Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I know a blog is for communicating complex math-based codes to extra-terrestrials, but for a moment, I would like to address what's happening in my life as if this website were an outlet.
I got schooled by my fiance and fellow-comedian Luke Thayer tonight. We were talking about a show he did at Karma that was a booked open mic and turned out to have ample audience but a dearth of performers. Result: he got, and made use of, gratuitous stage time. I explained the lack of performers by musing that a lot of comics might not FEEL like doing open mics, and he shook his head in disbelief. I indignantly added, "Some comics might prefer to grow by folding socks and eating cereal."
Writing you on this blog right now is in violation of my sister's plan, "Operation: Comedy on the Shelf While Wedding Gets Planned", and contradicts Luke's mantra that I need to do less in order to focus on stand-up comedy more.
I amuse readers here, I write reviews of shows on a comedy site, I write funny paragraphs for a parenting blog, I tape and edit a weekly parody of the First Lady, I produce a live comedy hour twice a month (featuring new material in the form of characters or the latest version of my stand-up act), and I raise eight newborn children in addition to my six toddlers.
This would not be so bad if I didn't also insist on networking via Twitter, Facebook and Myspace, and writing dozens of e-mails a day. All while juggling the minutiae of constructing a wedding (convincing Luke that white tuxedos are for anthropologists). I need the antidote for this poison called activity overload. The good thing about NYC is the possibilities are endless for what you can do creatively. It's like college. Remember how excited you were by the prospect that ANYone could be a campus DJ? The down-side is you lose track of time and fail your Map of the Modern World class, and suddenly you can't GIVE your Limp Bizkit cds away.
Spreading thin only works for Vegemite, and even that's debatable.
Written by Abbi Crutchfield
Labels: Real Life