Jennifer Myszkowski

Taste the old El Paso

2009-07-04T19:06:00.009-04:00

A while back, I followed a link Ann and Linda posted to a site that rated the toxicity of personal-care products. You might consider following that link; it's pretty eye opening.

I, being a delicate flower (and on account of my many allergies), am bothered by most fragrances. As such, years ago I gave up on most fragranced products. I use mostly all-natural personal care products, some with botanical oils that give it a smell, perhaps, but none with synthetic fragrances, which, incidentally are not regulated by the FDA and regularly contain known carcinogens. Just saying.

I say mostly because I still used Arrid XX Dry roll-on, and I've never found a fragrance-free version of it. I started using it about 15 years ago when I found that I sweat through every other deodorant I used in short order. A couple hours in and I would smell start smelling like Campbell's chicken noodle soup from a can; by the end of the day it would be full-on taco seasoning packet. It was rough.

Thing is, I'm skeered of the toxicity of the deodorant/anti-perspirants and I'm trying not to die. So I found a non-toxic, fragrance-free Kiss My Face product and have been using that for a few months. It's been great! It's not an anti-perspirant, but it is a deodorant. I generally shower every other day and I found that by the second day, a shower was definitely in order armpit-wise, but it was nothing anyone who wasn't me looking for a bad smell would notice.

And then, last week I was working out in the garden for a while and really working up a sweat and caught a big whiff of something. Whoa! And now since it's been warmer out, I've been cooking up a few Ortega meals under my arms. Yikes!

I've decided I'm going to strike a toxicity balance, I think, by going out and buying another Arrid for use during summertime months only, and recommencing use of the Kiss My Face product in the fall.

I believe the lawyerly types call this mitigating risk. I think this is okay.

Aging gracefully a la chin hair

2009-06-24T17:36:00.006-04:00

I'm turning 34 on Saturday. At the precise moment of my birth, 7:43 p.m., I'll be ushering in my 35th year by enjoying a Prairie Home Companion live from the Koussivetsky Music Shed at Tanglewood in Lenox. PHC is at Tanglewood every year on my birthday weekend, but I'm usually too busy throwing myself a party to go. This year, the party is going to be later in the summer (invitations forthcoming) and I, finding that I had nothing planned for my birthday evening, went and planned something for myself. If you listen to the broadcast, imagine me crying in the audience, because I will surely be crying. Uh oh, I'm getting choked up right now just thinking of it.

You may become jealous when you learn that Martin Sheen and Steve Martin are both on the show Saturday. I'm just saying.

About a year ago or so ago, I noticed that I had a small, black chin hair. I thought it was an errant eyebrow hair, but it didn't brush away. I plucked it instantly. It grew back a few months later. I plucked it again and began a vigilant search for it. Basically, I rub the area of my chin with my thumb in a sweeping motion a couple times a day looking for it. I've been finding it a little more regularly than I was initially, and I'm not all that pleased about it.

About a month ago, I plucked it and it was back in a week. I freaked out a little bit.

One thing about me that I may never have made clear here is that sometimes when I think about shaving my face, I get the anxiety. My great-grandmother shaved with an electric razor every day, and the thought of such a fate fills me with the dread and the full-on anxiety so much so that I have to force myself not to think of it.

The thing is, I realized that it wasn't the same hair. Now I have two chin hairs! Sweet god! The humanity!

On Sunday, I was rubbing my chin, felt a chin hair, moved posthaste to the bathroom mirror, brandished the tweezers and basically stared at my chin. I couldn't see anything. I moved to another mirror and different light. I still couldn't see anything, but damn it if I couldn't feel a wiry little hair. Finally, I trained the tweezers upon it and pulled.

Friends, what I pulled out of my chin was a white chin hair. Oh. My. Fucking. God. It was white. And just a tiny smidgen of the end was black. So my former black chin hair is now white.

This is great, because now it's way harder to see and there's little risk of anyone observing my chin hair with their own eyes. But I'm not sure white chin hair is what I'm ready for at this juncture.

Luckily, I don't have a choice. It's just an extra-special birthday present from my waning hormones to my face.

Awesome!

Jennifer "Jennifer Myszkowski" Myszkowski

2009-06-17T21:11:00.003-04:00

Damien brought this story to my attention, which I'm sure will entertain you.

As a person with a name that has many popular nicknames, I can relate to this lady's frustration. While she takes it a bit too far, I understand her pain.

I have given up trying to insist that people call me Jennifer. What I started doing is referring to myself only as Jennifer Myszkowski. If people try to shorten Jennifer Myszkowski, they will end up with Jennifer. Or JMysz. Both of these are fine things to call me. I have many colleagues who call me JM as well. I like all of these. I just hate Jen - and especially Jenn - as Damien was so kind to point out.

Damien and I met at work a long time ago. I can't remember if the fellow this coming story is about was there when Damien was there, but perhaps our other colleagues may recognize this story (if, indeed, they read this blog).

