I had the best thing happen this week. I got into my car after performing Motherload, turned on the radio and heard myself interviewing someone. What? WHAT! It wasn’t an ego trip. It just felt fucking rad to be out there in 2 places at once doing what I love the most. Because when I’m on stage or on the radio talking to you I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. It feels full and right and the gratitude is so big I can hardly contain it. I’m slightly afraid the “bigness” is going to crack my ribs open and start shooting spikes of pleasure everywhere, impaling people with my love.
So, all Canadians will understand the excitement I had in getting to interview Cathy “This Hour Has 22 Minutes” Jones. My mother is rolling in her grave she’s so proud. Not only is this woman a Canadian icon, she’s connected to her emotions and hilarious and bad ass and poised. Click below to have your heart blasted.
And then I opened MOTHERLOAD, a new dark comedy about contemporary parenting, Being in this show is as close as I’ll ever get to feeling like a rockstar, performing for a sold-out house of hysterically laughing moms. On Saturday night backstage we were high 5-ing and jumping up and down, it was so fun to hear the audience freaking out, like screaming and bouncing out of their seats and shit. We were all high as kites on the adrenaline of making people happy.
And then of course, because I don’t know how to limit a good thing, I invited my heart/soul/comedy mentor Cathy Jones to the Sunday Matinee. And it was a totally different show. Not a peep. Not a chuckle. Dead silence. I tap danced like a monkey, hoping to push the audience into loving me but all there was…was quiet. And I’d go backstage writhing, no, noooooooo, nooooooooo, not when Ms. Cathy Jones is here. Not a shit show today?! Puhhhhhllllease no!!!!
But of course it was. That’s how life works. When you care the most, you suck the hardest.
I went into the lobby after and she was gracious and hugged me and said the show was sad and intense (it’s billed as a hysterical comedy) and I gave her the snack pack I made her for the plane (“too far” is my middle name) and she left.
Point being. Being seen has its good days and bad days and today I wanna wack my head against a tree till I can damage the synapse that carries the memory of that show.
My Stage Manager made me feel better. She said “shows are alive and they shift and change and do as they will. You can’t control them. You are only in them.” So that’s pretty magical.
Thank you Cathy “motherfucking” Jones for coming to my show. And thank you for understanding that the tap dancing monkey was all for you.
That said, this hilarious smash-hit comedy closes in a week so if you are in Vancouver, please come.
Let us let it all be seen.
All my love.