I BELIEVE....If you chose the service industry and you don't want to serve ALL people then you need to GET THE FUCK OUT and do something else. I truly don't understand what has happened to us as a society when business owners are taking a stand that they won't serve select people.
I BELIEVE that most nights I'm on stage the room is filled with people from all walks of life, religions, belief systems...and yet we laugh together because the common thread of humanity connect us all.
I BELIEVE that God, HaShem, Allah, Hari, Buddha or whatever you call your deity, is disappointed that we HATE our fellow man and could CARE LESS that my son is gay. As my son so beautifully put it, "It's hatred disguised as religious freedom. It's bigotry. We were supposed to learn from our history and yet we're repeating it's ugliness"
I BELIEVE that love is rare and beautiful whether it's two middle-aged comedians that feel blessed to have found each other, a young Christian couple starting their life and believing that God has a plan for them, or the two women that live next door to me that struggled for years to have their first baby and are overjoyed at the miracle that has blessed their life. LOVE EACH OTHER. The message is simple. Just LOVE.
I BELIEVE that supporting hate and separation will destroy our society. If all the energy and money that have been put into this HATE movement were put into something good....Feeding hungry children, helping abused women, fighting cancer....We could change the world. There are horrific things in this world that we should hate...but two men Loving each other isn't one of them.
I BELIEVE that tears should be shed over this. That we should be shocked and saddened that this debate could possibly happen in 2015. I don't hate Christian business owners for refusing to serve gays....I'm heart broken and horrified. Why is it so hard for us to come together as a people? After 911 no one saw race, religion, sex, gay, straight...we just saw our fellow man, hurting, and we reached out an embraced each other. How quickly we forget.
I BELIEVE that finding ways to justify separation is dangerous and that it is our responsibility to stand up and say NO MORE. Today it is THEM. Tomorrow it could be YOU. Powerfully put by Martin Niemoller...
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
SPEAK, speak up, speak loudly...because if we don't find a way to come together we will destroy each other.
There’s a man in our building that babysits his grandson. The child is 3 or 4 with black hair and big dark eyes. Most of the time his mother is picking him up, but this week, as Dale & I were walking the dogs, his father pulled up in front of the building and stood on the sidewalk waiting. We watched that child walk out the front door of the building hand in hand with his grandfather, turn on the sidewalk and lay eyes on this man at which point he squealed, DADDY and went running, arms spread, smile on his face, eyes bright....It was beautiful to watch. It was one of those moments that makes being a parent worth all the sleepless nights, all the heart ache, all the sacrifice. It was a moment my sweet husband will never know. It was a moment that broke my heart.
Just in case you haven’t been following the “Making Baby Jones” journey, I’ll catch you up. It’s been a year and a half since we had my tubes untied. Many cycles, many tears and $15,000 later, we’re no further along than when we started. Honestly, the heart break is just too much to keep trying. And while there’s nothing more I want for Dale than to know what it’s like for little eyes to look up at him and smile, I just don’t have it in me to keep trying.
This week as we reflected back on the past year and a half, Dale assured me he was ok. All he ever wanted was me. And if that’s all he ever had, he’s fine with it. He told me that it says a LOT about our relationship that we survived the last year of heart ache and heart break, stronger and more in love than ever. And, I told him that it said more about HIM than me. He asked, “Why?” Why would I say that?
Any woman that has ever taken Clomid already knows the answer to that question. They lovingly refer to it as Clomid Crazies, which I thought was just a funny name until I took it. Oh My God. My very first month on the fertility drug
I LOST MY DAMN MIND. I seriously thought I was losing it, but my patient husband stood by and held me when I unravelled, held his tongue as I screamed at him, held me as I cried. If I were him I would have PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE. There’s much to be said about men that love their wives through fertility drugs.