There was a fellow whose name was Michael. Naturally, people called him Mike. He would reply, "ULL!" Then he'd look up all casual-like, "What?"

It was so annoying that I vowed I'd never, ever reply to Jen with, "IFFER!" I didn't want to be that guy. I just make it my business to make sure everyone around me knows what I prefer to be called. Some even take it upon themselves to politely tell people, "Jennifer prefers to be called Jennifer."

Now if anyone has any ideas about how I can get a lady at work to stop calling me Julie, I'm all ears. One day she came up to me and started telling me how great I looked, what amazing weight loss, etc. I assured her I was not thinner - in fact I was fatter - but thanked her just the same. She said, "But Julie, you look great!"

How do you tell a lady who is layering on the flattery that she just called you the wrong name? I didn't know how. I went directly to my team and told them what happened and asked them what I should have done and they all told me I did the right thing and it would resolve over time. Now we're about six months into the Julie-athon. I thought that after I won the award in my department and cried in front of everyone that it would be done - I mean, my bosslady gave a speech about how great I am and kept calling me Jennifer right in front of her! No dice.

On the bright side, at least she's not calling me Jenn.

Not Amy Ray. The other one.

2009-06-17T19:29:00.004-04:00

This afternoon, I was walking down Main Street in Northampton. There were two girls behind me. I'd say they were about 20. One said, "I can't wait until I'm 21, because by then, I'm going to be so hot. And I'm going go to the Dirty Truth every weekend until he sees me."

"I was trying to think about where I could go in town so I could guarantee that he saw me," she continued, "And, like, I couldn't think of where I could go, then I realized, duh, bars."

And the other girl said, "He'll really be sorry when he sees how hot you are."

By this time, we were at the corner of Main and Pleasant. I was crossing over to King, so I was standing at the curb. I sort of stood sideways so I could get a good look at them. The one who will be so hot when she is 21 was kind of skinny and pale and the other one was sort of fat and pimply. They kept talking about how he was going to be SO surprised to see her and and when he saw her, he would just know and blahblahblah she would show him. Then, a silence fell. Not-21 absentmindedly said, "Blahblahblah the Indigo Girls tonight blahblahblah." She was just reading the Calvin marqee. Fact: the Indigo Girls are at the Calvin tonight.

The other one said, "I saw them on the Today show a few days ago and they were so good."

The not-21-year-old said, "Yeah, I really like them. I think they're, like, as good in person as they are on a CD." And then she went on like a not-21-year-old might go on not paying attention to her surroundings at all.

So here they were prattling on like morons, and they have no idea that Emily Saliers is standing right next to them. She was looking at somebody's dog and talking to a woman who I assume was her lady. She had on dark glasses and whatever, but I'm not even that big a fan and I recognized her from her scraggly hair.

In any event, I ended up going over to the courthouse to sit on a bench because I had time to kill. A while later, I watched her walk by with her lady and go behind the Calvin to the tour bus. I'm so glad she had an opportunity to take in the sights and sounds of Northampton. Particularly those two morons.

The thing is, I couldn't remember her name. It was driving me nuts. Until just now when I googled, "Not Amy Ray" and her name came up third.

Incidentally, I've seen the Indigo Girls twice and they didn't do Gallileo either time, so I gave up.

Also, their fans are a walking stereotype. It's almost painful. The courthouse parking lot was swarming with them. One Suburu had a NH vanity plate: PWROF2. It was no surprise to see the khaki-pantsed ladies getting out of that car.

I say that with love.

But I'll tell you what, I can't wait until I'm 34. God, I'm going to be so hot! And I'm going to roll over in bed and accidentally elbow Scott in the head and he's going to wake up and look at me and just know.

'Heh, what's goin' on here?'

2009-06-04T22:28:00.003-04:00

I had a crazy dream over the weekend. I was walking in my backyard, but it was really the back yard of our house in Connecticut that I lived in until I was 12 (but it was connected to my current house in Holyoke in the fashion that dreams sometimes connect things). I noticed in the next-door neighbor's driveway an R.V. that was shaped like a regular R.V., but had a metal exterior like an Air Stream.

Stamped in the metal was, "Laura Bush," in a font that looked something like the old Ford stamp for the tailgate of trucks. I thought, "Oh my god. Is Laura Bush my new neighbor?"

I was really excited, but confused, because I didn't know my neighbors had put their house up for sale. I was also secretly kind of relieved because they had been a bit of a problem. I went to knock on the door to welcome Laura Bush to the neighborhood. She answered and was a total delight.

I started introducing her around the neighborhood. She was just so charming. We bumped into Rebecca Lisi and it turned out they already knew each other. In the dream, Rebecca lived on our street, and we all went over to her house to work on our campaigns (I was running for charter commission in the dream), making posters, etc. Laura was there helping and just being so friendly.

Then, suddenly, George walked into Rebecca's apartment. He said, "Heh, what's goin' on here?" and then I woke up.

The end.

Can it be three whole weeks since my last post?

2009-05-23T18:13:00.006-04:00

That's it. I'm fired!

Okay, not really.

