Friday, February 12, 2021

Number 2... and that ain't bad

Sometimes I wish the 1997 romantic comedy Picture Perfect had been more popular. It would make my references to the movie 20+ years later a little less random.

Jennifer Aniston and Jay Mohr played unlikely loves back in what I refer to as romantic comedy's "moment." If my taste in movies is any indication, that "moment" lasted about 30 years. Sure, many plot points did not stand the test of time, like carrying around photos in your wallet in order to show people the person you're dating. But one B line plot that stuck with me was Jennifer Aniston's ad exec success when she pitched Gulden's mustard to embrace being the second most popular brand of mustard... "and that ain't bad."

Naturally the folks at Gulden's loved it. And young women everywhere learned to embrace being second best or accepting their second best attempts at love, a career or whatever may be.

From that moment on, second seemed just as good as first. Or, if not AS good, then slightly not as good, but in a way we're OK with. There's a life lesson there for sure.

Second best can be empowering. There is success in nearly making it to the top of any field. Silver medalists are medalists after all. 

But there is one place where second best does not feel as amazing, and that is in the eyes of your children.

My son loves me. I know that because he tells me all the time. He tells me he loves me when he wants some apple cider. He tells me he loves me when he wants to watch TV. He tells me he loves me when he doesn't want to take a bath. I feel loved. Emotionally manipulated, but loved.

It is hard to deny where you stand in the rankings when that same son who showers you with pre-meditated love also seemingly ignores you when it comes time to show some love.

My son had two days of school this week. This is part of a larger problem of why I (and millions of other working women) are cracking up and literally at the end of our ropes. But I'm not here to address that. Thankfully plenty of publications are doing that here, herehere, and here. I'm here because it takes so little attention and acknowledgment of all we are doing in this moment to fuel us further. My husband and daughter show their love and support in cooking, baking and giant hugs. My son... oh, my son...

My son was given two opportunities this week to work on art projects to bring home "for someone you love." The first day, he brought home a beautiful card with 3-D cut out hearts that had been colored with love "For My Valentine." Inside it read: To dad. I am obviously well adjusted enough to understand why a sweet boy would choose his incredible dad to address his first Valentine to. I chose the same man to be my Valentine after all.

On day 2, he returned home with a more intricate art project depicting a rocket and a heart. Now you are probably wondering: who does he love "to the moon and back." And you will probably not be surprised to find out that again, it was addressed: To dad.

I'm fine with it. It didn't break my homeschooling heart. It didn't crush the spirit of this boo-boo kissing powerhouse. It didn't tear at the fabric of my sandwich prepping, stain-removing, bedtime story reading, bed-making being. It's cool. As Jennifer Aniston once taught me: I'm number 2... and that ain't bad.

Ironically, or perhaps tellingly, I followed this week's events up with a comedy contest in which I came in, you guessed it: second place. Still number 2... and that ain't bad! 

So, in my best Carrie Bradshaw impression... I had to wonder: If number 2 ain't that bad, how come it feels not so good? If I didn't take so much time practicing my comedy, could I be number one in my son's heart? Or if I leaned in to being the second best parent, took the L and freed up some spare time, could I pull up my ranking on comedy contests?

The answer is no. I wouldn't want to do either of those things, partially because I am lazy and those options involve me working harder and partly because neglecting my son seems wrong. Attractive, but wrong.

I am doing OK. Things are fine. I can truly say with all my heart: I'm Number 2... and that ain't bad.

To Dad, with love

Saturday, January 23, 2021

What Time Is It??

I don't do vision boards or resolutions. I like the idea of both, but I have a short attention span and a terrible memory. I prefer to have weirdly specific things that would make me happy if one day I were to achieve them with no set timeframe, just an intention, a direction to head in if you will. 
tl/dr: I'm lazy, but with goals.

One of these goals was having a reason to make a composite flyer of "Upcoming Shows" as opposed to my usual single flyer: "My Next Show."

