybody. For some of us it will mean hot ginger school activists. Everyone's lives will get to be specific and unique.

It is just a given that when I talk about these things I really offend and let down some people, so if I did that to you, feel free to leave it in the comments or email me. I actually do think these fights are worth sticking with each other through.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww-kwerd.

I recently got on this anti-racist kick. I'd love to say it was because of some kind of amazing protest experience I had, but no, it just has to do with my surfing tumblr a lot.

RIGHT. SO. I want to be an anti-racist white person. The white person part of that I totally have covered. The anti-racist part I do not have covered, besides being able to acknowledge that I'm racist.

How do I know I'm racist? Well, I can't have a conversation with a black person without somehow saying 'holla.' It sneaks up on me! We could be having a conversation about taxes, suddenly I've said 'holla' and raised the roof. About getting a refund or something.

"Well Carey, that's annoying, but it's not so bad." you perhaps are thinking.

Well, but that's easy to admit. It's not so scary a confession. The racist things I do that are really bad I'm probably in denial about.

But so far my anti-racist journey is pretty weird. It consists of me saying "I want to be anti-racist" to black people and so far they've responded "Well, everyone's racist. Black people are racist." Which, you know, true, and it's a nice reassurance, but I'm trying to get free! Or I'm trying to not get in the way of other people getting free. I mean, I've also got my own ways I need to be free. ALLY. I mean I want to be an effective ally!

Oh, being white. It's a pretty hilarious thing to be. And this new thing is only making me more hilarious. But my hope is me being ridiculous creates the space for other people to challenge stuff without looking ridiculous, because I've got the ridiculous person in the room role covered.

I'm not willing to dread my hair though. I can be every other stereotype of a trying too hard white person, but no dreading. I am willing to write a heartfelt song about this on acoustic guitar.

Some Incredible Things.

I woke up today and an incredible thing happened. My mother walked into my room and sat on my bed. (This is not super incredible.) She asked me about things happening on my facebook wall. (Again, not incredible.)

Now I had posted an update that said "I think I chose to be gay because I enjoy gay people so damn much." And a comedy friend of mine from Chicago commented "If yer choosing to be gay yer a poser." He was being a jackhole as a joke, and knew that I'd know he wasn't serious, and so I wasn't offended.

Well my mom was offended and sent him a message saying I was NOT a poser and in fact "gay to the core" (her words!) and to watch out for Carey Callahan's mother.

Guys. Guys. GUYS. MY MOM DEFENDED MY SEXUALITY.

I can't TELL YOU HOW GOOD IT FEELS. I just cannot. But here goes. It feels so good. My mom has always been one for standing up for me. In 5th grade she told the boys I was attending Space Camp with that she knew they were messing with me and she had her eye on them. In 7th grade she yelled at Ms. Calvey for making me stay after and sand desks when she didn't have definitive proof I had written my name on one.

It just means a lot. My friend was making a joke, my mom's response was an over-reaction, but oh my god, I do not care, it feels so good.

Parents- copy my mom! Use my mom as a role model!

Oh gosh. So, so, so good.

I also had an amazing weekend. The first Atomic Comics was great, and Nellie got 85 tickets sold in literally a blizzard. It took us an hour and forty five minutes to get from Logan Square to the Mayne Stage (it would normally take a half hour) and she still managed to get all those people out! If there hadn't been a blizzard she would have sold the theatre out.

The show went fantastic. Ever Mainard, Chris Condren, Abby Mcenany, Candy Lawrence and Dan Telfer were all so goddamn hilarious. I was also hilarious.

And then I spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with ladies. Ladies are so great. Dudes, you're also great (some of you) but for me nothing beats a high quality lady hangout.

And then I came back to my mom's complete affirmation and support, then I got the keys to my new apartment, then I bought a new mattress. WHAT IS GOING ON EVERYTHING IS AMAZING!

Oh gosh, life is so good. Not always, but when it's good it's sooooooooo good. Totally worth the hard times. Ack. Wonderful.

Sublime-imation.



We learned about sublimation in my class last night. It's when you take all your horniness and pour it into a non-sex pursuit.

Horniness is a funny thing. It used to be it was a really good metric of how on track my life was. I was horny when I had interesting stuff going on, I wasn't when there was nada happening.

The wrench in this system is antidepressants. Anti-depressants have not killed my sex drive, but they have made my sex drive much more open to reasonable suggestions. Like, "oh hey, even though I'm attracted to this person, there are some good reasons to consider they may make sport of skinning people alive, so I'll pass." They also have helped me be more prolific, more effective, a citizen of a stable and forward moving world.