In the past year and a half Dale has spent days in bed with me when I couldn’t get out because I just couldn’t stop crying....He stood by me while I took hundreds of ovulations tests and almost as many pregnancy tests....He helped me track my temperature every morning and chart it and figure out ovulation and did his best to perform on demand....and he stood there in the shower with me in Myrtle Beach when we found out the IUI procedure didn’t work, when I laid under the water and cried uncontrollably...unable to stop, unable to breath, with no motivation to get up and try again...No motivation to face tomorrow.
A year and a half ago I truly believed that if we untied my tubes we would in fact get pregnant. I believe with all my heart that one day we would hold our child....that Dale would finally know what it was like to have a son or daughter of his own. It never occured to me that it wouldn’t work. Of course, I said to people that I didn’t know if it would happen or not, but deep down I TRULY BELIEVED it would. And now, as I face the end of our journey, it breaks my heart to know that I failed. It breaks my heart to know that it’s time to let go and move on.
While I’m sad and trying to heal my broken heart there are a few thing I know. My husband is an amazing man. He is patient. He is kind. He will never truly know what he missed and for that I am thankful.
There are more women struggling with infertility than I realized. Through our journey I’ve learned that MILLIONS of women suffer from infertility and due to high costs of procedures there are many many women that will never know what it is to be a mother. I won’t forget you and I will find a way to bring light to your struggle.
While what I wanted so much didn’t happen, I wouldn’t trade the last year for anything in the world. Garth Brooks said it so perfectly....
And now, I’m glad I didn’t know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives, are better off to chance. I could have missed the
pain, but then I’d of had to miss....The... Dance.
I sit here on the couch uneasy, unsettled, unable to just sink into the cushions and relax. It’s not just me. We both feel the same way. A good movie, an afternoon nap, nothing feels quite right. It’s not that there’s anything wrong. Maybe the opposite. Life is pretty damn good. But just a few miles from our apartment movies are being filmed, sitcoms are being cast, careers are being “made”. And we sit. We’d need to recoup from the road but there’s always the nagging voice in the back of our heads saying GO, DO, NOW.
I know that moving to LA was a big step. A big scary step. I know that it took guts and gumption. I know that not everyone has it in them to bite the bullet and go for it. But since I’ve been here I’m having to face the fact that fear is keeping me from doing what I need to do. I’m afraid to submit for auditions that I won’t be enough. I’m too shy to just hang out at clubs and try to make friends with other comics. The thought of connecting with people I don’t know makes me queasy. While I know that I’m funny, I worry that my jokes aren’t smart to be on stage with young guys in hoodies. I worry that I’m not funny enough to be in the larger comedy festivals. I’m afraid to really go after agent representation that they’ll just laugh at my lack of experience. And while this all whirls around in my head I sit and do little to nothing. I put myself out there just enough to say I’m doing something, but not enough to make anything happen.
We make a descent living. We’re not rolling in dough, but we do ok. We could easily move back east, work a couple weeks a month and spend lots of time together, with our friends and families. We could spend weekends in the back yard laughing and having BBQ’s. We could travel and see the world. We could relax. Watch a movie, take a nap, go for a ride on the bikes. We could have the dream....a white picket fence. It would be easy. It would be safe. But would it be enough?
That’s the hard questions for me and if the answers is no, then why not? That’s what we dream of when we’re young isn’t it? To have someone that we love, a family, friends, laughter, a job that we adore, enough money to take vacations and do some things, and a house that’s just perfect. But somewhere along the journey we decide we want more. More money, more “title” at work, more things....and the dream we already have is no longer enough.
I know what the answer is for us. The answers is.... we’ll always wonder What If? Every self help book I’ve read says you have to let go of the past, let go of your decisions and live life NOW. Let go of what if. What if I had taken that job? What if I had worked harder in my marriage? What if I had been there more for my kids? What if, what if, what if? But, I know, if we walk away from the glitter of Hollywood and choose the white picket fence we’ll always wonder? If we choose the easy life then we’ll never be able to sit on the couch and relax, or take a nap or ride the bikes without that question being whispered in the back of our minds.
