I just received this comment on the previous post from a new poster:
“I like Vince Gray, but whenever I see the guy I can’t help but think he sleeps in a coffin at night.”
Ummm… I cannot argue with this statement.
I just received this comment on the previous post from a new poster:
Ummm… I cannot argue with this statement.
So the mayoral race in DC is really tight. The incumbent Adrian Fenty is facing some fierce competition from challenger Vince Gray. So his campaign enlisted some local music artists to help create a viral campaign song/video…
But this video doesn’t make me want to cast a vote for Adrian Fenty as much as it makes me want to find my DeBarge: Greatest Hits CD.
And this Blackstreet CD too:
Oh yeah, and this Tupac record…
Man, forget politics… I vote for some original music. Sheesh.
I was at an Applebees nite before last, and when the man sitting behind me got his check, he asked the server:
Ummm… what? I didn’t even know those still existed. Weren’t they bought out a while back? I couldn’t even hold in the laugh. What’s that in your glass sir? I had assumed it was Coke, but now I’m guessing Tab…? If it weren’t so late and I wasn’t feeling so lazy, I’d add a few more random references I haven’t heard much about since the 80’s. But, well… I am, so feel free to imagine and insert your own (Tang, pagers, IROC-Z’s — just a few ideas to get you started on your brainstorming). And remember the rule of three — just because I’m not writing it doesn’t mean I don’t still want it to be hilarious. Don’t worry so much about this rule of three though. Because that wouldn’t make any sense in this context. Ok, too much.
Struggling over whether or not to extract yourself from a situation you’re extremely invested in, and realizing once you’re gone, that no one even noticed.
Some friends and I ventured out to Marvin last nite for some free fun and the Michael Jackson Birthday Tribute Party.
I know it doesn’t look like I’m having a good time here, but that’s just because my friend Keisha and I like to take photos and pretend she drags me out of the house and forces me to go to parties against my will. Please see Exhibit B from my birthday this year:
Moving on, we didn’t get to the party til about 11:30 pm. — cause I was pressed to watch the (very underwhelming) season finale of Real Housewives of New Jersey and because the Monday old school party at Marvin doesn’t even start til 10. Yes on a Monday. Don’t judge us. I do *this* for a living and Keisha is on vacay this week…
I didn’t get home til after 2 am. And because it was so late, there was no parking on my block so I circled around and ended up having to park a couple blocks from my building. As I was getting out of the car I saw a DCMP squad car coming down the block. The officer driving the car slowed to ask if I was OK getting back to the building and I said sure, thanks to the new ultra bright street lights that were recently installed in my neighborhood. Making small talk while I gathered my stuff out of the back seat, I asked when they were installed since I only noticed after I came home from my last trip. “Vacation?” he asked. No, I travel for work… What kind of work do I do? I’m an entertainer.
Now I’m starting to walk towards my building and the officers are driving slowly next to me.
“My partner is kinda in love with you,” said the driver cop.
And that’s when it started to feel weird… The cop on the passenger side leaned across his partner and started asking questions: What’s my name? (so tempted to say Puddin’ Tain). What kind of entertainer?… I knew they were police officers but I don’t care what your job is, if you’re a man creeping down the block trying to holler at 2am, I don’t need you knowing my name, what I do for a living, and where I live right off the jump. I appreciated their gesture and even if their motivation wasn’t 100% genuine concern for my well-being, I was happy to see them there patrolling the neighborhood. But I picked up my phone pretended to dial and waved goodbye to them as I got to my gate.
The hilarious Leighann Lord said I may have missed out on a “how I met your Daddy” story. And maybe she’s right, but I was super uncomfortable… I swear if they hadn’t been cops, I probably would have called the police.
And now I leave you with the song that was running thru my head the entire time cop #2 was talking across his partner to ask me questions:
This morning I was talking to a good friend who is turning in her letter of resignation today from her cushy corporate job where she travels all over the world, to pursue self employment and follow her dreams. HOORAY FOR THAT!!! She hadn’t presented her letter to her bosses yet and I guess she just wanted to talk it out one last time with someone who had been thru what she was about to go thru. I was flattered that she thought to call me, but at the same time I was thinking, “I am the last person anyone should be calling for advice or consult on how to prepare for leaving your job.” I mean sure I did it. But I certainly didn’t do it the ‘right’ way.