So is fluoxetine taking energy that was in my 'getting sex' reserve and re-distributing it to the 'everything else' reserve?

Sublimation seems like a pretty good theory when you read things like saint's memoirs. Per St. Teresa of Avila:

I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying.[

But you know, I'm suspicious. There's always been 24 hours in a day, let's see you're a prehistoric human who lives in the garden of Eden and you sleep 10 hours a day. You got 14 hours to fill- let's say 8 goes to getting meals together? You can't have sex for 6 hours. You can't. Not day in and day out. Our bodies just can't produce all the lubrication you'd need for that. So you could have sex until you are totally satiated and knocked out- you'd still have to deal with an hour or two of downtime.

Maybe I'm in denial. (That's another thing we learned about.) Maybe my non-sex pursuits are what I'm doing because society doesn't let me live in an orgy paradise. That would be exactly like society, ruining my good time.

I probably don't really understand the theory. Doesn't Freud seem pretty ridiculous? Like the Oedipus complex- how does a little boy get that his penis has anything to do with his mom? Like, how does he understand that he's a dude, and dudes have sex with ladies, and his mom's a lady? I buy that the minds of little children are full of sex and death, it's just how are they full of our concepts of who has sex with who?

I do also buy that kids are scared of their parents killing them. That's just truth. When you're that small you are probably so aware of everyone being bigger. And owning everything you use.

But I am glad to get to be thinking about such trashy stuff for school. Incest, death. Really makes contracts law seem pretty dry.

Chicagoans, but your tickets for Atomic Comics! It's tomorrow! See what I've been working on instead of having sex!

Sometimes Shit Gets Real

Sometimes when shit gets real it means someone's decided to come at you with a truth hammer. Suddenly you realize you're about to work out some honest to jehovah hardcore emotional shit. But sometimes shit gets real and it means everything's hard. All the problems in your life soup come bubbling up to the surface.

This is how it goes. You have a good week, you have a bad week. Shit gets bad, shit gets worse, you give up, you try again, suddenly everything's easy, suddenly you drop down dead. Be like a piece of driftwood in the ocean of life. Don't take it personally. Better people than you have been flayed alive. Worse people than you will go down in history as heroes. (That is not a swipe at Dr. King.) (But it is a swipe at Teddy Roosevelt.)

My training for the long terrible mud race I plan to participate in on the 15th of April is not off to a strong start. I ran today. At first indoors, then outdoors. I didn't run far at all. I'm just gonna try to run everyday from now till then. Hopefully the U of Akron personal trainers will call me soon and give me some structure. Until then if I just run everyday I'll count that as a victory.

I was trying to remember when it was that I started to hate movement. When I was very young, at 6 or 7, I had the idea I would be an olympic runner. I would run up and down the driveway and play out getting the gold medal.

Something changed in third or fourth grade. I think the playground became a lot more gender segregated. The boys started playing football. I tried to play once but felt really stupid because I didn't know where to run.

I wish I could remember more. But right around that age is when I got the sense I wasn't good at organized movement. I developed a self consciousness that dogs me at every physical fitness turn. For the first two years of riding a bike I wouldn't ride with anyone else because I was afraid I was somehow riding a bike wrong and they would point it out.

Well, I don't know guys. I'm just sort of poking around the anxiety. Just trying to stretch out that knot of irrational fears.

That's why I want to do this terrible mud race. To just get over it! Just like, bye twenties, hello thirties, if something terrible happens and I need to run 10 miles over hills and through obstacles it'll be just fine.

And it can't be harder than other things I've done, but it can be harder in a different way than things I've done. Lots of people say public speaking is their big fear, pssssshhhhhawwww, I seek that shit out! Lots of people won't move to new cities alone. WHATEVS. I could do that every year if I needed to. Lots of people wouldn't eat mealworm salsa, I did and it was DELICIOUS.

In sum, my life has been a series of crazy pointless difficult shit, and this mudrace will just be one more. And if I just run everyday, and keep at it, I will finish the race on April 15th. And if I don't, it'll just be like my 7th grade piano recital where I hadn't practiced enough and I froze on stage and couldn't perform. Sounds bad, right? It was. But I didn't pee my pants even a little. So...the worst case scenario is never actually that bad with this kind of thing.

Oh hey, buy tickets for Atomic Comics. Seriously. We're getting down to the wire.

