#8

Last week, I told my therapist I was going to wake up at the same time every morning. I made this promise of sorts to her (and to myself) because for my entire life, I've been saying I'm going to wake up at a certain time every day and I never do. In my vision of what a successful person looks like, that person always wakes up at the same time every morning. Whether that's true or not (and I suspect it really isn't)  it didn't happen for me. I woke up whenever I felt like waking up. Whenever I was ready to face the day. Self sabotage?

I am a native New Yorker and I love New York more than anything but the city has a way of  kicking the shit out of you at times. Whatever issues you have concerning home life, family, job, finances, relationships, the MT (fucking) A, long lines at Duane Reade (why is there only one person at the counter?), long lines at Starbucks, long lines at the bank-- and you can bank on being a grump (at the very least) and bumping into more grumps throughout the day. So, despite my willingness to try (yet again) to wake up a certain time, it just wasn't happening this week knowing I was facing THAT...AGAIN! God forbid, I lived in a war torn country or faced life threatening obstacles everyday (some would say New York is like that but it's not). Bottom line, I should be grateful this is all I face! I should be grateful for electricity, hot and cold running water, my eyesight, my limbs, my health in general, your health and everyone's health!

Where are my priorities? 

No one's life is perfect. No one's. Mine is significantly better than most but my realities are my realities and my challenges are mine and this is what I got...

So, I worked late and stayed out late a good portion of this week which led my nights into my mornings, which led my mornings into my afternoons and because of that there was an underlying pressure to catch up with stuff . I never felt fully prepared and yet somehow managed to be wholly alert and present for all situations. From my father to my friends to the shows, I was accountable. Nothing suffered. So it was.

I attribute whatever stability I have to bikram yoga, therapy and other  "outlets".  As I mentioned in an earlier blog, getting out of self and helping others (which a lot of what do is) is tantamount to my overall well being.

So, I make this recommendation to anyone who could be struggling with their mornings or their days in general.  Get up and give of yourself, you will be rewarded. Maybe not immediately but in the long run. (In my mind, I hear comedians joking about "giving of themselves")

Speaking of jokes, I got sucked into a Tinder vortex this week too. Swipe him to your left, swipe him to your right! Holy hell, that was addicting and mind numbing! It's truly bizarre to see that you have friends in common with a virtual stranger that lives 49 miles away from you and who you will never actually go on a date with.

In related news, a man from another dating app called himself  "moves like Jagger" but he looked like he moved more like Burt Young (only a handful of you will get that reference and even Jagger doesn't move quite like Jagger anymore).

Diversions, diversions, diversions... but I have things to do! I always have things to do and that is a good thing! I think of Morgan Freeman in Shawshank redemption. I say to myself, "I just want to be with my friend Andy."  It reminds me of the "hope is a good thing" part of Morgan's monologue. Yes! Hope! That is what we get up for!

So, I hope I'll be able to set my alarm in the future and I hope to turn myself into the vision of success that I aspire to be and I hope that you all get what you may want or need.

I hope.

#7

I don't rely on an alarm. I usually get up before I'm "supposed" to . In the last few days , I haven't really wanted to get out of bed though. I mean, I do but I just haven't...wanted to. Whether it's perceived scenarios in my head of conversations and situations that havent taken place, mounting bills, concern about my father or just general pressures--whatever it may be, I just want to hide.

Did I do that? No.

Grown ups don't have the luxury of wallowing. Certainly, my friends with kids don't. 

I get up later. I'm more harried but I suit up, show up, go to work, go to yoga class and deal with all matters in the best way I can--feeling the way I feel-- some kind of general malaise. 

Sometimes that is my condition and I have to trust that it will pass and I have to take necessary steps to help it pass-- meditate, take walks in the park  and spend time with friends--things like that. It's a kind of a low level anxiety that really only lifts after I start helping someone else and, of course, when I'm doing something creative or watching comedy.

Writing this helps.

The good news is that for the time being my father is fine. He's seeing doctors today and taking steps to ensure that there's nothing overly serious going on. We'll speak later...as always.

Tonight, I'll take yoga class and maybe go to a movie with a friend (who needs a friend right now) and...

There is always comedy.

Right now, I'm sitting in a diner listening to two men speak very animatedly in French while Minnie Riperton's "Loving You"plays (the fact that I know this makes me feel old) in the background and watching NY1.

Well, It's time to pay the check, get going and save the world.

#6

The last two nights, I worked and went out with comedians after the shows. Along with the usual "what's the next move?" or “how can we improve our game?” types of questions, I can count on witnessing some playful ribbing & quick witted banter that sparks between the guys when they talk about each other’s attire. This is customary among comics. Years ago, I was fortunate to see it done well and often between Rich Vos, Patrice O'Neal and Keith Robinson.

This juvenile behavior has carried over from high school and still holds up as the guys hit their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s and beyond. Tonight’s topic is “sneakers” and it starts with "look at those shoes!” “you can wear those inside out!" and it escalates from there. I'm silent and I smile into my soup because I know I'm not fast enough to take part.  I’m the kid that thought of the funny thing to say after the fact. It's really okay. I'm wearing boots anyway. I'm also reeling from being told only moments earlier, that I look like Roz from Frasier. I understand the comparison but I'm hoping I'm the sexier version of Roz...no offense to Roz.