So much has been going on, most of which is not blog fodder, so I must abstain. But here are a few things that are worth sharing.

First, I did several hours of yard work today and if I didn't know I did it, I wouldn't notice I did it. There are many parts of home ownership that suck. This is one of them.

While I was working on the yard, I applied some sunscreen so I could try to avoid premature death. I bought some sunscreen at the Greenfields Market that is all-natural, so it's not as bad for the environment or anything (because some of them are pretty bad). It was made with zinc oxide, so it made me sort of white and pasty (or should I say, "whiter and pastier"?) than normal. When I was finally done being outside, I went into the shower to return to my normal human state, and I could not wash that stuff off. It took a ton of soap and water and actual, factual scrubbing and carrying on, and the water was still beading up on my skin like I had been freshly waxed. It was like tar.

(Aside: Remember Actual Factual Bear?)

Part of what I did was clean up some leaves that were leftover from fall. I found a whole bunch of them in my brassierre when I took a shower. Awesome!

This week was the best week I've ever had at work, ever. I got nominated by my peers for an important and prestigious award - and then I won it. And all of this happened without anyone spilling the beans to me, so that when they announced it in front of everyone in my division (100 or so people), I was so surprsed that I instantly started weeping and walking around in a daze like Miss America.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: Jennifer always cries. And it's partially true, but I really try to keep the out-loud-and-in-public weeping to the minimalest minimum at work. They don't smile kindly on ladies in career separates getting their weep on in earnest 'round about my corporatey-corporate workplace. But I did it. And it was on a teleconference too! I was pretty embarrassed. But afterwards, everyone was coming up and hugging me and congratulating me and it basically didn't matter at all. In fact, my old bossidy-boss came up to me later to tell me how touched he was that I was so surprised and happy about the award.

My crying brought people together! Even so, I'm going to try not to do that again.

In the bastard plantar fasciitis news, it went away for about a week, then came back again, but I'm confident I can get it to go away again. It's so frustrating. But I've been taking short walks and basically giving it a giant middle finger, so that helps. In a related story, I bought another pair of shoes in an effort to fit my foot and my orthotic into a shoe at the same time. Upon wearing the shoe for one work day, I discovered it doesn't actually fit me. Fucking yeah!

I had a membership to Planet Fitness. A few weeks ago, Scott helped me face the reality that I never go. Not just seldom. Never. So he drove me over there and I cancelled my membership easy-peasy. It was nothing. But I wouldn't have gone over there without his urging. And because he was there, I didn't get caught up in feeling like a loser for quitting the gym. Honestly, I couldn't stand it in there. It was a lowest-common-denominator playground, as far as I could tell. When I was going regularly for a while there, there was a series of nutso people basically parading around me the whole time. This one insane mother in particular screaming at her son for about a thousand hours while I was just trying to exercise for about 30 minutes set me into a bit of, oh, I don't know. If it weren't so goddamned funny, I might have had the panic. When did mothers start screaming at their kids like dogs in public? My mother always had the courtesy to whisper-shout at us through gritted teeth. If you weren't right next to her feeling the anger radiate off her like thermo-nuclear waves and experiencing her death grip sear your arm fat while her growly whisper-shout singed the extra-fine cilia in your inner ear, you might not even know she was angry. (I'm not sure I've adequately thanked her for keeping the public mortification to a minimum.) In any case, the number of people working out in their pajamas was basically stunning. Also, teenagers getting their pose on in earnest. It was madness is all I'm saying.

You might be thinking, "Jennifer, the common denominator in all this is you." And indeed you may be right. But no self-respecting establishment purporting to be a health and fitness gymnasium should have a weekly all-you-can-eat pizza night. Just sayin'.

This morning, my mother called my very popular radio program to put on Grandpa No-legs's Bass Boat. It was sold within a very short time, which gratified me to no end. In any event, there was a glorious moment while we were on the air when I asked my mother what the boat was made of, aluminum or fiberglass. She approximately replied, "Whatever Bass Boats are made of." I approximately said, "They can be made of either." I only know this because of the show that I host. We talk about these things. She approximately said, "People who know Bass Boats know what they're made of," like she was some kind of person who knew Bass Boats, which she couldn't be because she didn't know what it was made of. I approximately said, "Yes, of course, ma, either aluminum or fiberglass." I added "approximately" in there because I didn't record it. I only wish I had so I could get those quotes exactly and so I could listen to it in perpetuity and laugh and laugh. We raised the curtain on our relationship to the listening public. When it was over, my bossman at the station popped into the studio and said, "You've gotta have your mother call in more often." I said, "I wasn't sure if that was funny to outside people or not." He said, "Oh, it was."

It is a radio program on public air waves, so my mother can certainly call in whenever she wishes to do so.

I think we're all caught up now.

The Pride Day highlights reel

2009-05-02T17:42:00.002-04:00

I didn't realize it was Pride Day today. I was on my way to the farmer's market to procure for our little patch of land a few more herb plants. I remarked to myself, "What's the deal with all these people." Then it slowly dawned on me that it was the first weekend in May, and all these people I'm seeing are gay-gay-gay and that means only one thing: Pride Day. So I decided to stroll around and look for my friends.

