still in a reggie watts haze. this particular video isn’t very funny, but i watch it CONSTANTLY. the song he constructs is perfection. i can’t begin to wrap my brain around how many amazing improvisational songs he’s released into the ether; i’m so glad somebody captured this one.

“…so she said something about going to the laser show at stone mountain,” he said.

last night i was talking to a friend who recently moved to atlanta and he mentioned the stone mountain laser show. i immediately felt a chill of weird excitement. i grew up in stone mountain, and like any teenager who grew up in stone mountain, i did a summer bid at the park. it was my first job: selling funnel cakes and cotton candy during the nightly laser show. i had that thing memorized. at the end of that summer, i vowed to never see that freakin’ laser show again.

so naturally 20 years later i had the sudden urge to see that freakin’ laser show. oh, nostalgia.

i got a chance to see it in the summer of 2009. during one of the more surreal nights of my life, i found myself on the big lawn in front of that huge slab of granite, once again waiting for the carving of three confederate army heroes on horseback to be outlined by technology, as elvis presley’s “dixie” plays on the sound system. there’s even a picture of this moment, taken by my friend april:

yeah. surreal.

and that’s my GPOY for today.

it’s three in the morning and i’m still trying to process what happened. last night, i opened for reggie watts. it went well. it went very well. at roughly 350 people, it was BY FAR the largest audience i’ve ever performed for. and they laughed. they laughed at goofy premises and punchlines and tags that i’ve thought up in the shower or while walking my dog or while on stage at that minute; their upturned smiling faces illuminated by dimmed lights.

god. the feeling. it’s so hard to explain. i can only hope that you will find a thing that fills you with as much joy and love and confusion and acceptance as comedy does for me.

fuck it. let’s use this okcupid the way it’s meant to be used.

here i am, taking a gentle stroll through sunday morning internet traffic. suddenly i am assaulted with things that reminded me that i’m fat. i don’t even remember making a left turn into the comments section.

my life is an ongoing struggle to ignore my mental picture of myself.

i never think about my appearance when i’m doing comedy, which is part of the reason i love doing it so much. it might also be why pictures & videos of me onstage always bum me out. “oh, shit, THAT’S what i look like? why didn’t anyone stop me?”

i’m working on it though! last night i wore a very low cut shirt to a concert, knowing that i would just be standing in a dark room & nobody would see me. then i remembered that i had to host a show after the concert…and i said, “fuck it; if the audience sees some extreme cleavage they’re gonna be just fine.” i did not think about it again until one of the comics said something from the stage.

my point is….ooh, wait. my pop tarts are ready.

i just found the set list for last night’s open mic in my purse. i moved 19 comics through a show that lasted one hour & 35 minutes. that’s crazy. and i only managed to (knowingly) piss off one guy.

i think i’ve mentioned the stress of this week. what i didn’t mention is that i’ve done a show every night of this week. thursday night i hosted an open mic. i think i should to do some more hosting gigs - my bits have felt stagnant lately and i needed to be forced to work off the cuff. i’m not sure why i’m unsure of freestyling during a set but i can carry on a conversation. my confidence is scattered, that’s for sure.

anyhoo, the hosting! i had a blast! it was so much fun and a little intense. the crowd (mostly there to see the last atlanta performance of some guy) was game for everything - and the comics noticed. in fact, the receptive audience made the comedians turn up their games a few notches. it was a little transcendent at times.

i guess i was riding a high, because i went to a party that another comic was throwing. even that was fun. i haven’t even gotten to the pizza part! (uh, i went to eat pizza with cap’n saucier. that’s the pizza part. late night pizza deserves its own mention.)

every once in a while, there’s a display of comedy and friendship that makes me proud to rep the A. tonight was one of those nights.

there’s a local comic who is convinced that i hate him. whether i do or not is not important; he believes with every fiber of his being that i despise him. i know this because he mentions it every time i encounter him.

“god, you hate me, don’t you? you really can’t stand me.”

“what did i do? why do you hate me so much?”

and so on. he even talks about it when i’m not around, or so i’ve heard from other comics.

“so, do you really hate _____? he told me you fucking hate him?”

a couple of weeks ago, a guy approached me and asked if i would settle a $20 bet. “my friend over there said i wouldn’t be able to get a stranger to give me a hug and a smile. i was hoping maybe you could help me - i’ll buy you a drink!”

i was in a good mood. not sure why, but i was and i didn’t want to question it, so i said to him, “y’know, normally you’d be out twenty bones, but i’m feeling good today so bring it in.” we hugged.

then he pointed out his friend - and it was the comic who thinks i hate him. this bet was his way of proving that either i’m an evil shrew who doesn’t like anybody or i AM capable of being nice, just not to him. i laughed. what a sad, sad man.

i walked up to the comic. “so you bet this guy twenty bucks that i’m a bitch so that you’d have a rationalization for why you think i don’t like you.”

he shrugged. “yeah,” he sheepishly answered. “i did not expect you to hug him.”

“well, pay the man.”

there was a message on my phone. “hey, lady. my headliner just cancelled on me, can you do it for me?” i called him back and immediately accepted.

just like that, i was booked to close out the star bar last night. i could only pray that it would go better than the last time i closed out a show there. that was a certified disaster. i’m still feeling the effects of that night; the guy who runs the show said he wasn’t happy with me because of what he heard i did, but he was willing to talk with me about it.

yet there he was, asking me to jump in, and i quickly agreed. i figured i had squandered my one chance to headline at my home club. but i was ready, i knew better. i wasn’t going to stress out over a set list. i was going to wing it (as much as over-prepared me could wing it, that is.) i mean, as long as the night wasn’t as weird as my first time, i should be golden.

last night was EVEN WEIRDER. barely an audience - and the ones that were there had the blankest stares. there were two people on their way to a national whistling competition in north carolina (yes.); they talked their way onto the show. (the woman whistler did a good version of “boogie woogie bugle boy”, the guy did some convoluted radio-show type story complete with sound effects and a MOUTH HARP because sure he carries a mouth harp on his person - he’s on his way to a whistling competition.) a DRUNK marine stumbled in and started heckling immediately. the comic before me was celebrating his birthday; a cake was given to him halfway through the night by his girlfriend.

it was just weird, yo.

i kept my cool. i didn’t sweat it. and something miraculous happened - suddenly the crowd was (kinda) in the mood to laugh. they remembered they were at a comedy show. they were a bit tired when i hit the stage, but they were still game. i had nothing but a list of possible jokes and a vague sense of what i was going to say, but it turned out okay. there might have been a bit of oversharing on my part, but whatever - i didn’t freak out and run from the stage to my car like the last time, so as far as i’m concerned, success!