Microphone Magic

I have a little brother who is a scientist. Some of my best friends are scientists (not true). So don't call me science-phobic when I proclaim to the world, you cast a spell with whatever you say into a microphone.

Yes, we live in a demon haunted world, and I believe in spells. I really do. I can't explain how they work. I'm intellectually opposed to efforts to explain how they work. Details, ew.

So you have to be careful what you say into a mic. If you say "nobody likes me," you're casting a spell for that. If you say "everyone likes me," is that really what you want? Everyone? Even Hitler, were he alive?

But Carey, people speak into microphones every day, and often these people have opposing intentions, so how does that square?

The spells duke it out. Whoever cast the stronger spell wins. The louder the mic the better, but there's also things you can do as a speaker to increase the strength of your spells. Bring the energy up from the stage and start your words in your belly. You want a lot of jump in your words. They should be going nuts inside you waiting to get out, so when you speak they spiral out onto the audience. You just open your mouth and they come rushing out.

No use being shy in front of a mic. It freaks people out because they know you're using a powerful tool, and if you're not confident in using that power that's bad news.

Down Day.

This week was really something. I started GRADUATE SCHOOL. Then I (maybe unwisely?) drove to Chicago to do 4 minutes at UP Comedy Club, then drove back the next day.

The contest at UP was remarkable in that actually everyone was REALLY FUNNY. I frankly wasn't expecting that. But I saw a lot of people I'd never seen before and they were really funny. I got to go second, and then sat with Nellie and Candy Lawrence and drank jack and gingers and laughed and laughed and laughed. Adam Burke won, and he was very funny, although I think the suits give him an unfair advantage.

So today I go to work at night, but before then I'm gonna lay in bed with Fox and that's it. That's all today is about.

Partly because the snow has piled up outside. Partly because I drove through that snow yesterday and the day before, and that's exhausting. Mostly because why move if it's not necessary?

I don't even have any thoughts, deep or shallow, today.But I still want to write. Cause I'm on this roll with writing, and also I have this show on friday I want to bug you to buy your tickets for now. This show needs to sell out. If this show sells out me and Nellie won't have any problems ever again. That's how that works.

I keep bugging Nellie to say that I'm single in all the show promos. She doesn't. Because she knows better. She knows that's desperate and gives everyone a funny shifting feeling right below their rib cage. Like, "Should I laugh? That's not funny, but maybe I should laugh so we can just move on?"

Nellie is wise.

You know who else is single? Carrie Brownstein. I mean, can you even believe that? She's just the most talented prettiest raddest person on the face of the planet right now. Portlandia's IFC promos are these slo-mo biking porn things, where she and Fred stare at the camera like you're on a date with them. The best date you ever had with the most amazing person you ever met.

Some people are too rad to be in relationships. Right?

Right?

No, not really. No one's too rad for relationships. Some of us just have a lot of baggage, and it makes us avoid relationships and pursue other things. We'll get into relationships eventually, almost everyone does. You need some stasis in your life before a relationship can grow roots. You need some free time and you need to have figured your shit out.

Sometimes maybe you need to grow closer to your family. Sometimes you need to pay off your debt. Sometimes you need to find a pack.

It's just I'm so LUCKY. Everything has worked out. Everything. And how long can you think about being lucky before you get bored? Our brains are not built to be grateful for long periods of time. They are problem seeking and solving machines. And my problems? I sort of have no problems right now. I have some homework to do, but guys it's so interesting! I have to move into a new apartment, but it's more like I GET to move into a new apartment. I get to buy a new mattress! I get to meet with my adviser to plan out the rest of grad school! I get to go back to Chicago this weekend for Atomic Comics! Shit is GOOD.

So my brain is like, finances solved, school solved, comedy solved, work solved, friends solved, family solved, love life not solved? Should we dwell on that?

But that's not even very compelling. If one part of your life has to be up in the air, your love life is the area to choose. Especially if it's up in the air but there's no crisis.

I better start working out a lot harder so I have something to complain about.

Whelmed.

The first week of class, and I get surprisingly a lot accomplished each day, if only because there is a mountain of things to accomplish. Today my physical fitness was assessed, and I got a parking pass, and I got my student email turned on, and I bought some books. And I emailed my adviser about meeting, and then I found out I get to go up in a showcase at UP Comedy Club in Chicago tomorrow night. So that's great.

After my fitness assessment (in which it was revealed I am in fair to fit shape) I ran a mile. Which isn't enough if I want to be able to run 10 miles, up and down hills, and through obstacles, by mid April. So I guess I'll have to go back to the gym again and run more.

