Jessy Delfino's Blog

NOT AN ENTRY IN A WEEK - WHAT A LOSER I AM

Hello, readers of Jessy Delfino's blog, and to any empty computers that happen to have been left on with my blog page up, this is to the void in the chair in front of you.

I'd like to talk about what happened to me at brunch last Saturday, because it's been bothering me a lot.

I DID go to brunch for a second weekend in a row wiht a lady friend, who for the sake of our friendship, will remain anonymous. We found a cheapish place, only $10, for a three course meal. Nice, huh? So, things started out quite lovely. We drank some tea, ate some bread and a variety of yummy stuffs that you dip bread in, and were chatting like two old hens, when all of a sudden, we started talking about comedy. It's hard not to talk comedy, especially when you're both involved in that line of business.

I mentioned to her some other things that have happened since we last spoke. I had also told her a story that day about when I took a trip with the Trachtenburgs and opened up for Touching You, and had what might have been the all-time best set (reaction from the audience-wise) I've ever had, (the audience was chanting "Bring back Jessica!" when Touching You was on...) and it made her get very angry with me. She said she thinks I brag a lot and it makes her not want to be around me. She said that I don't have to sell myself to her.

I wanted to write about it because I feel like I did something wrong by telling her about some of the good things that have happened to me lately, but at the same time, I don't really feel like I did anything wrong. It really hurt my feelings that she told me not to share my TINY, almost INVISIBLE landmarks along the way, especially because compared to some of her achievements, mine are like bags of vomit with holes in them that are dripping all over the place and then there's no mop to clean it up so I have to use an article of my clothing, like my socks or something, because it's dripping somewhere very important, perhaps on important documents or a surface that could be affected by the stuff in vomit that makes model's and other non-skinny bulimics get spotty teeth. The acid.

After she yelled at me, which isn't actually true, she didn't raise her voice even a little bit, it was pretty much delivered in a spoken manner, but she might as well have stood on the table and screamed at me, because the way I felt afterwards was like she had done just that. We pretty much settled it and made up, and I think it's all fine now, but still, I had to digest it in my own way for a few days afterwards. The way I usually digest things is to think about them a lot. The more I think about them, the more I notice that the thought starts to hurt less each time it is thought about. Eventually, it doesn't hurt anymore at all, because I've resolved it from thinking about it so much. Or maybe it works the other way around. It doesn't hurt because I've thought about it so much, thus it is resolved.

Anyway, what I mostly settled on in my head is that this is a business that does so many evil things to people. It brings out the worst qualities in people. It brings out anger, fear, jealousy, it makes people lie, steal, beg, brag, it makes people sick. No matter if you're doing well or not, people are always looking at other people, thinking, "Why don't I have what THEY have?" and "HE doesn't deserve that. I deserve that."

When Kurt and I used to date, he got lots of stuff. Managers would CONSTANTLY give him their cards, managers of BIG agencies. People would interrupt our conversations to say good things to him and act like I wasn't even standing there ALL THE TIME. He'd get jobs, comedy work and all sorts of other perks and plusses and I'd get NOTHING. I'd get criticized behind my back by his friends, who would call me unfunny and his crappy comic girlfriend, and NO ONE took me seriously as a performer. I was his unwatchable dumb bitch. Then, a few people who he liked said they thought I was funny, and slowly, things started to change. I started to get some nice comments from people, and started to get a little bit of recognition. Though most of our peers didn't give a shit about me, people who I looked up to and admired all for the most part liked my comedy. Whenever I'd complain to Kurt that it hurt me that he'd pretend not to know me when we went to comedy clubs, he'd tell me to shut up and that was the way the business worked. Kurt pretty much helped to destroy every shred of self-esteem I had, because I believed all the evil shit he said. Then, I had to build it back up from nothing. Not an easy task.

I believe that there is a 'way' the 'business' 'works.' But I don't think it HAS to be the most evil way.

I've seen some interesting things happening around the comedy world. Ted Alexandro and Russ Meneve are spearheading a project to try to get working comics in NYC a unionized payrate, which would be a valuable change. Comedians who can't get spots at clubs or don't want to play the social ladder climbing game (because that's most of what getting booked at clubs is about) have started their own rooms and shows. I can't get booked at Eating It, which I think I've mentioned before, because Jeff Singer thinks I'm too alternative. My bf is planning on passing out pro-Delfino flyers at the show tonight. I don't necessarily think that's the BEST plan, and I wouldn't do it, and I don't necessarily condone or detest the idea, but I think it's an interesting option that I haven't seen other people do yet.

When I talk about my very miniscule achievements, like a review in JANE or a write up in this or that, that's all it is, a VERY MINISCULE achievement. Believe it or not, it doesn't mean that all of a sudden my phone is ringing and everyone wants to buy Delfino. When I was on Good Morning America, I REALLY EXPECTED the phone to begin ringing immediately with star makers offering me parts in movies and chauffered cars to luncheons here or there. What I realized is that I have a LONG, LONG way to go, and the road is infinite, paved with millions and millions of tiny blurbs in papers. I still need about 15 million more of 15 million other things to happen before I can sit back and relax.

Whatever achievements I have to share with my friends and family, I expect them to share something in return. Some are going to share appreciation for the fact that someone is paying attention out there in la la land. Some are going to be proud or happy to know me. Others are going to be angry or confused, thinking, why her and not me? But my FRIENDS? I expect them to celebrate the small successes of my journey, and I plan to celebrate theirs, also.

I'd never be angry if a friend shared their accomplishments with me. I hear of great things happening to friends all the time, and it makes me have faith in the world for brief moments, because if my friends are getting acknowledgement, then someone is doing something right, and I know the people who DESERVE attention are getting it.

And don't worry, girlfriend, SHITLOADS of things are going wrong in my life on a daily basis, but I have a feeling that conversation/laundry list would be even MORE annoying to hear over brunch.

But here's just a few, maybe to negate the good things you might have heard from me:

- I have no place to live (Sure, I'm crashing at my bosses place for a few months but then he's moving in, and I have to go.)
- I'm 28 with no plans in sight as far as marriage or family - that is daunting to a woman who's youth and eggs are about to hold hands and jump into the river.
- I just had my license suspended and if you heard the story, you'd be APPALLED.
- My boyfriend can't stop telling me about all the girls he wants to fuck who aren't me. (Because he believes in TOTAL honesty.)
- I have a crying problem, and I can't stop crying ever.
- The only men who care about me are freaky creeps who just like me because my jokes are all about pussy.
- I've got some wierd rash on my thigh that looks like either cancer or AIDS, and it's crawling up closer to my vagina on a daily basis. I'm afraid when it gets there, it's going to eat my fallopean tubes.
- I can't get booked at comedy clubs.
- My peers all think I'm insane (and everyone else does, too.)
- I've had a body quaking cough for over a month.
- I've got over 20 grand in college debt.

It's hard to guess what people want to hear. Do they want to hear good things or bad things? When I say good things, I hear complaints that I'm bragging. When I say bad things, I hear complaints that I'm complaining. I guess I should just work more on being funny and less on being honest.

Here's a joke:

How do you know that a boy is being raped by the priest at his church?
- The boy acts strange at church.

ha HA!

If you want to hear more, I'm doing a show tomorrow night at a place called RAGA.

It's called Chicks and Giggles. It's at 433 East 6th St. at 8:30PM.

Hope you can make it. I'll be there, talking about things both good and bad.