When I used to do stand-up, my life was much different. Late night hours. Random bars/comedy clubs/colleges/dives. Sometimes I loved getting on stage and did what I could to get on stage. Other times, the idea of doing some shitty show at 2 in the morning to 5 tourists made me want to scream. It was a fun time– an unpredictable time, but it was also a time full of self-doubt, bad men, sexist pigs, and mentally ill people galore. I was depressed more often than not. I went into the “field,” left, and then came back again. The first time around, I really just threw my ideas into my act without a lot of organization as I was really just getting my feet wet. It was more like an experiment. I could talk about family or MTV or some random bad date. Nothing really gelled together as one. Sometimes a joke bombed or just didn’t quite work, and sometimes it really worked. The problem for me was as a female who felt unattractive (looking back I was much more attractive than I am now probably which may or may not be saying much), I was amongst a group of people in which there were few women, and many men. This for me was good, but mostly bad. Bad because I needed love and approval and the people I was around weren’t always with genuine intentions. I ended up leaving the field, only to come back about 2 years later, maybe a year.
Coming back was a good thing. I needed the time away to strengthen myself as a person.
I had spent a decent time working on writing at Columbia–was still a student– and my writing in general, had gotten better. This seeped into my comedy. I also thought about what I wanted to portray and wrote about things that meant more to me–family problems, past trauma, goals, dreams. Dark stuff. I feel like just before I left again, I was on to a particular writing style that could really work for me.
I left because I wanted a more stable life. If you really want to make it, you’ve got to be out late, travel to wherever…and that wasn’t exactly a life for someone who wanted to get married, finish college, and have a baby/babies.
I miss the stage, and I’ve already spoken to my husband about going back, which he is supportive of, once our kid/s are old enough to withstand a mom out late now and again. I will probably never pursue it enough to the point where “making it” is my goal, but I’d love to do a few dive bars, clubs, and stuff for fun. I think I have a lot more to say and I feel like I am a different person–hell I know I am.
I was a very unconfident, anxious, and depressed girl…who was easily swayed and dismayed by the fucked up men who ran the business…or who did comedy with me. There were a few nice guys in the business, no doubt, but there were many who weren’t. Now I’ve got motherhood to talk about. Family. Trauma. Marriage. Disappointments and triumphs. And even though I don’t need to be famous and am not driven to be a star, I feel like I have something to share and would get a lot from being up there in a new perspective. I don’t need the money–I just need the laughter. Even the dead silence when a joke doesn’t work. It is part of me and will never go away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s