I have a few shows coming up in the next couple of days and in addition to wanting to promote the events, I also wanted to acknowledge that having small, seemingly insignificant goals in life can be a nice thing when said small goals are achieved. It is significant to me, and so I wanted to share here. I'm uncomfortable publicly indulging my pride, but I think of this more as event promotion versus self promotion, so stick with me on this.

Hope you can join me for one of my upcoming shows: (I've always wanted to say that!)

Sunday, January 24, 2021: Phase II at Bustan Tickets here

Tuesday, January 26, 2021: Penthouse Comedy in Brooklyn Tickets/Location here

Wednesday, January 27, 2021: Uncle Clyde's Comedy Show at Flappers, Burbank Zoom Tickets here

Tuesday, February 2, 2021: Meat Me Here Presents Groundhog Day at the Gansevoort Tickets here

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

For the First Time In 4 Years

It's Inauguration Day! It's Inauguration Day!

I made a video for it.

Please excuse the singing... when I grow up to be big and famous, I promise to hire professional singers to sing my dumb songs. But for now, please enjoy my Inauguration Day video.

As always, if you like it, share it. Subscribe to my channel because I think all that stuff matters and one of these days I am going to sit down and do the work to figure out why.

Thank you!

Friday, January 1, 2021


End of year reviews for 2020? Who would endeavor such a thing? There’s been way too much crazy stuff for one pithy catch-all list.

I spent most of 2020 thinking they will one day write volumes about the time warp of a calendar year; the year that felt like 20. And then I realized, the books on 2020 have already been written. No, not Nostradamus. That scamp never saw murder hornets coming. 

No, the books on 2020 were written by Lewis Carroll and are our childhood cherished stories of Alice in Wonderland.

Do you know a lot about Alice in Wonderland? Well, buckle up, you will.

The year 2020 IS Alice and Wonderland. It is a world of absolute nonsense. There was some scary stuff, but mostly just a lot of really weird sh!t. 

We are all Alice. Bored with our humdrum existence as it was on December 31, 2019, curiosity led us into the year that no one saw coming. No one, except Lewis Carroll, of course. Cast your mind back to the monotony of 2019. Miss it? Me too.

We have all fell down a rabbit hole in 2020. For me, it was Chris Evans’ dick pix, but for you it could have been fascism or sourdough bread or …. Ok, it was probably his dick pix for you too.

The key is zooming in...

We’ve been drinking potions at an alarming rate. 

It says "drink me" It would be rude not to

Alice can’t go through a door and then cries a pool of tears. Relatable.

Don't go outside? OK, I guess?

Alice meets the Dodo and asks him for help. The Dodo is in a “caucus race” (that’s what it’s actually called in the book!) where a bunch of characters that only appear in that one part all run around in circles with no clear winner… Y’all remember Iowa??

Can we even name all those candidates now? 

Donald Trump Jr. and Eric are Tweedledee and Tweedledum… not that they featured that heavily in the year, but I never miss an opportunity to call those two Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

It's uncanny

Alice goes into the rabbit’s house, finds something to eat and she grows to the size of the house. I’ve yet to find the cake that will make me smaller, but not for lack of trying... donuts don't work either, and I've tried those several times.

The Dodo suggests burning the house down with all their stuff inside, which is a tight analogy for leaving the Paris Climate Accord. You might not remember when he tries to burn the house down. You also might not remember the Australian Wildfires, but they both frighteningly happened. 

Yes, climate change is overwhelming, but maybe still "try" to do something?

There are the flowers that seem sweet when they think Alice is one of them, but then turn when they find out she’s different… the Karens.

I find the Karen thing funny, but my name is Lindsey... and not caring because it doesn't affect me personally, is kind of peak "Karen"

The states that legalized weed are the Caterpillar. New Jersey’s like, "Who R U? F this, we’re getting high!“

People were eating bits of mushrooms to bring them up or down… you guys, Lewis Carroll predicted microdosing!

Actual pic of Chris Christie on vacation

Oregon is the Cheshire Cat… "Weed isn’t going to cut it, we’re legalizing ALL THE DRUGS. We will get so high, all you can see is our smile."

We got your anarchy right here

The tea party guests wished us “a very merry unbirthday,” because what was time anyway? No one knew the date, so celebrate that!

Is it March-ember yet?

Brexit was the dormouse at the tea party: drunk and passed out in the teapot, and we had all forgotten about them already.

The March hare is the whisker I lived with the entire month of March because I was too depressed to pluck it.

The Mad Hatters -Hmmm, can you think of any mad hat wearers? I think it refers to the MAGA hats, although Rudy Giuliani is mad as a hatter, so there’s room for interpretation on that one.

At least this guy is smart enough to avoid the hair dye

At the tea party, they screamed “no room! no room!” That’s basically how we felt when the murder hornets showed up. Tell the fire tornadoes and toilet snakes that there is no room for more craziness in 2020. UFO sightings and locust swarms are enough.

The Nevada votes are the white rabbit… “I’m late, I’m late!” The white rabbit carries a pocketwatch, but Nevada is known for not having clocks in their casinos, so of course they were late.

Place your bets on blue

The Queen of Hearts is Covid 19… the evil looming presence that isn’t always seen, but is the cause of most of the bad stuff. It does what it wants and ultimately, it wants to kill us all.

No way but MY way

There’s a White King, because in 2020, of course there is.

Read the room dude

The playing cards are the loyal staff of the leader. They screw up and plant the wrong roses. Then they spend all their time, year round, painting the white roses red, or as I like to think of it: Four Seasons: Total Landscaping. This one has the unique distinction of being funnier in real life than in the story. Guys, they booked the Four Seasons - Total Landscaping. I just wanted to make sure everyone still remembers.

They booked the Four Seasons-Total Landscaping!

There are trials that are a farce (the impeachment) and others that have no legal grounds (the election ones).

The Queen’s favorite pastime is croquet. You might also call croquet: terrible golf, which is undeniably what Donald Trump plays… and played over 30 times while 2020 was raging. Sure, there is room for the comparison to Nero fiddling while Rome burns, but one literary analogy at a time people!!

Maybe flamingo clubs would help his game?

Steve Bannon got banned from Twitter for saying “off with his head” about Dr. Fauci. Which seems a little too on the nose, but Bannon has never been known for his subtlety.

They kind of look similar too, on a bad day for the Queen

I’m not sure if this analogy means I’ve done too many drugs or that I need to do more drugs… I think both are true at the moment.

Lewis Carroll, it should be noted, was allegedly a bit of a Jeffrey Epstein of his day. No, he wasn’t murdered… I mean the other Jeffrey Epstein thing, enabled by wealthy benefactors to continue his questionable relationship with children. And while Epstein didn’t make it to 2020, his story was consumed along with many others as we sat on our couches with our “curiosity.” Curiouser and curiouser. I mean, the Tiger King does sound like a character from the book that simply didn’t make the final edit.

Interestingly enough Charles Dodgson, pen name Lewis Carroll, died from pneumonia following influenza… guys, he died from flu! 

And we’re all sitting here just like Alice, wondering when someone is going to wake us the f#$k up already!

So wake me up when it's all over

“So many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.” - FAKE NEWS!

And that's just when I'm checking Twitter

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

2020 Ironic

2020 has been a year. A wild, crazy ride of a year.
So I made this.

                                                                            2020 Ironic

link here

If you like it, please feel free to share with someone you think might also like it.
Thank you for your support.

We'll all get through this together.

Friday, December 11, 2020

App-y Birthday!

Instagram celebrated its 10th birthday recently. Double digits!

As a mother about to celebrate her own child's double digit birthday, it's easy to see the social media apps as true representations of their ages. 

