Here’s your $100, D-man.

DδΨξΘω?

 

This is the first time in my life I’ve lived in a building with a reliable super.  When he shows up, he gets shit done.  And with a smile.  This is new for me.  Most of my experiences in NYC housing have been pulling teeth with a cheap and mean/rude/abusive landlord.  (One time, I called my former landlord when the electricity went out.  His reply?  “It’s night time, what do you need electricity for?  Go to sleep.”)  But now, I have a great super.  He’s good with elevator chit-chat and he’s fast with a drill.  And thus, he deserves to be thanked at end-of-year-holiday-thanking time.

But alas, there’s one thing about him that sucks.  I have no idea what his name is.  Well, I can say it, sort of, I just can’t spell it.  And without knowing that, it’s hard to drop $100 into a personalized card — it just feels awkward.  It’s either Dimitri, Demitri, Demetri, Demetrius, or Demitre.  Or something like that.  And there’s no way to find out.  This year I thought we’d found our answer when we got a holiday card from him.  Finally!  It was signed, I swear, “Super and family” — no names.  He’s like a spy or something.

How bad is it to get a greeting card with your name completely misspelled?  Does the $100 soften the blow?  I think I’ll just fill out the card, “Roger, happy holidays to you and yours.”  That way, I’m so far off that it’s funny and he’ll think I’m being a kooky kook.  Good plan, right?  Who doesn’t love a kooky kook card with cash in it?

December 22, 2010 at 9:33 pm Leave a comment

The 9 to 5.

It’s officially been six months since I’ve had an office job.  Here are the pros and cons as I see them.

Pros: Each day is my own.  I am my own boss.  I control the dress code, the sexual harassment policy, the vacation schedule, the company holiday card and the coffee break timetable.  It’s all mine and there’s a sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing that the money I earn is earned doing what I love doing and what I am meant to be doing.  Each day my hands move toward the goal of making myself completely aligned and in flow with my ultimate purpose.  It’s enormously satisfying and fulfilling.

Cons: I don’t drink as much water as I used to.

That’s how I see it.  Now, back to work.

December 12, 2010 at 4:53 pm 2 comments

With friends like this, who needs frenemies?

Recently, I was hanging out with three “friends” and the topic of cosmetic surgery came up.  Here is how the conversation went.  This conversation was rapid-fire after the first sentence.

Carrie: A friend of mine got a minor procedure done and I never thought I would say it, but the results are amazing and I might want it done, too.  She just looks so good.
Friend #1: What is it?  Botox for the lines on your forehead?
Friend #2: Teeth whitening for your discolored and yellow teeth?
Friend #3: Or Invisalign to correct the crookedness?
Carrie: No.
F1: An arm tuck for the flapping sagging skin on your upper arms?
Carrie: No.  What the fuck, you guys.
F2: Liposuction for the jiggle around your tummy, ass and thighs?
F3: Skin bleaching for your disgusting freckles?
Carrie: No.  Alright, I get it guys. Come on.
F1: Nose slimming for the chunky end of your nose?
F2: Crescent breast lift for your sagging boobs?
Carrie: What? Really? No.
F3: Filler for the lines around your mouth?
F2: Eyelid fat reduction for those drooping eyelids?
Carrie: Is that even a thing?  No.

And so on.

Oh, how they laughed and laughed at my plummeting self-esteem.  Good stuff.

December 5, 2010 at 6:52 pm Leave a comment

Have car, will drive.

Usually, when my father asks me if I want to use his car during the winter while he’s in Mexico, I laugh in his face and say, “Hells no, my Pap-dawg!  I ain’t need no hassle of gassin’ it and worryin’ about it and dealin’ wit’ no alt’nate side o’ the street bullshnizz and diggin’ it out of the snow and shizz.  Keep yo’ crazy car, old man, keep it!”  (I’m paraphrasing.)

This year however, I got struck by a whim.  I said to myself: “Think Carrie.  If you had a car, you could more easily get to those gigs in Jersey or Connecticut or north of The Bronx without as much of an issue.  You’d be free to take any gig and you could get really well known across the country and become really famous and invest wisely in your fame and retire and take a nap.”  And I love naps so I accepted my father’s generous offer.  He added me to his insurance and suddenly, I have a car.

