Every so often one bad apple ruins it for the whole fruit bowl and I have to dismantle my comments. But I can't take them down forever, I feel disconnected, and that is a feeling that is akin to rocks in my socks, or some other rhyming concern.
So, write something funny, insightful, positive, and interesting -- I know you've got it in you.
This is my last night in London and I'm up way too late. My sleep schedule has been off ever since I got here. I usually stay up very late, I'm a late-y late night owl thanks to my family who were also late night people, often up into the wee hours, watching movies or stand up comedy and drinking tea and playing rummy and painting. (<-- acknowledgment of run-on sentence)
I'm sleeping at a friend's house named Tom Webb who has become a bosom buddy here in London. A gracious host and friend, I'm very lucky and glad to have met him. Again, my UK friends have been extremely watchful and caring of me and I'm kinda homesick and disoriented and lost half the time and can't figure out how to use simple things I took for granted at home, like my UK phone or public transportation, and it's nice to have good people who care nearby.
Jena is gone now, and it's sad. We were looking after each other -- whether we were running like scared puppies down rape alley together, or trying to calm irate cabbies, we had each other's backs. She's in Florence now, filming a feature film, and that is amazingly exciting. And on Monday, I'll be meeting up with Ben Lerman and Mike Amato, two good pals and two of the finest comedians I could ever wish to board for 3 weeks with.
Tom and his buddy on the tube, while some stranger girl stands in the background
I really miss my home and my bed, my friends and my cat, my zen garden and my firm mattress, my strange glass window bubble art and my odd wrought iron patio gate, my robin's egg blue walls and my often broken and food-odored elevator, my little wooden desk and my sweeping view of the lower east side. I always wanted to tour and travel and be in different cities and countries and here I am, doing it. It's amazing that I've made a living off writing songs, many about vaginas, and other things that scare people.
It's really late and I shouldn't even be awake, but I can't bring myself to just close my eyes and pass out.
Tomorrow I will be in another country and I'm looking forward to all the adventures that will take place there.
I have to take a train 5 hours tomorrow...uhhhghghhh...I forgot to pack my essential oils that I can sniff whenever I smell something offensive on public transportation. Speaking of smelling something offensive, a woman's perfume on the train was so noxious today that I actually had to get up and move to the far end of the car. I don't understand how she could have even sat next to herself. Ladies -- you don't have to do that to yourself or others. I think Rose scented witch hazel or oil is the most beautiful smell ever. And it isn't tested on furry critters, which is nice. I don't mean to be all bleeding lefty but seriously, have you ever SEEN those animal testing videos? Holy what-the-fuck. I don't understand how anyone could willingly, knowingly use anything by anyone who tortures a creature the way those animals are tortured.
Speaking of tortured animals, tonight I did an all gay man show called Duckie in Battersea. It was awesome. The gays love me. And I love the gays. Besides me, there were two whirling twirling ladies called The Bees Knees who were adorable and terrific. They reminded me of the O'Debra Twins from back in the day.
They came out onto the stage dressed as sailor girls and danced around for a bit, and then they ducked behind these tall babushka decorated tubes, and seconds later, magically popped out in different outfits and continued dancing. I still don't know how they did that quick change. It was impressive.
Ta-da!
OK, I'm going to try to get one hour's sleep before I have to go. It's been fun hanging out in London. I might even miss it a little bit.
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