One thing that really fills me with untold amounts of joy is seeing my friends by accident. I would find a friend, turn away from them and immediately find another. It was glorious! I was living the dream.

Sure, there were accidental tears. It happens. I'm me after all. And there was a moment when I realized I didn't want to talk to a person just a split second after I shouted the person's name. But other than those small bumps in the road, I had a lovely time.

There were drag queens and men in dresses (and men in dresses who thought they were drag queens). There were friends, there were strangers, there was the person dancing like no one was watching (like the lady from the Green River Festival, only not very graceful). I saw our friend performing in a band. I saw a few people from my day job, which is always refreshing (I mean this without irony, because it truly is refreshing to see your work friends without their robotic career separates). I saw a few neighbors. I saw a few people I recognized from back in the day, but I have no idea where I know them from, or what their names were, so I couldn't even say hello.

I find it comforting to be able to go out and see friends and people that are familiar to me. It makes me feel like I'm in exactly the right place, surrounded by all the people I want to be surrounded by.

I really love Pride Day.

Oh glorious comedy

2009-04-22T21:55:00.004-04:00

Last Friday night, I had a show in Lexington, then I went over to the Comedy Studio to hang around my friends and watch the network television debut of our friend and comedy colleague, Joe Wong.

I've been working with Joe for a few years now, doing shows hither and yon. I was so excited to learn that he made it on to Letterman. I was really tired last Friday night, and I knew I had to work early Saturday, but I really felt strongly that I wanted to be with my friends to watch Joe on the TeeVee. Did I ever make the right choice. I wish everyone could have been in the second-floor bar at the Hong Kong to watch it with us.

If you missed it, you can check it on the YouTube (I embedded it, but it fouled up the margins of this page, alas. You'll have to click).

The Hong Kong folks turned down the music and we all gathered around the TeeVees to watch. The love and electricity in the room were palpable forces. Just watch his set. He had to pause for laughter and applause after every joke. I think we were all feeling it like it was us. It was so powerful. I felt so honored to be there and grateful be a part of this magical night and the whole incredible Boston comedy scene.

We're all trying like hell to make it. I was afraid I'd feel a little bit jealous, that we all might. But I totally didn't. For that perfect moment we watched our friend on stage and we were all so proud. When he was done, the men were shouting, the women were crying (or just I was crying) and everyone was hugging. I think it was the most incredible night of comedy I've ever been party to.

Craigslist Killer

2009-04-22T21:36:00.003-04:00

I hate that this happens to me, but I am just like everyone else in America and I get fascinated by news stories. I've been drawn in by this Craigslist Killer story for a number of reasons.

One of them is that this guy and his lady have been together for four years and were planning a summer wedding. I can't imagine the horror of discovering the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, who you thought couldn't hurt a fly, was secretly a giant moron at serial killing.

Seriously, this guy thinks he's smart enough to be a doctor/serial killer and he doesn't realize that phone records and IP addresses would lead investigators directly to his sorry ass? He may as well have left directions to his apartment with the victims. Give me a fucking break! This guy is supposed to be the best and the brightest? Bah!

Also, the part where he totally snowed his lady gives me the terrors, particularly the part where she's defending him and saying he couldn't hurt a fly while investigators are pulling his victims' underpants out of their apartment. The least he could do is give her some kind of sign so that she doesn't go on Good Morning America and become the pathetic fiancee of the Craigslist Killer.

Also, there's the part where Scott and I met on Craigslist on that fateful day nearly three years ago. I said to him yesterday, "Listen, brother, if you turn out to be a murderer, can you at least do me the favor of telling me so I don't make a total fucking ass of myself on television defending you."

He said, "Don't worry. I will only kill people that I don't meet on Craigslist."

What a sweet relief.

I think this might make it to the stage this weekend.

Saturday night show (please come!)

2009-04-09T17:32:00.005-04:00

I so seldom have a show locally to which I can invite you, but I've got one and it's going to be good.

Saturday night I will be at the Basement in Northampton. The cover is only $5, I think, which is awesome because you'll get 15 or so minutes of me, plus 15 or so minutes of my friend Myq Kaplan. Myq is just about the funniest person and best performer I know from my travels to Boston. He's just plain dynamite. So even if you're tired of my jokes (please be advised that I have lots of new ones mixed in with my old ones), you will not regret taking in this show. I promise you that. It starts at 8 p.m.

In unrelated news, I fucked up my back last night while I was putting on my pajamas. Don't ask me how putting on comfortable clothes could fuck up a back because I have no idea. All I know is that I'm basically decrepit today - like an old lady! I had to miss work and see the chiropractor and do stretches and lie on heating pads and take frequent short walks all day. I'm feeling mostly better this minute, but sitting up is a strain so I must away.

See you Saturday maybe? I'll be fine by then, I bet, so no worries.

