Mean Red's and Gimme Some Head!

So I’m pretty much at my goal weight (40 lbs gone y’all!) and I think the liposuction went a little deep because it feels like the funny has been just sucked out of me completely. It’s amazing how differently people treat you when your body changes. People are just nicer! Like instead of wanting to throw feces at me when I’m walking down the street people want to shit over me while hovering over a glass coffee table! See what I mean? Polite! Or instead of wanting to shake my hand they want to stick two fingers and a thumb in me like a bowling ball and throw me down a hallway into bed! And now I’m throwable! Before all I could hope for was a soft shove! It’s nice and it’s annoying. As a female comic I have always been on the sexy side, let’s be real. I mean I always had the Marilyn thing happening, can’t help it. Not being egotistical it’s true. I mean I was just genetically programmed to be utterly fabulous (with a great set of udders, THANK YOU DEMOINES I’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK!) All the women in my family were knockouts in their day. But not to worry if you see them now you’ll see that I will one day turn into Ethel Merman. Wide assed brassy Jew broad who wears sequined sweaters with too much makeup, too much jewelry, and too much perfume, and hair that stays in place in winds up to 80 mph who never stops consuming or complaining and has a larger variety of antacids in her purse then a Walgreens shipping center. (I can’t wait!) Anyway, now all I do is work out, eat calorie free styrofoam at home alone like a dog because restaurants are off limits because you don’t even know how much oil, salt, butter or fat is injected into what seems like a guilt free menu item. So the secret to weight loss? Don’t enjoy anything! Got it? Ok!

My career has still been slow as fuck. The thing is I’m an Aries with an Aries rising and I have no fucking patience and am spoiled and angry. Plus I’m lonely and lost any fire in my belly or motivation towards comedy along the way. Pretty much the entire month of august and this lovely Labor Day weekend has been among the darkest depressions I’ve had in my life thus far with one difference. I have not been bingeing on heroin, cocaine, alcohol, pies (pizza and/or fruit,) cakes, fried everything, chips, dips, bread, cheese, candy, and ice cream with a mayonnaise chaser. Instead I’m going and sweating out my rage at show business and men (all there is in life apparently) at the gym on a pitiful little elliptical that is on its last legs from my violent exercise attacks I AM HELGA THE UNMOVABLE MOUNTAIN AAAAAGGGGG!!!! This is a good thing that I have not fallen off the wagon with all my addictions however it's not fully good news cause I have been drinking a lot and chain-smoking like Lucille ball at a friars club roast. So what the fuck is my problem? The only way I can put it is that I have these voices and demons that live within me that I have gotten pretty good at keeping quiet and docile, but these days have been reaching and sinking their black fingers (they're Caucasian, just dirty and covered in soot) into me and clawing up through my heart and my brain. They have the belief that I’m dirty and tainted and separate from all other human beings that I’m disgusting and sick and not worthy. I think everyone has a degree of these demons but they are a voice we can choose to listen too or not but sometimes they are so loud you have a harder time tuning them out. Also when listening to these voices the voices of others who aren’t necessarily positive seem the loudest too. Like some skinny white boy dime a dozen douche bag comedian who no one knows but will probably get famous before me just because he's white, funny, dorky and "relatable"(which is the main recipe in the Comedy Central cookbook of generic comedy) told me that he saw me at Caroline’s and said "you seemed really drunk on stage..." which I wasn't and anyone who knows me knows that I just act like a retard sober, then he went on to say "you were ok, you did too much crowd work I didn’t see enough of your material" meaning I improv'ed too much with the crowd, to which I responded "um sorry I didn’t realize I was auditioning" and he said "well you were auditioning for my first impression, which wasn't good and what material you did do was weak but I could see you have the potential within you to be actually funny." Now it was this kid's birthday so, as the class act that I am, I kind of just smiled said happy birthday and left biting my tongue and also left his miserable name that his slut mother gave him out of this blog. The old Harriet would've probably sent him to the hospital (I had a jwoww period in my youth) but the thing is, I realized why it burned so much was because he was kind of right. I did not have a good set that night (granted no one really did cause it was a Monday 10pm crowd which is not the most desirable spot to have, but only a chump blames their set on the audience which is exactly what I just did) I remember my crowd work did well and my material fell flat. Recently I am feeling like a complete failure as a comic (black demon fingers). Because of the lack of gigs (and open mics don’t count) I haven’t been feeling funny, that I’m coming up with anything new or anything that anyone would care about. That my act has become hokey and predictable and the worst part is that I don't really have any desire or care to write anything new or really get on stage ever again. If I’m not getting paid then it has to be fun and it's not fun at all anymore, it's fucking soul sucking and boring. But I know this is a phase. I know I’m good cause of the fan base I’ve built over the years (hopefully not just from being ‘sexy’) I’m talented and I was born to perform I’m just not feeling it right now! The passion has left! Perhaps it's the demon fingers, or maybe it's the constant focus on my diet and body that is distracting me, or the lack of any love life ever and the always being alone all the time always, or the fact that I have 30 dollars to my name! I know people have it so much worse and are struggling to eat and live and strive towards a dream on top of it and I’m sitting here unemployed and miserable in my gilded bird cage and I just stopped trying like a spoiled cunt. The world is crumbling around us with back-to-back earthquakes and hurricanes that granted have been pretty gay, but here I am focusing so much on my ego when there are real things happening around my bubble of self loathing and 35 calorie cheese wedges. I am grateful for what I do have like my family and my friends (that I can count on one shop teachers hand) I just have what Truman Capote called "the mean reds."  Don't anybody pull a Cher on me and say, "snap out of it" because you might lose a finger like a shop teacher. I am coming out of it though and starting to think about what projects I can create for myself while my blank calendar stares me in the face. I will succeed and be the star I was born to be I think I need to take these voices into consideration and heal them instead of suppressing or avoiding them so the next time they’re not so debilitating.

It’s gonna be ok! The famous Halloway resilience folks! Good stuff on the horizon which I’m excited for. Comedy can suck my dick.