It'll be good for me, because this week it seems I'm juggling quite a bit, and the only way to juggle is to be really focused on what you're doing RIGHT THIS MOMENT.

I have a problem when I run where I start thinking about when I'm gonna stop running. I'll have the thought "Ok, after two more laps I'll stop." And then those two laps are SOOOOO HARD. The minute I decide that I will stop the laps become terrible. So I have to just not think about when I'm gonna stop, I guess?

That's why treadmills are no good for me, because the constant updates about how long I've been running or how far I've run make me immediately want to stop. And the wanting to stop is what makes running awful. If I could just forget about stopping I could run forever.

Oh, another accomplishment- I'm signed up for health insurance. It has been 3 years since I was last health insured. Pretty good, right?

Tonight after class I'll head to the Village Idiot in Lakewood to say my jokes at an open mic. In preparation for the showcase at UP tomorrow. And in preparation for ATOMIC COMICS NEXT FRIDAY AT THE MAYNE STAGE.

On Wanting the Audience to Hug and Fix You

Power. Power. Power. That's when I do well, when I'm focused on dominating the audience. And when I do well, and dominate those wimpy bottoms, I feel great!

But you know, sometimes, something about being out at a bar late brings out the sad in me.

I have this little nugget of sadness that is always available for feeling, even when my life is going great. My life is really on a high right now. I think I'll just always have that little nugget.

And sometimes that little nugget pops up when I'm about to go on stage. And when that happens I want to sigh and complain about my life and wait for the audience to hug me, and set me up with their sisters, and tell me I'm so special.

Here's the problem: NO ONE GOES TO A COMEDY SHOW TO DO THAT.

That's not a thing you can get from an audience actually. You have to get that from individuals you're halfway intimate with. Audiences want to be passive, they want you to do all the work, they do not want to take care of you at all.

When it comes down to it, standup is not therapy, nor is the audience your girlfriend.

I did two sets tonight. The first one went pretty ok, and I was focused on dominating. The second one I felt a little sad. It was a fun little open mic, mostly just comics messing around, and I got really needy when I went up. I wanted to whine. I wanted to whine about how I'll never find anyone and how crazy I am, which are both lazy things to say, because they aren't true and I know it. It's just me being lazy and needy and inaccurate.

That's what two yuenglings do to me.

I don't need sympathy. I'm just saying it's a lesson. To remember that the relationship with the audience is not one where emotional needs get fulfilled. That's for friends, family, and lovers.

Now, the problem, of course, is that I feel much safer in front of a crowd of people than one on one with a lover. I am scared to death one on one. That feels like about the most unsafe position you could put yourself in. You're gonna tell this person who you want to stick around all your shit? WHEW, that is HARDCORE. I don't know how any of you people do it.

But I mean, that's what I'm in school for, to try to figure that out.

I used to do standup as a replacement for intimate relationships. That was stupid. Because standup is a terrible replacement for those. But it doesn't mean the REAL use of standup- which I think is the thrill of being the only person in the room talking- isn't actually cool. Sometimes you get into something good for stupid reasons.

Now We're In It.

First day of grad school, first day of grad school, finally we're doing it, finally we're doing it!

I'm gonna go down to Akron early and use the gym, make a personal trainer appointment, I'll print out a bunch of stuff, make an appointment with my adviser, buy my books. Shit will be so real.

I kidnapped Michael Ivy last night and made him go to an open mic in Kent with me. Ladies. LADIES. We need to talk about heckling. You may not think you're a heckler. But if you're yelling things at the performer, you are. Standup isn't a conversation. That's a two person act you're trying to get started, and hey that's sort of a retro throwback idea, that's cool, but don't spring it on someone in the middle of their one person act.

Especially if you're a feminist lady, because you gotta believe me I LIKE YOU I WANT TO TALK TO YOU JUST AFTER I'M DONE WITH THESE JOKES I WORKED ON.

And I get it. When I have a couple of drinks in me I also try to turn every standup act into a two way street. I know you may even think you're helping. I know you have only good intentions. But still. Stop.

Often you can just shut down ladies by disagreeing with them. No. No. No. Wrong. What I have to say. Wrong wrong wrong. Me instead.

But feminists- I love you. I don't want to shut you down. Maybe you should just do stand up if you like talking in front of people. That's why I heckle in a conversational manner. I would like that quite a bit, we could be friends, we could go to open mics together, we could bully dudes out of their shitty rape culture material. That would be great! Let's do it!