I realize now the very thing I always wanted has become the enemy....it means the death of a dream....the source of the lingering questions what if....that if allowed will haunt me the rest of my days. Damn you white picket fence. Damn you.
As so many, we were deeply affected by the death of Robin Williams.....My sweet husband was kind enough to let me share his thoughts in my blog...
When Robin Williams died on August 11, 2014 he took a little bit of us with him. All of us. I’ve never seen this many people so upset about a star. I’ve never been this upset about a star. Just when I think the time for mourning has passed another memory or clip catches my attention and the tears reappear.
When I was a child I remember watching people cry on the anniversary/birthday of Elvis, JFK, Martin Luther King, John Lennon and to be honest I thought they were foolish. They didn’t even know that person! How can you feel that connected to someone you’ve never met? Don’t get me wrong, I respect these individuals immensely. It saddens me that they’re no longer with us. I also miss Hendrix, Morrison, Cobain, Farley and Belushi. I miss their ideals, talents and guidance. Especially Belushi. I LOVED John Belushi. But like I said, I was a child. I was only 11. I wasn’t mature enough to connect with him yet. If he would have passed when I was in my 20’s I probably would have felt differently.
I also remember being VERY sad and crying for a couple of days when Richard Pryor, another huge influence, died on Dec 10, 2005. Accelerated by the fact that I was performing at a comedy club in his hometown of Peoria,IL when it happened. At the risk of sounding morbid, I felt blessed to be working there when he passed. I carry that as a badge of honor which shows you how everyone disgustingly personalizes tragedy.
Other touching moments include the passing of George Carlin and Rodney Dangerfield. I loved them. I respected them. I always wanted to meet and work with them.
Robin’s death is lingering with me. I can’t shake it. This isn’t a ME thing either. I’m not the only person having a hard time letting go of him. It seems a big part of the planet is having the same problem.
I know a big part of it has to do with him being a fellow comedian. We lost another one of our own. Some would say our Captain. Even if he isn’t yours it’s a fact that all comics, male and female, have an unspoken kinship. Every night we bare our souls to strangers. It’s an addiction. We need it and it connects us. Any comic can walk into a bar full of people and immediately spot another comic. (It’s usually the quiet person sitting by their self.) Nothing is better than sharing horrible road stories with another comic. It let’s us know we’re not alone.
I also know it’s because he showed us his sensitive side. Much like Pryor, he opened up his world and put it on stage. Not to the extent of Pryor but you couldn’t help but feel like he was part of your family. “Hurry up Dale! Robin’s on!” I’ve heard that sentence a thousand times.
Maybe, like most people of my generation - I can’t remember a time without Robin. I recently found out that he influenced me before I even knew what that word meant. In the early 70’s he was on a tv show called “Laugh-In”, wearing a fireman’s hat and he said “I’m so happy I could lay a log.” I marched into the kitchen and repeated that to my mother when she asked me how i was doing and was confused by the look of shock on her face. I had no idea what I had said, I just knew it (and the strange man who said it) was funny. Twenty years later I ran across an infomercial for “Laugh-In” and watched Robin deliver that line. It all came rushing back to me. This person had been with me from the age of 4-5. I thought my first memory of him was “Mork & Mindy”.
I know this sounds ridiculous but consider the source -
As a child I was constantly picked on at school. Relentlessly. Even Kindergarten. I lived everyday in fear. “Is that person going to hit me or just make fun of me?” “Please don’t throw me down today. Just flick my big ears, laugh and move on.” “Why can’t I be bigger?” “Why doesn’t anyone like me?” “What’s wrong with me?”
My father worked second shift which basically means when I was awake he was asleep. My mother was the caretaker of the family and when I was 6 she moved us in with her parents so she could take care of her mother who was bedridden and dying of cancer. I can’t imagine how hard that was for my mom. Her mother had no clue who she was. Every day she would tell her she was a nice lady for helping her. For years, I don’t remember anyone laughing. Just overwhelming sadness.