Audition in review

2009-04-06T01:37:00.000-04:00

Tonight I had an audition for a big comedy festival and now I remember very keenly why I stopped doing these kinds of things a number of years ago.

The person I auditioned for is also a scout for a network late-night television show. There were 14 of us auditioning tonight. Everyone totally rocked. I was so pleased with my performance. I felt strong and really there.

After the show was over, I went to gladhand the man I auditioned for. He told me that he thinks my comedy is too much here (pointing to head) and not enough here (pointing to stomach). Too much poise and not enough gut, he said. I need to bring more of myself to the stage. I'm funny, he said, and he thinks he'll be seeing more of me, just not right now.

I asked him if he had specific advice about what I can do to improve. He said I just have to keep working. And he kept saying that I have to bring more of myself to the stage.

I am open to constructive criticism. I really and truly am. But I wasn't prepared to be told that I wasn't bringing myself to the stage because I feel that I am all I bring to the stage. In fact, I was once challenged by someone to bring less of myself to the stage and to be funny without being personal and I couldn't. I don't know how to do that. Whatever.

So afterwards, everyone went down to the second floor to chat and hang around, but I found I was unable to stay. I tried, but I ended up crying in front of a couple people, which was embarrassing since everyone else seemed like they were totally fine.

I pulled myself together and went to talk to Rick, told him what I had been told, etc., and he said, "I love you. You're great. I believe in you." So I had to cry and rush out. Which was lame, but I really preferred to cry in the relative privacy of my car and not in a bar where there was karaoke and general barroom insanity.

So I did. And then we hit the road.

Of course, now it's a few hours later and I've got a little distance and I know that one guy doesn't get to decide that I don't bring myself to the stage. I think he's full of it. And I have to remember how happy I was with my set after it was over. I realy felt good about it. Also I'm happy I have some shows coming up so that I don't have an opportunity to feel mopey and sad about it. I just have to get back on the horse.

And I also think I have to do more of these types of auditions so that the rejection doesn't feel so personal. I don't know how to make it feel less personal since I lay my personal life right out there on the stage. I guess I'm just going to have to learn.

How you know you're at an open mic where you maybe don't belong (but you actually do!)

2009-04-02T22:31:00.005-04:00

I've got a kind of important audition this weekend. I don't want to say much more about it here. In any case, I'm trying to get ready like nobody's business.

I went to an open mic tonight that will remain nameless and location-less so as to protect the identity of the innocent.

It was primarily a music open mic, the kind I swore off years ago. And if I weren't desperate for stage time to prepare for this weekend, please be assured that I wouldn't be there. Nosiree.

The host opened up the show by saying (I hope this doesn't give too much away) that she got tickets to see Dar Williams for Christmas one year from her husband, but then she had her baby the week before the show, and because she couldn't go to a concert with a one-week-old baby, she stayed home. "This is a song about a concert I didn't go to."

Scott and I looked at each other and we knew we were both thinking the same thing. And I said to him, "You should know that I know how much you love me. You show me because you are here with me right now."

I think that's how you know that you're with exactly the right person, the person you were meant to be with. If I believed in predestination (which I kind of do a little bit), I would believe (and I kind of do) that I had lived my entire life up until this point just so I could sit in a coffee shop, pay $3.25 for a small cup of babaganoush and listen to a lady sing a song about a concert she didn't go to - just so I could live in the perfect moment of Scott and me looking into each other's eyes and not having to say a single word before we stifled laughter. This is the stuff of life!

I ended up doing the whole set that I planned for my audition. I came in 30 seconds short of the maximum amount of time I can use in the audition, which is perfect because I felt like I was rushing a little bit. I can relax a little. And people laughed even though it was a music open mic. I'm feeling really good about my set and just excited to be taking this next step with the comedy. I haven't done any kind of audition since 2001, if you want to know the truth. I should have been doing auditions all along, but I haven't been doing them. I'm not sure what's stopped me. Fear, probably. But not any more.

I actually ended up having a great time at the open mic tonight, and I met a lot of nice new people, many of whom I may well see again because - get this! - I think I might go back. I surprised myself by how much fun I had even though so many people totally sucked (and I mean this in the most supportive way possible, because I'm pretty sure I sucked when I first started out too). But I won't make Scott come with me. Unless, of course, he wants to come.

I said to him, when we're old ladies and men, we will look back on this night and laugh. I will be in my rocking chair and I'll say, "Gosh, I would love to listen to a song about a concert someone didn't go to." And then we would laugh.

Scott said, "Okay, but you might have to remind me of this story so that I remember to laugh."

Do I ever love that guy!

I need stage time

2009-03-19T22:54:00.003-04:00

I need quality stage time within the next two weeks - or even non-quality stage time. I need as much of it as I can get. Do you know anyplace I could snag seven minutes of stage time? Do you run an open mic - even a crappy one? Ideally, because I have to balance my job and what have you, I would like the stage time to be within and hour-ish of Holyoke, where I live. If you have any ideas, please e-mail me.

Did you know that I love you?