So, waking up this morning wasn’t the easiest. I probably look more like Roz then, let’s say, Demi Moore (who I prefer to resemble). I’m definitely groggy and rushing. I scan my tiny bedroom for a clean dress and settle on a blue, black and brown polka dot-style Anne Klein print and I pair that with my blue converse sneakers and dash. Sneakers. I definitely look like someone’s misfit mom.

I’m on time for work and within seconds the first delivery of the day arrives.  Shortly, the place will be abuzz with rehearsals, improv shows, open mics and our headliner showcases.

It’s never dull. That’s for sure.

#5

It's raining and I can't tell whether or not the sound is coming from the outside world or my earbuds (having fallen asleep to a meditation download). I'm relaxed but don't know what day it is, what time it is or where I have to be. I move slowly. The rain tells me so.

Yesterday, I gave myself a real vacation. I strolled through Central Park and took pictures. I took a Bikram class. I read. I walked. I walked everywhere. I caught up with old friends and tried to meet new ones ;). Unlike today, the weather was accommodating.

Underneath yesterday's feeling of calm, I suspected something was wrong with my father. As he ages, everything becomes potentially more serious and I've paid close attention to every conversation we've had of late. He's never talked about needing a cane. This is definitely new. I don't like that his balance is off or that he refuses to have some in-home care. It's frustrating. My father was more than an able-bodied man in his day, so I know that these last few years of declining health have taken a toll on him mentally as well as physically. We will be speaking later and I am certain to get more updates.

It's 10am. I realize I slept 9.5 hours. This is rare and the fact that I slept so soundly is also rare. Acceptance.

Not having to rush out the door, I go through my emails and see what's on the agenda. Nothing strikes me as unusual. I can count on several emails from my boss and a few from comedians looking for stage time. Some OKCupid's thrown in the mix... all are duds.

I make a health shake. I turn on some music. The Lion Sleeps Tonight is playing. I find it comforting. I remember hearing it when I was little girl. I'm a Leo and, while I don't really believe in all that zodiac and astrological mumbo-jumbo, there are certain things about Leo's that are absolutely true--we are generous, we are prideful, we are loyal and we love to be love and be loved. I respond to all things lion.  

Well, I certainly did sleep well in the jungle last night but now it's time to pounce or roar or something. Too bad I just can't lie under a tree in the shade but duty calls.

#4

I wake and from the moment I do my mind is a blur of negativity as thoughts race--why don't I have any money? The carpet needs to be cleaned. I'm out of coffee. There are bits of toothpaste sticking to the bathroom sink. Why is there so much dust? Where is it coming from? My apartment's too small. I'm sick of all this crap! How come I don't have a boyfriend? Who would want me? This?

Then it hits me. I'm just standing in my kitchen staring at my broken cellphone charger.

It's superficial and I'm disgusted with myself. Why aren't my thoughts loftier like-- how can I help people? What can I do? Why am I not thanking God for my very existence?  I'm annoyed that I can't really control the mutterings of my morning head. These thoughts have been programmed into my DNA--from my childhood or socio-economic background or blah blah what have you. Whatever. I'm in the throws of this for at least 30 minutes and that's 30 minutes too long.

Well, I need the damn cellphone charger replaced so I make that my first priority. Sadly, I'm chained to it plus I was supposed to call my father at 11am and it's now 11:41am. He's waiting.

Just getting out of the house on another beautiful day improves my mood. Spending $40 on a the new charger does not. Getting a $5 dollar discount off said charger does.Thus, begins my series of checks and balances that will last all day.

I won't have to be at work until 7pm and now it's a tossup between whether or not I will take a yoga class or go sit in the sun. I opt for the sun, having seen so little of it all winter long.
It's nearly noon & I decide that it would be best that I go hit a meeting first. Some of you know the kind of meeting I mean--one that gets your mind right. I know of one that starts in a half hr. I can also charge my phone there. I recognize the speaker and I get a healthy dose of the fundamentals of gratitude and acceptance and I am sufficiently readjusted.

We only have today and we can choose how we live...today. Cliché but true.

From there, I walk to the East River and call my father with my newly recharged cellphone. It's a good conversation and that's probably because neither of us had it when we first woke up. I think about how fortunate that he's still with me. The sun warms my face. There is feeling of peace but it is momentarily interrupted with txts from work. I might have to go in early. Nope. I don't.

So, I go back to the sun and all is right...in this moment.

I have a job. I can't clean the carpet now but I will eventually. I can buy a can of coffee. I can wipe away the toothpaste from the bathroom sink. I can even dust. I'm perfectly fine alone. 

It's perspective and it fluctuates.

Mornings #3

Waking up at 5:15am isn't exactly ideal but I was meeting a good friend (and fellow comedian) for a taping of a television show.

Surprisingly, on just two hours sleep, I feel rather refreshed when I get up. That's the thing about getting a little older and living "cleanly", you actually have more energy than you think you do and you don't want to miss out on anything. Or maybe, in reality your body isn't designed to sleep anymore. Who knows? But I am up and I am ready. I also have a limited window where fear thoughts can creep in because I have to get out of the apartment and so they never materialize. Basically, I dress and bolt out the door. I don gray slacks, a v-neck black shirt and the same pink Aldo jacket that I wore the other day (that seemed to be a hit).  I haven't made it a block before I bump into a handsome comedian that I know. You don't often see comedians this early in the morning unless they're staggering home from a night out or going to tape something and I didn't think either was the case for him as he looked pretty darn good but not attired for some morning gig. We exchanged pleasantries and parted ways.

I hustled to meet my other friend and with coffees in hand, she and I hailed a cab and made our way to the show. Here's the thing about talk shows--there's a whole lot of forced applause breaks and smiles and smiles and smiles but in the end, the folks that do them are hard-working people. They're putting out a product & everybody's got something to sell. Everybody. You don't have to buy it and you don't have to watch it but once in a while there's some good information you can garner. Yes, I said "garner." I like going to these things once in awhile and, on the off chance that the camera hits me, it's a nice  thing for my father to see at home in Florida when the segment airs. I think/hope he takes pride in these fleeting moments on screen (even though I'm not on the show per se) because he knows I'm in the entertainment game--doing my thing... whatever that actually is.

After the taping, My friend and I score some swag ($100 gift card) which makes the early morning call  even more pleasing. Topping it off,  Laila Ali (daughter of boxing legend Mohammed Ali) was the guest and I found her to be completely grounded, honest and funny. After the show, my friend and I grab a bite to eat--opting for healthy choices after minimal discussion. 

I will say there was an unfortunate incident with me spitting grits but that's only because she's freakin' funny.

It's worth noting that this has been one of the nicest days so far this spring and as the sun burns through the clouds, I walk through Central Park. I cruise through Sheep's Meadow, head over to Bethesda Fountain and make my way to the Boat Pond.  For a moment, I'm struck by the sunlight reflected in ripples of the water, the tipping sailboats and ducks but in the distance I hear the sound of music and move toward it. Ultimately, I perch myself on a bench to listen to some really talented jazz musicians. You simply have to love New York City.

I'm off to a great start but it's not even 1pm and there's plenty of day ahead.

4/9/14 - There are about 50 screaming kids outside my office door. They're here for an Improv show and they're very happy and hopeful.  I hear Bill Burr's voice in my mind saying "Settle that!"  

I, on the other hand, am in the office working, taking phone calls, answering questions & anticipating deliveries. Doing so while there seems to be a jackhammer coming through the ceiling above me. I'm always asking, "What are they fixing?" "What are they doing?" "Where is this coming from?" and I have yet to find out exactly who, what and why. It all comes with the territory though and I've grown used to it. In the old days this would probably be grounds for a cigarette but these are not the old days and I'm healthier and chomping on grapes.

When I wake up, in addition to all of the other rituals I have, I anticipate that I'm walking into this scenario so I'm never really taken by surprise. I work in a comedy club for crying out loud.

It's actually the kind of chaos I thrive on now. I feel alive (not Mary Tyler Moore alive--just alive) in it and there's nothing better than after a crazy day--where you may be pulled in all sorts of directions (but you somehow manage to balance it out) that you get to put on a show and make people laugh because in the end it's laughter that counts and of course making your boss a couple of dollars.

Hold it! I think I just described Tina Fey's character on 30 Rock. Maybe I should stop writing. Liz Lemon meet Gina Savage.

4/8/14 -The day starts benignly negative (if that makes any sense). I don't want to get out of bed & there are a few aches and pains that remind me that it's going to take about an hour before the body is right and if the body isn't right, how could the mind be? Already I'm working from a place where winning doesn't seem possible but there's just too much to do, work to be done and appointments to keep so I just don't have time to dwell in a head space that allows fear to overtake it. People are depending on me which also doesn't lend itself for lingering in thoughts that will keep me under the covers. I ignore the body, shut down my mind and make a cup of coffee.

I check email after email and all social media and discover that I was on CBS for about two seconds and it thrills me. I examine the 2 second image of myself addressing the NY Comedy Club audience and then my image fades into that of another comic. I look for a spark of evidence that there is some star quality in those 2 seconds but it's just me & I grow weary of examining myself. So, I return to the other "stuff"---the breaking news stories, the emails and the comedic status updates that have become customary to my morning routine. At some point, I become satisfied that I will be able to handle whatever comes my way and I put on a black dress and my "new" $15 pink Aldo coat (purchased from a thrift store) and I go meet a friend for a bite at Isabella's.

We haven't seen each other in a minute so there's a lot to catch up on. The hostess seats us on the second level of the restaurant overlooking the upper westsiders, tourists, businessmen & women and the smattering of cherry blossom and pussy willow branches below. A warm April breeze fills the restaurant.

For a moment, it actually feels like I have a few dollars in my pocket but that's just because I know my friend is paying and that in itself is a luxury. We reminisce. Its 12:15 PM and he has a white wine and I have an iced cappuccino. So it is.