My grandpa did his best to keep me occupied. He probably did it for his own sanity too. He was my best friend. My only friend. When grandma died in 1977, he should have climbed in the casket with her because I watched the flicker dim in his eyes. I was only 7 yrs old but I understood what was happening. We would be playing in the yard and all of sudden he would sit down and stare at something I couldn’t see. It was like a coma. I knew he was thinking about grandma and I remember holding his hand and waiting patiently until he came back to life. Not long after that he remarried, out of sheer loneliness. His new bride’s hobbies included emptying his bank account and a flair for all things dramatic which of course made his life a living hell. Less than a year after his 2nd marriage, he died of a heart attack. That’s what the doctor said. I was only 9 but I knew better. He died of a broken heart. My heart broke that day too.
At the funeral I refused to sit down. I didn’t make a scene, I just stood by his casket and stared at him. Wondering if his eyes would open. People would come by and talk to him and then look at me with tears in their eyes. I never cried. I just waited. Hoping for a miracle. Finally my mother gently made me take my seat so the preacher could start the eulogy. She has told me several times over the years that watching me stand there next to grandpa’s casket was the saddest thing she’d ever seen. I can only imagine. I was too deep in the rabbit hole to understand.
After that I was completely lost. No friends. I tried several times to play with the kids down the street but they were so mean it always ended in torment. I was an easy target and they reveled in it. All I had was the television and my imagination. And the latter went wild. For hours I would sit and play. Creating my own scenarios with Hot Wheels and Star Wars action figures. Voices and characters swirling in my head. When the arguing in the house got too unbearable I would go outside and climb my favorite tree until no one could see me. And the imagination would start flowing again. My mind became my new best friend taking me away from all the hurt to my own private resort where everyday the “soup of the day” was funny. No pain just laughter.
This is the exact moment in my life when everything became a joke. I had hurt enough. I didn’t like it and didn’t see the point. Why be sad? It’s not necessary and it doesn’t solve anything. Everyone should be happy.
It’s important to know that I was not a smart ass or a trouble maker in school. My goal was to be liked. No, LOVED. Which is why I got away with as much as I did, because I always took it right to the line and then backed off. Also, I never picked on anyone. I was always the butt of the joke. If I’m picking on me then YOU CAN”T. I’m in control.
So no wonder I attached myself to a crazy alien on TV. He was funny, weird, lovable and childlike. An outsider. He was everything thing I was and everything I wanted at the same time.
I think the real reason everyone is having a hard time with Robin’s death is because it was a suicide. We feel as if something evil has taken him. No warning. BAM! Gone.
A man who brought 40 plus years of joy to so many lives was hurting and none of us knew it. I feel selfish. I feel as if I took from him and never gave back.
But the comedian in me knows that isn’t true. All I ever want from an audience is laughter. I don’t need them to take care of me. The laughter does that. I just want them to laugh until it hurts, say “Thank You” and then go on their merry way. That’s not completely true either. I don’t expect anyone to say “Thank You”. As long as you’re happy I have achieved my fix.
However everyone is different. Some comics never want the show to end. Because that’s when the loneliness sets in. The mind is amazing but it can also be your worst enemy. I’ve always thought the biggest toughest prison in the world is your brain. You have to learn to control it. Not the other way around. No matter what your circumstances are, you can always decide if you want to laugh about it or cry.
Knowing what I know now, I’m not looking forward to the passing of Steve Martin, Bobcat Goldthwait or Howie Mandel. And when Bill Murray goes to the other side it’s going to rip me in two. I just hope they go peacefully. A comedian’s soul is tortured enough. No more suicides. Please.
So here’s the awful truth. My generation’s heroes are dying. It’s a fact of life. No one lives forever. But I’ve realized you don’t have to be a “star” to be a hero. We are all capable. So here’s the big question - Who will you influence? Who’s day will you change for the better? It doesn’t matter if you know them or not. You want to change the world? Be someone’s hero.
I've made jokes recently about why I'm not getting pregnant, so It's time for a MAKING BABY JONES update.....The truth is that Dale Jones' sperm is silly string.....Ok, that's not exactly true...here's what's going on.