Love,
-Jennifer Myszkowski

Please watch this hilarious video from SNL

2009-03-15T16:58:00.000-04:00

Here, take this barf bag

2009-03-14T23:25:00.004-04:00

Scott went to a party tonight without me. I could have gone; I opted not to. I was just feeling tired and not in the mood. I'm a human.

The party was in Cambridge. That means that Scott is driving alone. Fine. I guess.

It's funny, I never got this nervous or worried about anyone driving anywhere before I met Scott. I just don't want to lose him. I can't imagine my life without him in it. The idea that he is hurtling down a highway alone makes me worry.

When his parents were moving, he was delivering some stuff from his parents in NY to his sister in VT and was driving around quite a bit for a few days. I basically had to take to the bed I was so out of my mind. Right now, I'm just in a mild state of worry. It's not even worry so much as a strong desire for him to be home already.

Okay, maybe saying I never got this worried before meeting him is a slight exaggeration. One time a long time ago - I think I might have been in college - I was dropping my parents off at the airport because they were going to Florida to visit my grandparents. I became convinced that they were going to die on a plane. I cried in the car all the way back home. Then when it was time for their return trip, I cried about it in a booth at Bickford's of all places (it is breakfast anytime, after all) and an old lady turned around in her booth to tell me that I shouldn't worry and that it is all in God's hands.

She said God like Gaud. Like the vowel sound in gauze. In case you want to imagine it. I should mention that I was wearing pajama pants in public at the time. I went through a bit of a phase with that.

I guess what this is proving is that I sometimes get worried. And my state of worry about Scott driving home is no where near crying out loud in a Bickford's. That said, I will be hella relieved when he gets his honkey ass home.

I will now turn my eyes upon the TeeVee to distract myself with the SNL.

What's new in the neighborhood?

2009-03-11T17:22:00.004-04:00

Well, we bought a car. For the last year and a half, we've been driving a free car from Scott's parents, but the lease will be up on it soon and we needed to make a move. So we made one. There's a shiny, used 2004 Hyundai Accent taking up space in our driveway now. I'm a little bit not excited about it because it's nothing like the lap of luxury we've been sitting in for the last year and a half, but it's a much smarter car for us: small, low miles, excellent mileage, etc. And yet, I admit I will miss having heated seats.

Scott hates heated seats so he will be unaffected by this one part of our new car. He says sitting in a heated seat is like sitting in a seat that's been pre-farted. I can see his point, certainly; I just don't agree.

In case you'd like to stalk us, our new car is light blue.

With the snow melting, we're finding all the dog turds that one of our asshole neighbors has been letting his dog leave in our tree belt and on our sidewalk. Give me a break! We think we know who it is, but we haven't seen any deuce-dropping in action. If we don't catch them in the act and keep a photographic record, the police can't do anything about it. We only know this because our neighbor called the cops about it when they were hitting her yard.

All we can say for certain from looking at the specimen is that it's a small dog. I think I'd just like to have a casual talk with the owner about dog turds and see if we couldn't come up with some sort of amicable resolution without involving the cops. I mean, the Holyoke police have bigger fish to fry than some stupid dog owner letting his dog lay cable in our yard.

That said, I found this customizable sign that I want to get and post on our fence. They print the message for you. I want it to say, "Please pick up your dog's turds." Do you think it might help, or do you think that it will make people throw dog shit over the fence and into our yard? I think it might help because it will show that we have a sense of humor. But they might laugh all the way home to get their catapault and then they might start launching. I'm a little bit sceered.

I also want to get a sign about litter. We're on a corner lot and the cross street is a major pass-through for teenagers and winos. I don't think we can stop the drunks from dropping the nip bottles, but I think we can stop the teenagers from dropping their gum and candy wrappers. Maybe I'm too optimistic. Scott goes out at least once a week and picks up all the trash on both sides of the street in our area. He can't stop giving.

Last summer, someone bought a box of drumsticks (you know, the ice creamy treat), ate them all, put the wrappers into the box and then threw the box over our fence. Talk about infuriating. If I knew who did it, I could probably have set fire to them with just my gaze. Hell, I was mad.

I think the main culprits in our war on litter might be the kids directly next door. I caught one littering over the summer - he threw a brownie wrapper and an ice cream pint right into our driveway - but faked I didn't know he was the litterer. I asked him if he saw anyone throwing trash into our yard. He said no. I asked him if I could count on him to help me keep the area litter free. He said I could. And we haven't had any actual litter in our driveway since, except for the kind that blows into the yard from someplace else.

I'm making it sound like we live in a trash heap. We don't.

Hey, remember Madame Trash Heap from Fraggle Rock?

I have an entire program of flowers and plants planned for the outside and inside of the fence though, to make it look less like a fortress and more like a friendly home. Maybe that will help.

Tonight's show

2009-02-22T01:32:00.003-05:00

One of the comics I worked with tonight did street jokes for much of his set, which is, like, totally lame in stand-up comedy world. There is no circumstance under which street jokes are an acceptable way to fill your time on stage. It was shocking. This guy was getting paid! Probably more than I was!