And then you'll see what I mean about not heckling.

Tickets are selling FAST for Atomic Comics, so now's the time to buy your tickets.

The Inevitable Search-for-Narrative Upon my Hometown Return

I rolled into Cleveland at 3:45 on the Megabus. The Megabus gets off 90 on a morose block of West 25th. There's a gas station, a field, a building for rent, a field. A manufacturer of something, something that needs to be transported away in big white trucks. The Megabus heads toward the market, where things get cheerier, what with the new candy stores and all the many options for where to get a cup of coffee. Then it drops you off near Public Square, with the teenagers and the working ladies with their purses and sneakers, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Guys, I don't know what to say about standup. All of my feelings regarding it are very intense.

I came back to Cleveland and my head was full of stand up. I was repeating the throw away lines that got the big laughs, trying to get the re-enactment down.

Guys, in therapy this fall I mostly talked about stand up.

Guys, this song is how I feel.



Caught in my life this time--
I'll swear off future crimes;
lighten my soul.
I'll give up everything:
the kick, the bite, the scream.
You tame it all.
I want you back to front,
I want you front to back--
I want to feel this again,
just like a heart attack.
I want to make it real,
I want to make it good--
and make it right.

Caught in my life this time,
'cause I'm so hardwired
to be alone.
We wanna know everything,
but you were just kidding--
don't wanna know, and
my blood flows out to it,
my nerves are inside-out,
there's voices in my head--
it's like a barking shout--
but I can't turn it off,
no I can't turn it down
or make it quiet.

I want to know.
I want to know.

If you're gonna be a restless soul,
then you're gonna be so so tired.
If you're gonna keep me up all night,
then you'd better learn to love this fire.
If you're gonna be a restless soul,
then you're gonna be so so tired.
If you're gonna give up on this fight,
then I'm gonna call you a liar.


Guys, how intense must my feelings be if I need to post song lyrics? The most intense feelings of all time ever.

You know how you can have a moment where you feel very alive and powerful, and it's terrifying to have that moment, because you know you're gonna chase it and you can't stop? And you chased it before, and perhaps, in this theoretical circumstance we're creating in your hypothetical life because remember we're talking about you, it broke you?

It's like having coffee with someone you broke up with, and every time you accidentally touch 5 million doors in the future you walked away from fly open.

I cannot believe I feel this intensely about the thing Jeff Foxworthy does.

Mama Grizzly-Snake-Dragon-Fighter Plane.

I auditioned at the open call for the UP comedy club at Second City. Then I went to the open mic at Lotti's. Then I went to Chuc just to hang out and that great big angel named Dan Telfer offered me 5 minutes. I accepted. I had a very good time.

It's not too hard to have a good time when people are giving you hugs because they haven't seen you in awhile. But if I felt I had bombed at any of those events, it would have been a bad time. I'm not gonna front. I did not in any way bomb.

Guys, let's just get real. I DID REALLY WELL. I DID WELL at all three events.

ALSO- I like saying my new material out loud. I like it because I get to yell during it. I like it because I get to yell at various jerks I have known through this material.

And you know I just want to YELL ALL THE TIME. I just. I have a lot of anger. I am an angry person.

So I guess I'll just keep doing material where I get to yell at people. Also then I can yell at the audience, and for some reason audiences really like being dominated. They like it when you order them around and shut them down.

My favorite moment of yesterday was at Chuc when I said I went to OSU for college, and some guy cheered then some guy booed. And I said "I don't care about your football bullshit." And it got a laugh! And that is really how I felt about their various football affiliations, like, I'm trying to TALK ABOUT SHIT up here, keep your idiot dude stuff down. You have every other moment of your day to reveal how you feel about those big money making institutions which don't have any feelings about you rather than enjoying all the money you throw at them. Now you have to listen to me because I have my own feelings and I spent all day turning them into jokes. Shut up.

I don't know, maybe part of the problem the last time I was trying to do standup was I got too into the idea that people thought I was cute. Which was the feedback I got a lot back then, that I was adorable and nervous. And I think I tried to develop that into some kind of adorable nervous character. But.....I'm not adorable and nervous. I'm admirable and not nervous at all. I'm handsome and smarter than most people. You know?

I'm just a self esteem kick because I got laughs for shutting people down.

Ok, but also, these are some thoughts I had yesterday: I feel excited about turning 30 because I think it's time to move into the Mother phase of my life, rather than the Maiden phase. I'm not gonna be a mom in the sense that I'm gonna push a person out of the most sensitive part of my body. But my relationship to the world is changing. Bear with me.