In case you haven't figured it out we're not pregnant yet, though I wish we were...it would be a lot easier to explain my weight and waist line. Over 40 just makes it hard. At my age they say the chances of getting pregnant on your own are about 1% a month, where a girl in her 20's has about a 20% chance each month. Too much work in June (well, not too much work, but we won't be in town to see the fertility specialist) so in July we're going to try injectable fertility drugs with IUI.
The injectable fertility drugs apparently make more follicles for possible fertilization (increasing the chance of multiples), then a trigger shot which will force me to ovulate, and then the doctor will take Dale's silly string, put it in a medical like turkey baster and put it as close to my eggs as possible (just in case they don't swim well - it's hard cause they wear floaties)
Between the drugs and the monitoring and procedure it's about $2400, so we'll try once, maybe twice if it doesn't work the first time. IVF just isn't a possibility for us financially. After that, it may just be time to face the music and move on, as hard as that will be.
I got pregnant so easily at 17 & 19 - I never had to "try". Struggling to get pregnant has been an eye opening experience for me. I had no idea what women all over the world go through everyday. The tears and heart break and anguish. It’s a long, hard journey.
So if you’re been struggling to get pregnant, here’s to you...
If all you can think about is carrying and holding your own baby
If you’ve taken your temperature every morning for a year or two or five
If you pee on a stick day after day, month after month and try to imagine a line where there’s just white
If you’ve gotten your positive pregnancy test just to lose it a few days or a few weeks or a few months later
If you’ve spent your savings, and house fund, and retirement fund trying to make a family
If you cry and feel hopeless and like a failure every month when your “friend” arrives
If you’ve gone through test after test and no one can tell you why you’re not getting pregnant
If you force a smile every time a friend tells you they’re expecting because you truly want to be happy for them but it feels like the universe is slapping you in the face
If you click “like” on every new baby picture you see on facebook, then cry because it’s not your own...
Hang on my sisters, I know what you’re going through. You are not alone. xoxoxo
One of the beauties of comedy is open mic night. It’s where we ALL started. Jerry Seinfeld, Larry the Cable Guy that co-worker you dared to do comedy and ME. Some nights there is a real crowd. Some nights there’s only a few people in the audience. As a new comic it’s your chance to get on stage and try it out. It’s the place where you learn to tell a joke, hold the mic, what do do with your hands and the power of the pause. As a more seasoned comic it’s the place where you try out new material - write - create. In LA it’s how you start to integrate yourself into the local scene. It doesn’t matter if you’re funny or if you headline clubs “on the road” or if you’ve been doing it for years - You start with open mic.
Tonight, Dale & I went to the open mic at the world famous Comedy Store. There were a good 50 people there to put their name on the lotto list. They pick 16 - Thanks to a friend Dale & I were both able to get on the list tonight with the opportunity to perform THREE minutes for a crowd of ZERO. Fifteen comics in the back of the room (who don’t laugh at shit) and exactly ZERO audience members. And if the comics don’t laugh what does that mean - You’re damn right - You do your THREE minutes to silence.
Even though you watch the comics before you - Even though you know it’s going to be silent - You somehow think “I’ll get them - they’re going to laugh at me”. And when you’re three minutes of silence is over you start to wonder if you were ever funny.
First - I feel sorry for the comics that start out in LA - All their time is spent on stages in front of no one - I don’t know how they ever figure out what works and what doesn’t. Second - I’m grateful for the chance to stand on a stage that so many “GREATS” have stood on. There’s magic in it. BUT....and here comes the BUT - HOLY HELL - Doing 3 minutes to a crowd of no one and no laughter is depressing and heartbreaking and discouraging....and even though I held them back the tears were right there just wanting to show themselves.
