May 22, 2004

"Cereal is gay."

Despite getting quite literally not a wink of sleep last night and having to effect perkiness for client meetings' sake, I made it home and to the verge of rest, which is where I perch. I worked until 5:30 a.m. or thereabouts, and then tried to capture the 120 or so minutes of sleep still left to me, but I couldn't do it. Damned birds. Damned cold feet. Damned ideas. Damned passage of time. It's a wonder I am here. And if sugar-free Red Bull causes cancer, I would rather not know. I just plain couldn't go on without it.

I was noticed tonight for my deadpan delivery, which is a greater feather in my cap than anyone probably suspects. It's not something I was ever sure I could pull off, and it's taken time to navigate that precarious line as a girl on stage. It's been important to feel finally disconnected from that approval system that is the very heroin I seek. The only way to be a girl in the funny business is to not care and to not look as if you're trying. And occasionally to put unpleasant things in your mouth when no one's expecting it. And I'm kind of a giggly sort that spoils punchlines or that can't let them hang. So to have at last developed the wry reputation is a boon. And it makes it easier for me to get away with saying horrible things that involve diseases or urine or the uterus or the savior. And several people told me I should play more often, and that made me feel really good. I had a better run in the joke-telling games tonight than I can remember ever having had, and I never used an old joke of mine or a joke of anyone else's. Never not once. I didn't have to, for some reason. There just kept being new stuff to say. Don't ask me how that happens. I just like it when the compromising ache of overextension manages to squeeze something out of me, and I don't question it. There's been a great deal of that lately. And as tired and frail as I feel, I am terribly terribly grateful for it. That sounds insincere. Especially now that the whole deadpan thing has taken hold. But I mean it. I'm better off than I've ever been in nearly every way.

My burning eyes are tired. I will look for pretty pictures in my dreams.

You made me smile again. In fact, I may be sore from it.

posted by Mary Forrest at 2:43 AM | Back to Monoblog


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