Am I proud of that? Only slightly.
My record was set back in 2003, when I was around 13 or 14 and I stayed up with my friends all night. We finally went to bed around 8 am and we slept until 8 pm, totally fucking our sleep cycle. But we felt so badass about it. We stayed up watching “Clueless” and “Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion” (nevermind the fact this movie became incredibly ironic to my life just this past year), we used mousse to style our hair at 2 in the morning, I swear we ate 40 lbs. of licorice strings that night. My two friends weren’t allowed to go to sleepovers at my house anymore after that. Apparently I’m a “bad influence” pfff. Yes, I was totally the bad influence in that scenario. Comedy movies and candy lead to the devil’s magic, which I practice regularly.
It’s not like we even did anything bad, we seriously just wanted to see if we could stay up all night. Lighten up, mothers of the millennium!
But today, I woke up at 2 p.m. A feat that is rarely accomplished when you deal with insomnia, stress, anxiety, and depression. I feel good that I am taking a total day to myself. This has not happened in months, and I know it won’t happen in many more months to come. So, as hard as it is for my brain to wrap around a total day off? I’m doing it.
Right now, my mind is worried about work responsibilities coming up, bills that will have to be paid. Not to mention a carousel of thoughts that include food, cats, boys, the vastness of the universe, and weed. It’s always something with my brain, and today, I’m just trying to focus on me in the present moment.
Birds are chirping, people are out and about with their classic cars, pets, and motorcycles, the sky is collecting clouds for the evening which is said to bring some more serious weather. I’m hoping for thundersnow, myself.
My mind is never in the present.
Example: My current thought is what if people went on walks with boomboxes instead of headphones again. What if we blasted Lady Gaga while we speed-walked down the street, dozens of neighbors joining me in their active wear to dance and parade down the streets, enjoying the exercise they feel they need to do (myself included in that). Why are we so hesitant to share joy with other people? Why have we become such private people in public and yet, at the same time, bare all on social media?
We’re all weird. I accept that truth whole-heartedly, some choose to ignore their weirdnesses. I just wonder if other people have the same issue; does everyone’s mind just take them into 14 different directions at one time and we decide which train of thought to purchase a ticket and board on to?
I always wind up on the crazy train.
Ehh? EHHhh? Pretty good one? Yeah? No? Well, eff you, then. You butt.
So last night I went with my friend Ben to see some comedians at a show in a city called St. Peter. We saw a fella by the name of Tim Harmstron. There was also a gal there by the name of Kate Anderson and a local fella. All were great, but Kate and Tim left me in stitches. It really helped me to see how to connect my life’s situations with laughter and comedy.
Kate was soooo fucking funny though. She asked the crowd if they smoked weed and talked about how people in the earlier show were afraid to admit smoking but we (the late show) were just all about it. Oh my god, she had a joke about bad haircuts that left me unable to breathe. But her shit was relatable. I think she said she was close to turning 50 and here I am close to turning 30 and the hilarious shit she talked about was also still relevant to my own situation at times. She has two rabbits. She said people can train their rabbits into plopping into kitty litter pans.
That’s dope af. I respect bunny owners. Bunnies are hard af.
Ps. “af” means “as fuck,” it’s what the new hip lingo is. And “hard af” does not mean that bunnies are physically hard in any way, they’re like super soft and squishy and stuff, but they’re hard in the sense that you know they grew up in the hood. They lived that full-on prey life. They will claw and bite a ma-fkah if they need to. Thus thusly, bunnies are hard af. Hood buns. With cute lil floofy boops for feet.
So yeah, both Kate and Tim were amazing. Tim was hilarious, too. His mother impression sounds just like my mother impression. I told him we may be related in that sense. Either I had lobsters coming out of my ears or the joke didn’t land… or maybe every person that approaches a comedian after the show tells them jokes and he was just over hearing other people’s shitty jokes. But he was funny! And that made it all worth it.
And by it, I mean a $20 cover. That’s a big deal for a southern yokel such as myself. But it was important to me to go to this show. Comedy is vital to my soul.
Laughing and comedy are so important to my spirit. Absolute food for the soul for me. I love laughing and I love making people laugh, too. I hope someday I’ll be able to get up on a stage. Baby steps…but, when I see people crack smiles or laugh out loud at something I do or say, it makes my whole universe shine a little brighter. But I think that sense of pride in making others smile goes back deep into my family lineage. All of my dad’s side of the family were story tellers and jokesters, pranksters and wise-cracks. We know the importance of a smile.
Sometimes just one smile can pull us from the deep mires of depression and anxiety.
So many comedians, themselves, battle the biggest internal monsters. Look at Chris Farley, Robin Williams, Mitch Hedberg, John Belushi – the list goes on. We all battle our demons by fighting them with laughter.
It feels so good to make someone else feel good. Even if only for a moment.
That’s what I try to do every single day of my life. Sometimes I succeed at this. Sometimes, I do not feel I do. Sometimes, when I don’t feel I have succeeded at it, other people show/tell me that I have and it feels great. Whether it’s jokes or my writing or just being a goofball with a stranger in the gas station, if I can make one person feel good or let their mind take a break from any kind of stress for one moment, it’s a good day.
Totally worth staying up late and sleeping in until 2 p.m. for.