The other comic on the show is one of my favorite-favorites, so I had some good laughs. I really love the comedy.

I was on the way home from the show listening to Kimya Dawson's album Hidden Vagenda, which I heartily recommend, when one of the lyrics prompted me to think of another new tagline for the No-legs joke. I'll save it for when you come to a show because it's basically going to make you hate me, but it's dynamite. I called Scott and told him about it, and he laughed until he coughed, which isn't saying much, necessarily, since he's still getting over a terrible sickness*, but it counts.

I had some serious hecklers tonight. I burned one pretty bad early on, which I thought would shut them the fuck up, but it seemed only to fuel their fires. It was tricky, but all I could really do each time is go along with them for a minute and then shut them down. Over and over. It was almost as though they were trying to derail me. I would not be derailed, however. They did cause a few digressions, but no true derailment.

*Our Facebook friends may already know about the terrible sickness and what it rained upon our household. Thank goodness for bleach cleaner. That's all I'll say.

Home again, home again, jiggity-jig

2009-02-09T19:00:00.004-05:00

So much has happened that I haven't had a chance to report on. One of them is that I had my annual whole-nine-yards exam the day after Christmas. I guess Grandpa dying the same day sort of eclipsed news of my pink and healthy cervix.

I learned that day that I'm fatter than I've ever been. It's so exciting! I was wondering where I could possibly be putting this fat since my pants mostly still fit me.

In watching the videos from my month-long stint at The Comedy Studio, I've discovered where I put it. Formerly referred to as "my second stomach", I'm now referring to the stomach area above my pants as "my stomach thunder." Jesus H. Christ. I'm about thisclose to being the headless fat person on the news story about American obesity. If you see my torso lumbering down Main Street, Anytown, USA, please call me and tell me you still love me. I will need your support more than ever.

I'm just relieved that I haven't developed I'm-in-front thighs. That would be a real nightmare.

Exactly 10 years ago, I was in the first few months of the Weight Watchers program that ultimately resulted in my Almost-Nervous Breakdown of 1999 to 2000. I lost 80 pounds on Weight Watchers, which you likely know from my comedy. On the day after Christmas, I was exactly 100 pounds heavier than I was at my lightest (and out-of-my-goddamned-mindest) on Weight Watchers.

I have talked a considerable amount with my certified and licensed professional about my weight and eating issues. I'm really afraid of losing weight and going nuts again. I cannot begin to describe how awful being skinny and insane and hungry all the time was. I'm getting choked up just thinking about that awful time.

One thing my certified and licensed professional has reminded me is that I'm not the same person that I was then and that it would be different this time. Even the parts of me that want to believe it don't believe it, though.

I'm just trying to figure out what I'm going to do next. One thing is certain: I have to do something. I'm not interested in dropping dead from fatness or in losing my mind from not eating. There's got to be a middle ground that doesn't hurt me. I just have to find it.

How you know your friends love you

2009-01-24T01:39:00.003-05:00

My ladies came out last weekend to Cambridge and we had weekend Lady Dinner at a restaurant in Porter Square. Then everyone came to my comedy show. Isn't that awesome!

My pal Jennifer Adams blogged about it here.

The previous weekend Trevor and Nancy came out to see me. A different day last week, Trevor's son Jason and his lady came out as well.

It feels so nice to be surrounded by the love of my friends during this crazy month.

If you want to come out for a show, please consider ordering your tickets in advance at The Comedy Studio Web site. Shows sell out quickly there. It's a small room, and if you arrive just a minute after the show sells out, you're out of luck - unless you buy in advance! Don't drive all the way to Cambridge to be turned away at the door.

Video from Jan. 10

2009-01-22T16:14:00.002-05:00

Jokes about Scott, the economy and Grandpa with the new extra tagline.

Fame and fortune, fame and fortune: they will be ours someday!

2009-01-22T15:19:00.002-05:00

Lookee here.

In the print version (available wherever free newspapers are given away in eastern Massachusetts), they turned the photo of my head into a line drawing that makes me look kind of weird. Who cares! It's free publicity.

Sara Faith Alterman is a big fan of comedy. She was the responsible party back when that little clip of me telling jokes was featured in that larger video about the Studio. I was excited to do the interview. I didn't turn out as funny as I would have liked, but I'm just a human.

Incidentally, I think Shigella is only funny to me and other people who grew up in Springfield. Remember when the Shigella outbreak swept through all the schools? Some people nearly died. Not me or anyone I knew, luckily. The funny part about it is that there were signs all over Springfield Central, my alma mater, about proper hand washing procedures.

My favorite was a crappy drawing of a clown with enormous hands and a stupid smile that said, "Wash your hands so you don't get sick!" I'd almost be willing to pay money to lay eyes upon that clown sign again. Almost. I wish I had had the good sense to rip one down as a memento. Who knew I would be nostalgic for it nigh on these years later?