This last week, I lived the dream.  I booked a gig in Long Island and chauffeured myself and another comic to it.  (By the way, this particular gig was so inaccessible via public transportation that when I asked Google maps about it, Google went into a weeping trembling coma.)  We did the gig and I drove us back to civilization.  A mini-roadtrip!

And yesterday, I chauffeured a comic to his gig north of the city and he actually paid me.  We got there and I did 23 seconds of crowd-work before introducing him.  We had a giggly comic-bonding ride there and back.  And, bonus: he had a GPS device which is really the only way to travel when you have no idea where you’re going.  AND… I faced my fear of driving on the streets of Manhattan, which I have been raised since birth to fear.  Go me.

Anyway, I have a car and I want to drive it.  If you’re a comic and you need a ride to a gig, I’ll trade you a ride for a spot.  Or money.  Or both.  (Depends on the gig.)  Let’s live the dream!

October 3, 2010 at 7:59 pm Leave a comment

How long you been doing it?

At some point, when two comics are getting to know each other, one will inevitably ask the other one, “How long you been doing it?”  It’s kind of like asking someone what their major is or what they do for a living.  It’s a getting-to-know-you type of question.  But, of course, it’s wrought with judgment thusly:

If the comedian really sucks, and they’ve been doing it 10 years, you think to yourself, “Holy shit, 10 years and you still suck? What happened? I’m so glad I’m not you.”

If the comedian is amazingly excellent and they’ve been doing it five months, you think to yourself, “Holy shit, five months and you’re already that good already?  Damn you!” And no matter how good they are, no matter how they shred an audience into strips, if they’ve only being doing it five months, they’re still considered a newborn.  There’s a kind of paying-your-dues that they still have to endure. Where is the cut-off for earned industry respect?  I’m not entirely sure.

The thing that I always want to ask is:  How intensive was the time that you’ve been doing stand-up?  Assuming natural talent is equal, if you’ve gotten on stage once every six months for the last 10 years, yeah, you might still suck.  And if you’ve been getting up three times a night for the last five months, yeah, you might be really really good. A better question is: How many times have you been on stage in the time you’ve been doing stand-up?  I’m not sure if every comedian knows that number but I know mine (and I have no idea how it compares, incidentally).

I’ve been doing it just over three years — still a baby in the eyes of the industry.  But the very first time I ever got on stage alone to tell original jokes to a live audience was one night two years before that.  Should I count that?  If that’s the case, I can legitimately answer five years.  But I don’t count that. I count the day I said, “I want to be an stand-up comedian,” and quivered on stage for the first time — and then started getting up regularly.

One time, I asked a comedian how long she’d been doing it and she simply answered, “I don’t answer that.”  On the one hand, that’s a little snotty, but on the other hand, she was saying that her comedy should speak for itself.  If she’s good, she’s good, and it shouldn’t matter how long she’s been doing it.  It’s a good point.  But I still wanted to know, y’know, to judge her and stuff.

September 12, 2010 at 2:58 pm 1 comment

How the show goes.

After doing comedy a while, I’ve noticed that there is a science to whether or not I have a good set on a given night.  And since a picture speaks a thousand words, I have created this handy chart to illustrate the results of my scientific research.  Here is how you can know how your set will go:

That’s all there is to it.  I hope this research helps a young aspiring comedian out there.

August 29, 2010 at 10:03 pm 1 comment

Things that scare me.

Not that you asked, but here is a list of my fears, from most to least feared:

  1. Being on the subway with no reading material.
  2. Dunkin’ Donuts employees.
  3. Death.
  4. Big mean dogs.
  5. Unknowingly going on stage with some kind of stain on my crotch.

It feels good to share.

July 18, 2010 at 8:24 pm 1 comment

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Come see me!

Next shows:

Thursday, December 1st
9:30
Ed Sullivan On Acid Comedy Show
The Duplex
61 Christopher St
New York, NY

Sunday, December 11th
8:30
Jazz on the Park

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