Wednesday, July 11, 2012


Today I woke up feeling kind of blah. The weekend was fun. Monday was a rough, long day that ended with a surprise meeting with Snoop Dogg. It was my Jim Morrison and the Indian moment in the desert. I know, I am dating myself, Wayne’s World. Yesterday was quite productive.

Maybe I miss performing live as much as I used to. This time a few years ago, I was on the road constantly. I got to go to the beach about every weekend. But then I would burn my money up, and then I ate a shit load of bad food and got food poisoning a few times. Plus there were the sexist male bookers that I had to deal with as well as the predators on the road and the shitty hotel rooms.

But I loved the adventure.

Then everything happened with the reality show. I never expected to headline most of the clubs in NYC, but just get treated better at the one I did a shitload of work for. In between putting them front and center on how many major TV networks and the production company giving them a nice chunk of change, I never expected them to fire me from the open mic I was hosting as payback. The split left me bitter, and a lot of me is still angry. As a matter of fact, so angry that whenever I am offered a spot at said club I decline. I gave them money and publicity, they aren’t getting any more from me. I was hardly being greedy. They worked me like a dog.

Needless to say, the standup doors didn’t open like I thought they would. They probably would have opened wider if I were an ugly, whiny woman or a freaking man. Probably if I were a man more or less. Still, I didn’t feel like fighting for stage time when I had more TV credits than the washed up (male) headliner who really hasn’t done anything in years. I also didn’t feel like emerging myself in the altena world when I am so hit or miss there. I thought about hitting up bookers for roadwork but I wasn’t technically a headliner.

One promoter who knew me said, “My concentration is big ticket items. You are almost a big ticket item, but not quite.”

That puts me in a difficult netherworld. I am not a headliner but I have more credits than most headliners and am probably funnier than most of my (male) counterparts. At the same time, I am not a big ticket item because while my TV credits are plentiful, they don’t include shows that no one cares about anyway. I am to the point where I am passed the bringer stage as well as the barker stage. Producing my own shows are too much work and I am terrible at it. I am passed the check spot and all that nonsense too. Don’t even get me started on open mics.

What am I going to do when I go? Pay for stage time? Then get up and kill amongst people who have only been doing it a short time? That’s like being an NFL quarterback in a Pee-wee football game. After that they’ll ask me questions about the game and I’ll tell them the bitter truth, they’ll probably develop a drinking problem.

Last night, someone put me on the list in a pool of comic willing to do bringer shows. The producer called me and rattled off the names of the bookers. Half are friends I could call. I don’t know, I don’t care, and I almost asked the guy, “Do you own a TV?”

Then it hits me that I really dont write jokes or material as much as I used to. Oops, I just wrote a damn book. I'm off the hook for sometime. xo

I know there are worse problems that I could have than having a plethora of TV credits and being on a weird rung between the middle and the top. I know there are better things to complain about than having to borrow a friends TV so I can watch myself. Hell, I sound like a spoiled, petulant, child and lack humility. It’s a precarious, pain in my ass problem and I wish there were a freaking, fucking solution.

On the flip side, I know all the asshole haters who bad mouth me on the regular would kill to be in my shoes.

I do miss being onstage as much as I was, but I don’t want to do time unless I am getting paid or unless I like the producer. I miss being on the road but I want to be paid decently and don’t want to eat bad food. I miss being at a bigger club, but I don’t miss being worked like a dog.

I am making arrangements for my book tour and want to do multi-city. I might or might not perform my standup in full.

I don’t know

I don’t know

I don’t know

More to be revealed.



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