29 5 / 2013
I am constantly being pulled apart by creative projects. Projects that are meant to be my lifeblood, projects that I willingly choose to be a part of, projects that I ENJOY end up being the bane of my existence, simply for living on my calendar.
Like most “Slashies” (a term I lovingly borrow from ‘Zoolander’) who divide their time between stand-up, writing scripts, making shorts, making “art,” sleeping, and doing some serious hanging with friends who divide their time similarly - it’s DAMN HARD. How do you manage? How could you manage?
Focusing too much on one area, makes you feel like you’re cheating on another. I’m often wedging myself within that purgatory where thinking about all I need to do stresses me out, so that I don’t do any of it. Kind of like dog-paddling in your subconscious. The essence of procrastination.
So I was thinking - let’s try to have a “Perfect Week" one in which we do everything we want. Really go to the gym 3x’s a week, really read for 30 minutes/day, really make some traction on that script draft, and then really write a new joke and actually go to that open mic in the middle of God-knows-where to hang with who-knows-what.
Maybe if we know the week after is a “vacation week,” and it appears to us like a light at the end of the tunnel, we’ll work harder. Who knows? Maybe we’ll give ourselves shingles from all the stress. That’s a possibility, too. But the one thing we won’t crumble from is the lack of trying, and the guilt of devoting your life to something you rarely even do.
So, who’s with me?
23 5 / 2013
"I feel like a I want to switch gears a little bit, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. But you know what? I think that kind of sums up life. We don’t know what the fuck we’re doing half the time anyway. Or at least me. I can’t speak for you. I’m sorry if I did. I’m a meandering idiot. That’s it, meandering idiot….or maybe I’m enlightened. I’m sure a lot of people thought Buddah was an idiot. Some kind of guy sitting there under a tree staring off into space, doesn’t really seem like the brightest thing on Earth, does it ? And, you know, if you sit under a tree, you’re inevitably gonna get some bird shit on you. Enlightened or not, birds are going to shit on you. I’m sure Jesus got it. You can’t tell me Jesus wasn’t doing ‘Sermon on the Mount’ and a dove flew by and dropped some bird shit on him."
Meandering through the opening of year 2 of Conversations with Matt Dwyer
Episode 53 with guest Josh Caldwell, Musician (Les Blanks, Holy Folk)
Feral Audio (via podquotes)
Matt Dwyer is one of my dearest friends and favorite people. And he’d probably call me a dummy for saying that. He is brilliant. By himself. Without any constraints of an art medium to hold him. The kind of stream-of-consciousness that pops out of his big dummy head is brighter and funnier than anything else we struggle to phrase. He’s a good dude who deserves the best, and he’ll get it.
16 5 / 2013
I was 10 years old when my Dad showed me the sequel to “Back to the Future,” and for a long while it was my favorite. I could tell you - right here, right now - nothing is more tantalizing to a young kid than a cool image of the future. I’m pretty sure this is universal to the 12-and-under crowd.
I remember doing the math in my head - the “future” in BTTF II is the year 2015. I would be 27 at that time. Who would I be? I mean - I would be DRIVING and living on my own, so common sense tells me I’d probably be a pretty cool person.
I thought I would be married by 26. But that’s an unrealistic goal to set for yourself since it relies on another human being.
I thought I would have a house. Economy aside, I probably wouldn’t be able to afford this anyway. Unless I wanna share a bathroom with 4-5 other people, I can check this off the list.
I thought I would have a cool dog. At this point, I can JUST BARELY afford to feed myself. I don’t have “Trader Joe’s Fuck You” money just yet - but I’m on the cusp. I think.
I thought I would have not a job, but a “career.” This is partly true. As is the truth for so many of us living in Los Angeles and chasing the dragon, it’s feast or famine. I’m very lucky to have people who work in various levels of Entertainment who think I’m a pretty okay lady. Though, it still feels a little like lying when I tell people, “I’m a TV writer.” Or even worse, “A stand-up comedian.”
It’s important to learn about expectations, and how most of what you measure yourself up to is a 10-year-old’s image of the future. I don’t feel anywhere near what I thought 2015 would look like, but then again - where the fuck are all of our hover boards?
I live in a shoebox, I double my kitchen table as a work station, guzzle caffeinated things that are killing me slowly all to meet deadlines for things that will seem incredibly silly in retrospect - but holy shit I would not change a goddamn second of it.
My friends are great, my health is steady, my Mom’s pretty cool, and I don’t live next to someone who’s trying to be a DJ, or a drummer, or runs an underground daycare operation.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go sing Showtunes into a karaoke mic during Happy Hour, then immediately run to tell jokes into a microphone for an audience I most likely will be friends with. And if you’re reading this and you are ACTUALLY Doc Brown and/or Michael J. Fox - please - don’t tell my 10-year old self that sentence; I wouldn’t wanna hurt her due to her MIND BEING COMPLETELY BLOWN IN HALF.
16 5 / 2013
This Changes Everything
- 1: So I just wrote that 'Statement of Intent' thing with the standard stuff, you know - how I grew up with a single-Mom, how I'm racially mixed...
- 2: What? You're not racially mixed.
- 1: I'm a quarter Mexican! You're the one who told me to write, "Hispanic" on every college application and every other application just in case.
- 2: Pssssh. I mean, I GUESS.