Wake Up I Love You

I hate Tuesdays and Tuesdays hate me. I've said just about everything I felt like I've ever needed to say about Tuesdays and my feelings about Tuesdays. How I've historically navigated Tuesdays. My current feelings about Tuesdays, as they crop up. The state of research into Total Tuesday Elimination, the grueling, intractable, and ultimately personal war I'm fighting against Tuesdays. We don't need to go there again.

This one's no exception but it is over. I didn't go out last night, though I totally meant to. The show didn't start until midnight, though, and I had to get up at 7am to go to work. And that wouldn't be a problem except that I'm rehearsing tonight until 9pm and I know I couldn't do it hungover or under slept. I feel bad, like a loser, like I never go out anymore.

Something a wise therapist once told me was that when we find ourselves using words like "always" or "never", that's often a good indication that the feelings we're expressing may in fact pre-date the current circumstances. I release myself from the guilt of not going out all the time. I've never gone out all the time. For a while I was working a few days at a gay nightclub in addition to temping. For like, maybe a few months. I totally hated it. It was agonizing. Who am I kidding.

Last night I had a video conference with my best friend BOBO. She ran through her set for a stand-up comedy performance she did last night. I'm so gutted that I couldn't be there! It's her third time or so performing stand-up. Lucky Seattle. Bobo is, of course, hilarious. This is one of the many reasons she's been my best friend for so long. Although as proud of her as I am, I'm a little bit miffed that she's performing stand-up, because then it's like all these other people (in Seattle, no less) get to revel in the hilarious crackpot genius of Danielle Rainbow Motherfucking Rosa. But that's the point, I suppose. I still get the good parts. Her set was so funny. I hope she taped it.

Been thinking a lot about stand-up comedy as a category, art form, context. I keep noticing really cool people doing stand-up here in New York, and I'm not at all part of what would be considered the stand-up "scene". There seem to be people doing stand-up where, to my mind, they could just as easily be calling it performance art or whatever. I'm thinking specifically of geniuses like Max Bernstein, Becky Eklund, Caroline Contillo, Casey Jane Ellison, and of course dear Bobo. On New Year's Eve, the co-host Jessica Halem said that she wanted people to start identifying as stand-up comediennes. That makes sense to me; I think maybe it's the right time to reconsider what it means. I'm excited by the possibilities here. I wish Danielle would fucking move back to New York. But I'm glad she's holding down the radical truth-telling possibilities of stand-up in Seattle.

But at the same time, I'm way too unfunny (on purpose, natch) to call myself a stand-up. Performance Art has had a rough childhood, please be nice to it! I guess I'm just always super skeptical of people who are anxious to contextualize themselves. Like, Oh, I'm sorry, is the audience understanding you incorrectly? Are your intentions not being satisfactorily understood by the audience? Are we projecting? Is this not what you meant at all? I'm so sorry. (Hint: I'm not sorry). The art work I'm making right now is something I very much, absolutely consider to be ECHT performance art, but likely no one who sees it will get that. And that is okay with me. I definitely have much bigger fish to fry.

That thing though, of worrying about your context. I want to slap your face and then kiss it. Wake up! I love you. Wake up, I love you.

Super fucking duper excited to get my hair cut tomorrow by thee lovely William at Seagull Salon. It's been too long, my hair looks disgusting. I'm also seeing the new Comme des Garçons collection tomorrow. I kind of want to buy these jeans, from the Ganryu CdG line, but like... do I really need another pair of batshit crazy jeans? Doesn't everyone? All I want is to have no habits; no reflexes. Or at least, no habits that aren't earning their keep.

Like, if my life was a ship, then my habits, my reflexes, my assumptions, would all be stowaways. And I want to put them to work swabbing the deck. Make my neuroses work for me. Instead of getting me lost and dragging me down, they could (I imagine) be guiding me, cooking me food, repairing my sails.

All aboard.

Oh gosh, yesterday also Saint Mix Justin Vivian Bond posted a new episode of vs new amazing video series DRUNK NEWS. It's absolutely my favorite TV show. I'm so obsessed. Please stop what you're doing and watch this right now.

Ok. Off to the studio.

No comments: