Happy Friday everybody! I have to say, you guys are amazing. I was in need of some inspiration, and you all provided it in spades. So to show my gratitude, I present to you, the gift of a good laugh.
Now here it is, the only gift worth giving, Friday Stand-up!
First, is a comedian I’ve featured before, this time doing one of my favorite bits, Tig Notaro:
Second, is a very funny comedian, Vince Morris:
Have a great weekend!!
Trail Tuesdays is my attempt to memorialize my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. The A.T. is a long distance hiking trail that runs from Springer Mountain in Georgia, to Mt. Katahdin in Maine- you can read all about the trail here or here. You can read previous parts of Trail Tuesdays here.
I didn’t want to get too comfortable, knowing that the next morning we would be back in the cold and the rain, back on the trail.
Worrying about the next day’s hike had become a bad habit. I would pour over the elevation maps and trail descriptions, the mountains growing larger and the climbs steeper in my mind each time I looked a the maps. I would obsess over the mileage, fearing that I wouldn’t be able to hike as far as we had planned. As usual, the next morning I found that my concerns had been overblown, and my sleepless night, spent fretting over the cold and the rain, was for naught. The morning started out foggy, but soon the sun was shining, and the temperature rose to a balmy fifty degrees.
About halfway through the day I reached the peak of Wayah Bald. It was always a bit disorienting to find development on top of a mountain, and as I emerged from the woods, I was met with the sight of a parking area, toilets, a paved walkway, and a stone lookout tower. Dripping sweat, having just spent over two hours hiking up the side of the mountain, I felt a little defeated seeing a fresh smelling couple strolling hand in hand from their car towards the peak.
When I reached the tower, I dropped my pack and climbed the steps to the top, where I found E and Mike talking to a small woman with two long pig tails. She had breezed by me on the trail earlier while I was taking break with a quick “Everything okay, hon?” I disliked her instantly.
“This is Hippy. She thru-hiked a couple of years ago and is out hiking for a couple of weeks.” E told me through gritted teeth. It seems I wasn’t alone in my opinion of this woman. Apparently, for the fifteen minutes before I arrived Hippy told E and Mike and anyone else who would listen about all the things we were doing wrong on our hike, and how when she thru-hiked “things were just so much better.”
“Fucking know-it-all. I hope we don’t see her again.” I grumbled to E when we finally started hiking again that afternoon.
“You can count on it.”
The first person I saw when I got to the shelter that night was, of course, Hippy, this time foisting her views on a couple in their early sixties. When they finally politely, yet firmly, extracted themselves (Hippy moved seamlessly on to another unsuspecting hiker), the couple introduced themselves as Doc and Virginia Creeper. I loved them instantly. Doc told me that he and Virginia had met only five years earlier at a Appalachian Trail conference, had fallen madly in love, and were recently married. Doc was attempting to thru-hike and Virginia was joining him on several sections of the trail.
That night we were packed into the small shelter like sardines, eight of us in a space designed to sleep six at most, when the wind picked up and hail started to pound the tin roof.
“Oh, this is so not good.” Hippy told us all. “If it starts lightening, we’re total goners. When I thru-hiked, I knew two people who got struck by lightening. So not good.”
“We’ll be alright, there are plenty of tall trees around.” Doc said, giving me a knowing smile.
“I guess….”
Though no one got much sleep that night, we all survived, and over the next two days E, Mike, and I hiked over an endless stream of peaks and valleys, gladly walking further than Hippy, but sadly also Doc and Virginia Creeper. At one point, I hypothesized that the trail builder was a sadist, and asked E “why else would they put the trail right up the side of a fucking mountain, only to go right the fuck back down, and then right the fuck back up another one?” The trail in the Southern part of the Appalachian trail is known for its numerous steep climbs and descents. Instead of following ridge lines, much of the trail in the South crosses ridges, which means hauling yourself, and your pack, up and down tall mountains, all day long.
At the end of the second day, I came across E sitting on a rock, crying. Next to her was a sign for a spur trail, indicating that it was just a 1/10th of a mile to the shelter where we were staying that night.
“I’m exhausted.” She told me through her tears. “Nothings wrong, I just can’t stop crying.” I knew what she meant. At the end of most days, not only was I physically spent, but I was at the bottom emotional reserves, too, leaving little barrier to hold back whatever raw emotion that came bubbling up. It was why we laughed so hard our stomaches hurt at anything remotely funny, but also why the tears were so quick to flow.
“You know what we need?” I said as I helped her back to her feet, “A little mommying.”
The next day we hiked twelve miles in record time to get just that. We reached Fontana Dam before noon that day, where we had arranged to meet my Mom and spend the night at the Fontana Village Resort, which rented rooms at a discount to hikers. It was just what we needed. My Mom, a southern momma through and through, took us to lunch, fussed over our injuries, ferried us to do errands, and told us over and over how proud she was of us.
In the morning, she pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted to go home with her; she was worried about the state of my feet, and my knees, which had mysteriously swelled over night.
“Honey, ya’ll could just come with me for a couple of days and rest and I’ll bring you right back here when you’ve mended.”
“No, I’m okay, I promise.” I said, almost as much to convince myself that it was the truth. While taking a few days off and being cared for sounded wonderful, I knew I needed to keep moving. It was almost a surprise to myself to find that I actually wanted to keep moving. Fontana Dam was entrance to the Smokies, one of the most beautiful parts of the trail. In fact it was a hike in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park with my dad almost ten years prior that had introduced me to the Appalachian Trail, and I was excited to be in familiar territory.
At the entrance to the park stood a ridge runner, keeping a record of the hikers that entered. While Mike, E, and I stood there talking to him, another hiker walked by.
“Trail name?” the ridge runner asked him.
“Turbo.” the hiker, a young guy with longish brown hair and a beard, answered, and kept walking without even glancing in our direction.
E and I rolled our eyes at each other, assuming that the hiker adopted this trail name as a reflection of his attitude about hiking, full speed ahead.
The ridge runner then asked each of us for our trail names, writing them in a notebook. When he got to me, he asked, “Do you have a trail name?”
As I had countless times before to the same question, I answered “Nope, not yet.”
“Well there you go,” he said, “you’ve got a trail name.”
And with that, I became known to the trail community as Not Yet.
After my flurry of stand-up related posts of a month ago, you might have noticed that I haven’t had much to say about comedy for awhile. There is a reason for this silence. I’ve hit a wall. The last show I did was June 2nd, and I haven’t written anything new since May. I want to be performing (I do, actually, have a show tomorrow), but the truth is I need some new material. My set is filled with jokes I’ve fine tuned over months, I know exactly where the laughs are coming, I’ve worked them to death, and now I need to find something new. I want to write something I can be excited and nervous about. Something that sounds fresh coming out of my mouth, and that I’m unsure of.
Problem is, I’m lacking inspiration. I sit down to write, and nothing comes to mind. The harder I try, the less I can concentrate. I’m not sure if I’m ever going to have another funny thought. I’ve hit a major road block.
I need some outside help, and I’m turning to you. Please help me jump start my very, very blank mind.
Tell me, what is something that tickles you? Or makes you roll your eyes? Or that you find terribly ironic? Or what is your pet peeve? Or a story that you found completely ridiculous? Anything, something…did I mention that you are the best?
TGIF! Watch what you wish for kids. When I said I could use a week in bed off of work, I didn’t really imagine the fever, aches, and swollen tonsils that went with it. I actually WENT in to work yesterday I was so bored, and they sent me home. I am feeling much better today, but I’m still at home because I think my coworkers are afraid I am going to infect them. Hey! You know what goes with sick talk? That’s right, stand-up comedy!
So, here it is, the cure to end all cures, Friday Stand-up!
This first comedian is Wyatt Cenac, who you might recognize as the newest correspondant on the Daily Show:
The second clip is from the Sklar Brothers:
Have a great weekend!