Every road comic knows the drill. We’ve all done hell gigs. We’ve all done nights where there were only 2 or 5 or 10 people in the audience. Sometimes they were the right 10 people and sometimes they weren’t, but live or die, at least you had a chance. I wonder if the powers that be here in LA only ever see me without a crowd, how will they know what I can do with a crowd - How will they know I’m funny - How will they know that blood sweat and tears are behind every tried and true joke I deliver and that on most nights I can rock a crowd. Which all boils down to....What if I don’t have it - what if they never see it - what if I’m wasting my time.
Every comic that’s been here tells me the same thing....Time, it just takes time. Go back week after week and they will love you. But as I sit here in the glow of my computer screen I wonder...how will they ever love me if I can’t love myself in the silence. How do you shine when all you feel is defeat?
There is no quitting though. That’s not an option. I will swallow my pride and perform for no one or all the years I’ve been on the road will have been for nothing. So, tonight I will snuggle in my bed, eat a crunch bar, maybe shed a few tears and do it all again tomorrow....probably for a crowd of exactly NONE.
I have to be honest. When we had my tubes untied last July I was SURE I’d be pregnant within a couple of months. Not only was I not pregnant, but my body quit doing everything is was supposed to do. And for the first time it occured to me that I might not be able to give my husband a child. He may never know what’s it’s like to watch a little piece of yourself come screaming into the world....or what it’s like to have your own “mini me” look up at you with big eyes and melt your heart with “I luv you”. Of course he says that it doesn’t matter as long as he has me, but somewhere deep down I feel like a failure. I feel like my body won’t do the most basic thing a woman’s body is supposed to do...create and carry life.
Everyone says, “Oh, just relax and it will happen”. REALLY? Maybe when you’re 20 or 30, but at 44 we don’t have the luxury of time to just sit back and see what happens. If one more person tells me to relax and just let it happen I’m going to SNAP. Don’t get me wrong, I know everyone means well, but it’s a little more complicated than just relax.
One doctor believes in Invitro Fertilization - Another Intra Uterine Insemination - Another in fertility drugs alone - But the one thing they all agree on are the statistics of getting pregnant. In your 20’s you have a 20% chance of getting pregnant each month. At 44 it’s down to 1%. And while we “ignore” the ugly numbers and try to keep positive, the numbers are still real.
From all the testing we’ve had done we’ve found out we’re pretty normal for our ages. I don’t have a lot of egg left, but the ones I do are great quality. Within the next couple of months we’re going to try a round of injectable fertility drugs with Intrauterine Insemination. At $2300 bucks a pop we have one - MAYBE two tries...then we’re on our own - with a clock ticking so loudly it sounds like a scene from and Edgar Allen Poe story.
With any luck by the end of the summer we’ll be holding a positive pregnancy test, staring in disbelief that’s it really true. And if not I’ll mourn the loss of my fertility and find a way to move on. Either way - I get to do what I love and I got to marry my best friend....what more could a girl ask for.
Today marked 3 weeks since we arrived in LA and I went to Beverly Hills to meet a fertility specialist wearing my pajama jeans. Mostly because they’re the only jeans that really fit me....all these fertility meds have helped me pack on 20 pounds. Who gains weight to move to LA? The women here are 2‘s and 4‘s, not 12‘s. I get looks. I’m going to start telling people I’m down 150 pounds but I just can’t get off this last 30. Screw them, they don’t know my life.
It was $350 for the office visit and “We don’t validate parking”...welcome to Beverly Hills. Actually the doctor was wonderful and I’m ever hopeful our journey will have a happy ending. We’re getting some important test results back next week. If the number is over 1 the journey continues...If it’s under 1 then we’re done. COME ON 2.4!!!!!
It’s been a pretty good week. I did my first show in LA at the world famous Comedy Store. It was The C Word Show in the Belly Room. It had a great lineup of comics and I fit right in. I’m funny in LA. YAY. I know that sounds crazy, but going on stage in a big city is a little terrifying. What if I’m not funny here? What if they don’t like me? What if my comedy doesn’t work here? I got great response from the audience, but maybe more importantly I think I gained the respect of the some of the comics in the room. A few went out of their way to walk across the room in the dark and tell me great set. I even got fisted - I mean a couple of fist bumps. I’m one of the LA cool kids. Well, not really, but it’s a start. Thanks to all the clubs, bookers and fans that let me work it out on the road for the last five years! I love you all. Thanks for helping me get ready for my dream.