Sometimes our real life kids require we stimulate our brains elsewhere, and for that, we are grateful to our surrogate children: social media apps. 

Twitter is 14 and that makes perfect sense. Twitter is such a moody young teenager: over-emotional, picking fights over nothing. They say inappropriate things and then claim not to know better. They do one thing right and want you to celebrate that and overlook all the times they do nothing. And their algorithms (inner workings) are super confusing, change daily and are the key to their happiness and the happiness of those around them. They act like they don't want to be noticed, but all they want is for everyone to like them.

Facebook is 16, the even more moody, sh!ttier older sibling of Twitter. Facebook thinks they know everything, but really they're just repeating BS they've heard through a friend of a friend that isn't even true. They stir the pot and take no responsibility for the trouble they cause. They want to be both fully supported yet fully independent. They will claim moral integrity, but will actually do anything for money. Britney Spears sang she was “not a girl, not yet a woman.” Facebook is not a technology platform, not yet officially a media monopoly. But congrats on destroying democracy... keepin' it 💯 

Instagram is the self-involved 10-year-old who thinks their entire life is worth sharing. Visually they have their act together. They are older, wiser and cleaner than their younger siblings, and younger, fitter and more pleasing than their adolescent siblings. They want to make you happy and will sometimes resort to cheap gimmicks to do so. If they do something for you, they want to be compensated. Your affection goes a long way, and the absence of it can be destructive.

Pinterest is the 10-year-old "artsy" one. They probably have undiagnosed OCD, which presents in their hyper-organized manner and attention to detail. They are the most creative and have great ideas, but aren't fun to be around because any deviation from their original perfection they deem a “FAIL.” They have the best birthday parties and their goodie bags are the stuff of legends.

Snapchat is 9. They always seem to have a lot of new, weird tricks that entertain for 5 minutes before they get boring. When they do something cool, you'll never see it again. 

TikTok is the toddler sibling from dad's new girlfriend. Like most toddlers, TikTok takes mildly amusing things and repeats them over and over again until they're funny, and then until they're annoying. Fun to play with, but will suck you in for hours and report all your personal info back to their creator to be used against you at a later date. 

Only Fans is the baby of the bunch. Thirsty, messy, dirty. Only for the true fan, most of us can't be bothered to look after it. Loves to take off their clothes... there are a lot of body parts and bodily functions on constant display.

My Space is the older sibling from a different marriage. They once seemed cool, but aren't around much anymore. Still out there, you will randomly hear about them once in a while. They have been fighting for relevance for over a decade, but will settle for acknowledgement that they were the original.

LinkedIn is of legal age now and considers themself the mature one. Networking is their whole life, and one day all that hard work will be worth it. Bore off!

A warning to parents: the more time you spend with these "children," the more you will ignore your own.

#blessed #parentlife #neverchange #hashtag #morehashtags #stillmorehashtags #whysomanyhashtags

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Life, the universe, and everything

I just completed another trip around the sun. Not really a dazzling achievement, but one which I will reflect on in my own self-indulgent way.

They didn't used to be so exhausting, so physically draining, so emotionally consuming. In my defense, I was busy doing a lot more than simply "aging" this past year. 

I read two books. That fact could be more embarrassing than the accomplishment it felt like given I have owned both books for well over a year. That is why my library card goes under-utilized... oh the fees! (and the funny smell of the pages). But I did it. Hurray for escaping into a good book. Now there are two more items in the piles of stuff around my house of things I am unsure what to do with. (yes, I will donate them eventually... four years, tops). 

I was busy trying my best not to ruin my children for life. This was not necessarily a successful endeavor. Only time will tell, but I would guess it's nothing a few years of good therapy can't help. For the record, my "best" counts as what I have to give and I used most, if not all of it.

I was busy continuing my attempt to make the people around me laugh, and also widening that circle of people to include more strangers and members of the general public. Also not necessarily a successful endeavor, but for some reason continues to be fun. It makes me feel good more than it makes me feel bad, which is more than I can say about running. 