COMING NEXT WEEK: The return of Trail Tuesdays!!!!
I’m sitting at home today because I seem to have contracted what, over my lifetime, is probably my bazillionth case of strep throat. When I was four, a doctor told my parents that I should probably have my tonsils out because I had a proclivity to strep and bronchitis, but they said noooooooo, not our little girl, she’s not having unnecessary surgery. Thanks Mom and Dad.
Oh, and…I can’t even lay on the couch and watch bad movies because there is a plumber in our t.v. room (family room? den? whatever you call it). When we got home from our weekend away, we found that the room had flooded. AGAIN. All over our brand new carpet. Sweet.
Oh, and…all this rain finally spurred us to get the window in our Red car, which had fallen off track and refused to roll up or down, fixed before we left for our trip this weekend. I drove our Blue car (yes we actually refer to them as the Red car and the Blue car) to drop BF off to pick up the newly fixed Red car, feeling pretty darn grown-up since we would usually ignore problems like that, and as I pulled into our garage and began to roll up the Blue car window, IT fell off track and now refuses to roll up or down. Bastard.
Oh, and…within the last two days our two personal computers have decided to quit for various reasons that six hours on the phone with the people at Dell couldn’t even come close to figuring out, so I’m writing this, possibly illegally, on my work laptop (don’t ask me why two people need three computers, because as it turns out they most definitely do). Son of a Bitch.
I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time lately thinking about my weight. Scratch that. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of my life thinking about my weight. The only time in my life that I’ve ever felt comfortable with my body is when I was hiking the AT. So let’s see, since I became aware of my weight in the third grade, I’ve been happy with myself for…a whooping 4 months of my life. Wow, that’s sad. Think of all the time I’ve wasted hating my body, and all the things I could have done instead.
I’ve made a decision, I want this past weekend to be the last event where I spend the whole night worried about how I look. I don’t want to spend time in another hotel bathroom berating myself while I could be busting a move on the dance floor. I promise not to talk about it too much here, because how annoying is the person who goes on and on about how she looks (seriously, its half of the reason I want to lose weight, I’m annoying myself and everyone else around me)?
So here is my goal, by my 31st birthday in November, I want to lose 21 pounds.
I figure, putting it out there so I feel some internet peer pressure worked for the half-marathon, so hopefully it will work again. Because I’m tired of hating what I see when I look in the mirror. After 30 years, I’m boring everyone.
Update: I just reread this post. I’m having a hard time putting my thoughts into words, but I feel like this post makes it sound like I think losing weight will solve my problems, which trust me, I know it won’t. Really, I just want to be happy with myself, and if I’m unhappy, I want it to be for reasons less superficial. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin, to stop wasting my time and energy on negative thoughts, and to be proactive about something that makes me feel insecure. Does that make sense? Hello? Is this thing on?
So I took all of the very thoughtful advice you guys gave on surviving this weekend and after much consideration decided that you were right- drunk may very well be the way to handle things. Right now though, I’m sitting on the deck at my in-laws, drinking coffee, reading a book, and thinking about how happy I am not to be at work. And you know what goes best with all this relaxation? That’s right, laughing.
So here it is, the best match for your morning coffee since cream, Friday Stand-up!
First, for all you math nerds out there is the very funny musical comedy duo, Hard n’ Phirm, with Mike Phirman and Chris Hardwick (who you might remember as the host of MTV’s Singled Out) and their tribute to Pi:
Second, is a comedian who is new to me, Marianne Sierk:
Have a great weekend!
Well, first of all, look at me using blogging as a verb. Just call me Sister Fancy Pants Blogger Jones. Or not. Whatever.
Secondly, to answer my own question- I’m blogging from the car! While its moving! For some unknown reason the IT department thought that I needed a broadband card for my work laptop, so here I am somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania, typing away on the computer while BF drives us to His Hometown, East Coast for the wedding of one of his oldest childhood friends. Cool, right?
