Scone Girl

… because our crew has secret ballot scone-baking contests on set. #ExhaleTV

A photo posted by Erin Jackson (@ejthecomic) on

#VanillaBeanButtermilkFTW

I was telling Christine, one of our camera operators and baker of the victorious vanilla bean buttermilk version, that I always try to pronounce scone the way Europeans do — so that it rhymes with “John.” Mainly because it makes me feel fancy in Starbucks, but also because I think the originator (or language of origin) of a thing or a brand is who/what should determine its pronunciation. Like Nike. Or Porsche; the car is named after a real dude. We can’t just decide to change the pronunciation of his name because we want to:

“Well, where I come from, we say it like “Porsh.”

Shut up. No one where you come from has a Porsche. Y’all don’t get a vote. Continue reading →

Compromise vs. Acceptance

I recently came across this quote by Chinua Achebe:

One of the truest tests of integrity is its blunt refusal to be compromised.

And it really spoke to me. I’ve been struggling a lot lately with the direction I want to take my act in — not because I’m uncomfortable with my material or persona, but because my father has a huge problem with it.

I said the word “bitch” on Comedy Central. I think it’s the second bit in the clip below:

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After the show aired my father reamed me for cussing on TV. I told him that you can say “bitch” on the networks. But he wasn’t trying to hear me.

I see comedy nite in and nite out — all kinds of comics with varying styles. And I know that by comedy club/booker standards, I am not a dirty act. I say “bitch” in my act. I occasionally say “shit”. And when I’m referring to this particular incident (which is only of late) I use the “mother” of all cuss words. But only because I’m repeating something I overheard someone else say. And I believe there’s a bigger point to it.

I grew up in a pretty religious household. Nothing fanatical. But my dad was superintendent of the Sunday School and a deacon at our church. So yeahย I was at church every Sunday, but my folksย weren’t strict and I was always a good girl. But I haven’t gone to church on even a semi-regular basis since I left home to come to DC for college.ย I honestly felt awful about it in the beginning — I remember the first Sunday I didn’t go to church I felt like there was this big gaping whole in my world. But that feeling began to fade the more and more I slept in.ย Of course Iย still believe in God. And with all the blessings I’ve received just these last 6 months in both my professional and personal life, I KNOW I need to be back in church.ย I joined one about a year ago and I evenย have a newย bit about myย trip to church this summer. But I’m out of the habit. And nowย after aย late show on Saturday, its way hard for me to get up and go.

All that to say that while I believe in and thank my parents and extended family for the Christian principles upon which I was raised, I am my own person. And I don’t think it makes me a bad person if I say “bitch” on stage. But my dad is worried that all his friends and former colleagues who see me will be offended by what I say and it’ll reflect poorly upon him.

Exhale. Continue reading →