I had plans to do things differently. I put a huge cash down payment into my condo and planned on refinancing and cashing out to give myself a nice cushion when I left my job. But just as I was about to quit, the market crashed. I lost nearly half of the money in my 401-K and the value of my home plummeted. But I knew I couldn’t stand to work my day job one more day so I went on with my plans, got what I could out of the house and prayed real hard. And it’s definitely been a struggle. Some months are great while others are almost completely dry and I often feel like the most irresponsible person in the world. I had all the things I was taught adults were supposed to have — a good job, a home, retirement savings — but I wasn’t happy. So I took a leap and have (Praise God) found a way to make it every month. Sometimes I have to ask for help. Sometimes I have to work temp jobs. And I’ve had to learn to say ‘no’ to lots of things. But the one thing I’ve learned in life that’s carried me through thus far is that there is no such thing as the perfect time.
No perfect time to quit your job. No perfect time to get married and begin a family. No one right way or perfect time to do anything in life. The best you can do is pray to whomever you pray to for guidance, make smart decisions and work hard. As my friend reminded me (and remember I was the one that was supposed to be helping her) in this market and especially after Madoff and the Wall Street collapse, etc. even tons of rich people woke up broke. Either of us could have been blind-sided and laid off with no other skills to fall back on… Thankfully that was not the case.
I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going with this when I started typing and even now I’m still not sure — but what I do know is that if I had never done what I did to pursue a career in comedy I’d be a lot less happy. I wouldn’t know so many awesome people, wouldn’t have been so many awesome places, and I’d probably have resented myself forever. I love my life. Even the hard parts that make me cry.
“It’s just money.” — That’s what my friend, the wise and extremely awesome Erin Foley always tells me. “Do you feel funny? Are you happy? Are you making progress with the act and with bookers? If so, then remember the rest is just money.” Easier said, I know. But it’s so, so true. And since the time for whatever you may wanna do is probably never gonna be right — Why. Not. Now?
Sometimes when I don’t want to talk to people, I pretend to fall asleep. Not drift asleep gradually — I mean fall instantly asleep. It’s a *condition* I have chosen to refer to as situational narcolepsy.
I’ve never met a narcoleptic. I don’t know
much anything about narcolepsy — except that Harriet Tubman suffered from it — but when I fake it, it looks a lot like this chick from Deuce Bigalow:
Most of my SN attacks happen on airplanes — when the person seated next to me has awful breath, or just awful conversation. A few months back I was sitting in between a married couple and when I realized they were together I asked them if they’d rather sit next to each other. “No,” was their response because he preferred the window and she preferred the aisle. Fine. But then they both ordered Bloody Mary’s and proceeded to talk across me to each other with their spicy ass breath, I immediately pulled down my eye mask and zonked out. It took a few minutes but they eventually respected my ‘sleep’ and shut it down.
Praise 8 lb., 6 oz newborn infant Jesus.
My latest bout with SN came yesterday on a flight from Albany GA to Atlanta. I was sitting next to what seemed like a perfectly nice dude. He ordered a Diet Coke. Fantastic. But then there was this:
GUY: So do you live in Atlanta?
ME: No, I’m actually headed home to DC.
GUY: Oh, DC? Wow. I hear they have a crazy AIDS epidemic there.
What do you say to that? I mean really? That’s the first thing that comes to your mind when the nation’s capital is mentioned? My friend Makeda said I should have faked a paper cut or a hang nail and made a big deal out of letting the flight attendant know I needed a band-aid. Hahahahaha. I wish I thought that quick! ;)
Anyway, feel free to adopt this phrase and/or disorder. And let me know how it works for you. ;)
I’m not sure why it still feels so surreal when one of my friends gets married or has a baby… Maybe it’s because I’m in denial about how old I am. ;) Maybe it’s cause despite all we’ve seen and gone thru, I still think of us as those kids growing up in Jersey. Or maybe it’s because those things seem so far off in my life… But whatever the case I had another one of those moments this weekend when I attended the wedding of one of my absolute favorite people on the planet!
This is my friend Daryl and his gorgeous bride Lyla. They had one of the most amazing weddings I’ve ever been to and they partied HARD all nite long!
Nearly all of my closest friends from high school and elementary school were there — in fact we joked that Daryl and Lyla financed our 15th HS reunion and there was no need for us to go since pretty much everyone we cared to see was already there. But as I was looking around the room I realized that just about everybody, save two or three of us was married and/or had kids. A couple of years ago I thought, “Man, they all sure got married up quick.” But now I realize I’m the one that’s slow rolling.
Sometimes (a lot actually) I worry that my lifestyle is making it exponentially harder for me to make moves in that area of my life (How would I even fit a relationship in? I had to bow out of their reception early so I could hit the road back from Jersey to BWI for a 6am flight). But I also sincerely believe that I will have those things if they are meant for me. In the meantime I will be happy knowing that all my married friends are in very happy, healthy relationships. So if I ever find myself venturing down that road, I’ll have some fantastic couples to ping for advice!
Again best of luck to the new Mr. & Mr. Phills as they begin their life together. I love you guys and can’t wait to see what comes next!