So I’ll probably still be putting out posts even though we’ll be out of town because BF is in the wedding, and I don’t really know anyone, and I’m going to need a distraction from feeling self-conscious around his friends’ skinny-ass girlfriends. Or maybe I’ll just stay drunk all week.
E and I were way too excited. It was the first time in a month and a half that we were going to take a day off from hiking and not only that, we were going to take two. In a row! We kept telling people that we were going on vacation, though in reality we were renting a car, driving from New Jersey, where we were currently hiking, to Virginia for the annual gathering of AT hikers. We were eager to catch up with friends we had made along the trail, but had since lost. We heard from other hikers that Mike was going to be there, we hadn’t seen him in almost two months.
“Mikenango!!!” I yelled, spotting him across a field of tents and hikers.
After big hugs, Mike introduced us to BF, a hiker we had heard about often, but had never met. I was told that BF was moving to Chicago after the trail to live with his girlfriend, so I had been leaving him funny messages in the trail registries, joking that he and I would become best friends as soon as we met because we had so much in common. I had taken to calling him BFB in my notes or “Best Friend B”.
BF was soft spoken, with the customary hiker’s beard, a mess of curly brown hair, and a big pair of the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.
“Its funny you called me BFB” he said, “those are my actual initials.”
We parted ways, making plans to meet up later. I scanned the crowds all day, hoping to catch a glimpse of his curly head. When we finally found each other that night, after more than a few beers, I pulled up a lawn chair next to BF.
“Alright.” I announced, “if we are going to be best friends, you are going to have to tell me everything about yourself.”
***********************************
“Maybe we could stop by [Childhood YMCA Camp] on our way to your brother’s house.” BF suggested casually.
I had told him a million stories about the place that held my happiest childhood memories, it was where I escaped from my parent’s nasty separation and divorce, where I had my first kiss, where I met one of my oldest and best friends, BB. I was excited to finally show it to him.
As we walked around the grounds, I babbled non-stop. “Oh, wow, this was the first cabin I stayed in!” “Look at this, I stayed in a tent out here when I was in counselor training.” “Ha! This is where BB and I got caught smoking cigarettes when we were 16!”
“Is this the place you said you pictured yourself getting married?” BF asked when we reached the outdoor chapel where the camp holds its talent shows and end of session vespers.
“Wha? Oh, yeah, I guess…OH LOOK, the climbing tower!” I exclaimed, and dragged him along.
Twenty minutes later we had walked to the fire circle.
“Isn’t it pretty…I love how it looks out on the lake! We used to have our opening campfire here!”
“Would you like to get married here?”
“What are you talking about…” I turned around to find BF on one knee, a perfect little ring sitting in the palm of his hand.
**************************************
“Good morning” BF said sleepily as NPR pierced my consciousness this morning. And then, like he says every morning, “How about 10 more minutes?”
“Yeah…an anniversary snooze…”
I dragged myself out of the shower, still trying to wake up, and hear BF in the kitchen making the coffee. He doesn’t have anywhere to be this morning, but like always, he got up with me.
“What can I pack you for lunch?”
As I do everyday, I replied “Your butt. With a side of butt.”
“I love you” he says, and kisses me as I head out the door.
“I love you, too.” I tell him, and think, as I do everyday, that I couldn’t possibly love him more than I do at this very minute.
Happy Anniversary, BF, you are the best thing that ever happened to me.
Yo, Friday. Whats happening? You come here often? You’re looking pretty awesome today. I like your new haircut. That new shirt is totally slimming. Huh? What me? Buttering you up? So that you’d accelerate the work part of the day so we can get to the weekend part of you? Okay, you’ve got me, guilty as charged. What’s that, Friday? One way to make the workday go faster is to watch really funny stand-up? Thanks, Friday, don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not the best, because you are. You really are.
Here’s to making the workday shorter- Friday Standup!
First, is the very funny Jasper Redd (I think I tried to post this video before unsuccessfully):
Second, since he was a hit last week, is one of my favorite Matt Braunger jokes:
Have a great weekend!
