The worst part of being a comedian is that when we get down, everyone goes "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Like we're supposed to be up and cheerful all the time. I thought I had disproved that notion over time in this blog, but obviously not very well. So last Friday I was as down as the temperature in Antarctica and I really appreciated all the emails and calls I got, some of which were quite surprising, like one from the hilarious comedian Carrie Snow, who I didn't even know read my blog. She told me to call her because my post didn't sound 'right.' I called her and once satisfied I was going to go on being a blog bitch, she came by the next day and gave me a DVD of her one woman show. I don't even know her, except by reputation, so that was over and above the call of duty. Of course we also trashed every comic we knew so that was even more fun and really convinced her I was on the mend. She offered to dye my eyelashes. I reminded her that I never leave my house. We have put that on the back burner.
This 'sitting around my house all day' shit is really as annoying as anything I've ever gone through in my life. The monotony is unbearable as I have no patience at all. I'm a Type A personality and the worst thing you can do to me is sit me in a chair and tell me to wait. Add some type of repetitive noise, like a dripping faucet, and I will give you all of our National secrets, my computer passwords and my shoes. MY SHOES. If I have to go to a doctor's office and wait I will end up straightening the magazines and offering to water the plants. If it's an especially long wait, I eye the reception desk longingly. Should I mention that I can grab the phones if they're all busy? You know that person at Starbucks, the one who always cleans up the sugar and cream area? That's me. I will take the napkins and wipe down the spills and ask for more Splenda from one of the baristas and then throw all the excess trash away. One day there was a girl who started helping me do it. We just looked at each other in this "Disturbing, isn't it?" kind of way.
Of all my husbands, and I have many, John Cusack (don't listen to Bossy, she's the town whore), George Clooney (don't listen to My Arch Enemy Jenee, she's the other town whore) I think Ryan Gosling is probably my favorite. When he and Rachel McAdams broke up I was happy and No One who has ever seen The Notebook was happy when those two broke up in real life. I saw Lars and the Real Girl this week. I thought it was hilarious but cried all through the last part of it. A story like this could only have happened in a small town with a very kind community so I'm not sure where that place is but I wanted to move there just so I could act out and not get all arrested and shit. For anyone with abandonment or intimacy issues, and I'd ask for a show of hands but all the servers in the world would crash, this movie really stabs you in the heart. I'm pretty sure I laughed at all the wrong places, especially since Vince Vaughn was not in this movie and only he makes me laugh inappropriately.
If you've seen the trailer for Lars, you know about the blow-up doll. I think we should all come equipped with a blow-up doll at birth. And get to kill it when we don't need it anymore. Which made me wonder how long it would take me to kill mine. It might have made it to last Friday. MIGHT have.
End of chat.