I read a great quote tonight - oddly enough while searching for a new comforter. It spoke to me...like I’m sure it will so many others...
FAITHFULLY, FEARLESSLY, FOREVER.
How’s that for motivation for the journey. Plus I figure, if I can pull of Pajama Jeans in Beverly Hills there’s nothing I can’t accomplish. I got this.
We sat watching the Oscars on TV and it hit me that all those celebrities were just 7 miles from my apartment; John Travolta, Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Amy Adams, Matthew McConaughey and even Adele Nazeem. I’m sure the night buzzed with after parties filled with fabulous people wearing all the right fashions.
It’s such a bizarre realization to know you’re in the land of swimming pools and movie stars. Stages where guys like Kinison, Hicks and Pryor worked out. Hotels with floors that were destroyed by Led Zepplin. Streets, stores and landmarks we’ve all seen on TV and in movies a thousand times. Famous zip codes (90210), famous streets (Mullholland), sidewalks lined with stars and the Hollywood sign that overlooks the city like a beacon of hope for so many dreamers. AND I LIVE HERE.
Around the corner from our apartment is a yummy Mexican restaurant that’s open 24 hours. Nine miles away is the world famous Comedy Store and The Laugh Factory and we’re just 25 minutes from the Santa Monica pier. Theoretically we live near Aaron Paul and Kim Kardashian and are just miles from where they tape Sons of Anarchy, The Price is Right and Mike & Molly. It’s a little like Fantasy Land for adults. A place where they come from far and near to put it all on the line and hope they’ve got what it takes. Sure, it would have been easier and less expensive to live almost anywhere but here, but then again I truly believe life isn’t worth living if you can’t believe in something great for yourself. Even when it’s scary and overwhelming - Believe in something GREAT - it’s better than the alternative.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.”
I always thought I was pretty outgoing and that my life was filled with lots of great friends. As I got older I learned that I had a lot of people I knew and just a few really good friends. And now that I’ve moved from city to city chasing a dream I’ve realized that I don’t really have any friends. It’s like being the new kid in school year after year and just when you find people you really like it’s time to move again. And the friends I’d had since high school fade further and further away. It’s hard being the new kid in town.
Don’t get me wrong, I get to work with some great comics that I love. They’re intelligent and creative and salt of the earth people, but while I’m headed in this direction they’re headed in that direction and our paths rarely cross.
I’ve also learned in the last few years that I’m a lot more shy and awkward than I realized. Put me on stage in front of a few hundred people and I come to life. Put me in a room full of strangers and I shut down. I have no idea how to start a conversation with someone I don’t know and even less of an idea how to make a connection.
I think it’s the road. I remember when I used to have a normal life. Lived in one spot, worked at one place, had weekends off, went to Mary Kay parties or Pure Romance parties and had other women that I worked with and had things in common with. Life was definitely easier back then. Now I work when most people are off, I’m home and free while they’re working, and I’m probably going to be in a completely different state when they want to do get together and do something fabulous.
Today was a victory. I got on a show at The Comedy Store. It’s a big deal to me and a great night to go out and celebrate. But being the new kid in town I don’t have a single girlfriend yet to call. Luckily my son took pity on me and we went to dinner and a movie. I would have been truly lost tonight without him.
I guess the point to all this is to love the friends you have and don’t take them for granted. Be true, be honest and be there. Friends are important for everyone, but i think especially for women. We truly need the connection. We need friends. Good friends. Enduring friends. Women in our lives that have been where we’ve been, are going where we headed and that will have our backs no matter what. We need a friend that will cry with us, one that will tell us the truth no matter how hard, one that will show up no matter what time, and one that will love us no matter what we’ve done. Being a woman is too hard to do alone....it takes a village!