My twenties were a time of just straight up insecurity. I was just so confused the whole time about what I should be doing, and how I should be letting people treat me. And I was very focused on becoming acceptable to at least someone- if not acceptable to my parents, acceptable to audiences and partners and cliques. That didn't turn out well for me at all.

I think that's a Maiden thing. That's like, who am I in this world? What's my role? How should I conform to the world? How can I be what people want me to be?

And once I saw what a terrible place those efforts brought me to, I finally had to trade it for protecting myself. Instead of "How can I be what the world wants?" it was "How can I protect myself from the world? How can I keep from being pulled apart by everyone's different expectations? How can I take care of myself?"

Now, I think that's still a Maiden thing. Figuring out how you can nurture and protect yourself is still a Maiden problem.

So the Mother problems are maybe more "I know how to take care of and nurture myself, now I can take care of and nurture others." It's like, "These are the seeds I'm taking responsibility for. These are the people I'm gonna get to their full potential. How can I do that?"

So I think the Mother phase is in large part about being fierce and scary. Gentle to people who need some gentleness, and a straight up BITCH to anyone trying to hurt the people/institutions/places you've decided you're gonna mother.

Now this is the part where maybe in a couple of years I'll look back and forget I felt this way. But right now I think the people I'm interested in mothering are young women. Like, women in high school and college. Because women are pretty funny and smart and enthusiastic at that age, but also so very confused. And they get put through total bullshit. And the options we give women that age for their identities are not good options. And pretty much no matter what you do as an 18 year old girl, someone thinks you're doing everything wrong- whether you have a kid, or get a job, or go to college- just by being an 18 year old woman people think you're inherently a fuck-up. It's not fair. It hurts women. We need better options and lot more support for women just coming into adulthood.

So who knows if I'll feel this way in 3 months. Who cares. Point is MAIDENHOOD IS COMING TO AN END. THE SCARY ASS MOTHER STAGE IS ON IT'S WAY. HOLLA.

Hear more about this on January 20th at the Mayne Stage.

Just like Old Times, Except Not at All.

I went out to two Chicago open mics tonight. I was extremely nervous. The extremity of my nerves was really something. I went to the Shit Show at Shambles, and waited at the bar for Ever to get there. I was much less nervous when Ever came up and hugged me. She's a comedy angel.

I had forgotten that open mics can have really nice community feelings swirling around them.

After Ever hugged me, but before the show started I was sitting at the bar drinking a bar I really didn't enjoy (Lagunitas, but not the IPA, NEVER MIND) and tapping my foot and just feeling my stomach clench up again and again. And this comic I didn't know came up to me and said some really nice things about having seen my comedy way back when. Guys, another comedy angel. I needed that so bad. I tried to explain to him how good that was to hear. And then I liked his comedy too. It was wonderful.

Then I went to the Globe. Where I ran into Nate Simmons, who is a special person in my personal history because he was at the first ever open mic I went to in Chicago and it was his first time going up. 4 years ago now?

I needed it to be a good night, and I'm so grateful it was.

I'm going to go out tomorrow night, and maybe I will stay here until wednesday to go out wednesday night. Maybe not. I really need this stage time. I get so flustered in very avoidable ways.

I don't know guys, we'll see how this goes, we'll see what unfolds.

Writing Jokes for Fun and Profit.

Would you like to make a gazillion dollars? Do you enjoy adulation from strangers? Do you have precious insights to bestow on the world?

Why not try standup comedy?

Getting rich and receiving all the love the world has to offer is easy and fun!

First, you must write a joke.

Second, you must say the joke out loud into a microphone.

Third, you must pay your personal assistant enough to keep them from leaking your business to the tabloids.

Standup comedy has the added benefit of being a calming, centering activity which will increase your sense of well-being. The practice of standup is often a path away from self destructive activities like over-eating, drinking, and screaming at everyone but yourself for your shitty life.

Since I've decided to get serious about my mental and financial health this new year I'm also going to be doing more standup. Please go here and purchase tickets for the Atomic Comics show at the Mayne Stage in Chicago on January 20th.

Today in preparation for this show I am writing jokes. The jokes are flowing from me like a babbling brook. And in that brook live the fish of inner/ outer peace. Tonight I will go to an "open mic" (open microphone) where these jokes will create community. I will go to bed secure that my actions are meaningful and have immense value.