Shigella causes Shigellosis. Back in the day, we used to make jokes about shigellosis all the time - oh, and we would laugh. I guess it's no laughing matter, what with people nearly dying. But it's still funny to me.

I did the same set three nights in a row

2009-01-11T16:15:00.003-05:00

I did the same set three nights in a row and tried to make it more succinct each time. I started with stuff about Scott, did my grandfather jokes in the middle with my jokes about being a fattie at the end. I always end with those jokes, but I'm not sure about whether that's a crutch or not. I think it's a valuable summation, but I think this coming week I'm going to work on ending on different jokes and seeing how it goes. I'll upload another clip or two this week.

I've been focusing on not backing off jokes and just letting them sit out there, moving on without addressing the silence, and it's uncomfortable, but I think it makes the set better and tighter. And I think that's the point.

Saturday night's set

2009-01-09T15:58:00.002-05:00

It looks a little stretched out. If anyone knows how to fix that, e-mail me. I'm kind of proud of myself for figuring out this YouTube thing myself. I feel like the smartest girl here, except for the part where about a billion other people have also navigated the YouTube upload function successfully.

Comic-in-residence: Day five

2009-01-09T01:10:00.002-05:00

Day five: Thursday, January 8, 2008

Tonight's show was hosted by Zach Sherwin, a.k.a. MC Mr. Napkins, who is an excellent comic rapper. This sounds like it wouldn't be funny, but he's hilarious. Please visit his MySpace page and listen to his track about sphygmomanometers. It will change your mind. (Note: If you listen at work, you maybe want to put on your headphones since he drops a big MF right in the middle.)

I paid special attention tonight to not backing off jokes when they don't get any response from people and I didn't back off any jokes that I'm aware of, I just barrelled ahead.

I have to give mad props to my pal Nancy, who in a condolence note said something about No-legs having had a good run and I thought, "Can I use this?" And it turns out I can! So I added a tag to the joke, where I say, "He was 88 when he died. He had a long run." I tried it tonight and there was dead silence, so I just stood there and waited and it washed over the audience like a warm bath. There are a number of parts to that joke that I will never be able to tell again what with them being very rude parts, but I am really happy that I'm able to salvage some of it and write new parts.

When Zach got back up after my set, he said that he hadn't heard about No-legs and said something along the lines of, "Gosh, I've been hearing about your grandfather for so long, I almost feel like he was someone in my extended family."

I guess he kind of was, since we're all members of each other's extended families.

I was watching the video of me telling some of my nerd jokes about Scott and I noticed I got a better reaction in one set when I described my own nerdy behavior first before I started making fun of Scott's. So I tried the jokes again tonight and included the critique of my own behavior first and I think it turned out pretty great. I'll get the video at the end of the week and watch it early next week to decide for certain.

I'm really enjoying the part where I'm having a chance to actually make friendly-friends with so many comics I've been just passing in the night for so long. I think half of glory and fun of the comedy is all the great friends I've made so far. I'm on my way to making even more.

I really love the comedy.

Comic-in-residence: Day four

2009-01-08T14:27:00.003-05:00

Day four: Wednesday, January 7, 2008

It was Scott's big 4-0, so I was planning to do my Scott jokes, Husqvarna and all the rest. My economic stimulus package joke is a real crowd favorite, and it's partially about him, so I planned to do that as well. I wrote a few new jokes about career separates. I keep getting mixed results with those jokes, so I've been tweaking them and tweaking them.

If you've been to a Studio show more than once, you may have noticed a pattern, which is that the music directly before the show is the same every time. Rick starts playing a mix of popular tunes as soon as the doors open, but then right before the show, he plays Edwin Starr's "War" and then the beginning strains of "Dirty Water" and then the show is on.

Last night, halfway through "War", Rick Jenkins comes up to me all casual and friendly-like and asks, "Hey, you wanna host tonight?"

He's a sly debbil, that Rick Jenkins. He surely knew he was going to ask me to host long before he actually asked me, but he asked me to host about one minute before I was going to have to host. I think it was a test.

And I think I passed. I ended up doing most of my current strongest jokes, sprinkled in a few new ones, and overall had a great time. I think one of my biggest anxieties while I was actually in the middle of it is that I had to introduce people I didn't know, and I couldn't figure out who they were to talk with them before actually introducing them. It worked out okay, though. I don't think I mangled any names or gave anyone too crappy an intro.

We hung out at the bar on the first floor after the show was over and talked to Rick and the gang. It seems Rick's biggest criticism of my style is that I back off my jokes when it seems the audience isn't responding. He reminded me that sometimes an audience is amused but not laughing and when I start backing off it confuses them because they didn't notice that anything was the matter. He said that when you're doing a big show and 100 people say, "Ha!" it sounds much louder than a smaller show and 12 people saying "Ha!", but the 12 people aren't enjoying the joke any less.

Good point. I knew this month-long project would turn me into a better comic just by virtue of getting up and performing every single night. I think Rick's criticism, however, may be even more valuable. I hope I can break myself of the backing-off habit.

More later.