Running, another thing I tried to do more of. Not exactly sure why, since my body does little in the way of tone and tighten these days, but for a few months those runs were all of the "me" time I got. Me time, more like meh time... ammiright??!!* (*example of jokes I tell in front of other people. To be clear, I said it's fun for me, I didn't say how anyone else felt about it).

I was busy baking treats and eating some truly lovely things. Baking is one of the many things I learned from my mother and one of the few things I have to give to my children. Pro tip: when you don't have the emotional fortitude to reckon with life's difficulties, kill some time making the house smell like butter and cinnamon and then bribe them with the sugary results.

Prior to the world shutting down, we went on a bunch of fantastic trips: England, Barcelona, Austin, England (again!), Park City, Maine. That list is either a pathetic attempt at a humble brag, or a partial list of things we can't do and won't be able to do again for the foreseeable future. Ah, good times. 

For the past five months, I have traveled only in my mind. I have been a prisoner of my own lovely life. A life I was rather enjoying before the world turned upside down (yes, I've also been busy watching a lot of Hamilton). A life I have continued to enjoy at random intervals between the anxiety attacks, stress eating sessions, eliminating all contact with the outside world, re-engaging with the outside world, Netflix binges, suicidal ideations, Amazon sprees, guilt for the stress eating because so many people don't have enough to eat, home-schooling meltdowns (both mine and theirs), feeling like a prisoner in a very nice apartment, forgetting how to socialize, overwhelming concern for people I have never met, daydreaming about donuts, heightened sense of impending societal doom, and a few paper cuts thrown in for good measure (one while squeezing a lemon, which felt like the most accurate depiction of the exact moment in history it occurred in). 

That has been the life on this most recent passage around the sun. 

But there has also been love. Most notably the unbending and (at times shockingly) consistent love and support from the person who chose to spend his life with me, and whom I would have easily understood wanting to change that decision at any point, but for some reason doesn't. I feel loved which makes it possible for me to love. I love him more than I love donuts.

There has been light. In between temper tantrums and meltdowns and crying fits (mostly mine), my children have provided some levity. I have learned a lot. Mostly that they scream at each other a ton. My big takeaway is that I probably have the condition: misophonia and will simply have to learn to live in a constant state of anxiety around my own children... but I'm pretty sure that condition greatly overlaps with another condition known as parenthood, so I'll be fine. Sometimes I make them smile though, and it rights the ship and reminds me of my own capacity for love and why I love making people smile, specifically those two tiny people.

There has been laughter. Turns out I can make more than just my immediate family laugh. I can make my close friends laugh too. And in one of their words: "I thought it was going to be awkward and terrible, but you're actually pretty funny, kind of like a real comedian."

There has been family. Even though there hasn't been a lot of in-person time with our entire family recently, the connection is always felt. Together, we miss each other as if the act is enough to bring us together somehow, at least until we can be together again.

There have been great meals (and some sh!t ones too), but... so many meals shared and increased family time that I will choose to overlook that we probably relied on pasta a bit too much, and rather just focus on celebrating that we had that time. 

Remember all those trips? A lot of fun times and great food with dear friends. Did I mention the laughter? Well, it is what has sustained me this year, and fortified me to enter the next one, so probably best to mention it again.

42: the answer to life, the universe and everything. It was. I think I get it. The answer is not actually knowing everything... it is simply knowing that. That is the answer because I feel the weight of it. All of it. The weight for myself, for my family, for my community, for my country, for the world, for humankind. The weight of not knowing what's going to come, what will become of our health, our livelihoods, our love, our laughter, our humanity, our empathy, our ability to care for one another, to see good in others and to bring out the best in each other.

I don't know what the next journey around the sun will bring. I will carry with me the things I loved about this past one and prioritize them above all else: above the noise, the drama, the pain. 

Another year of life is cause to celebrate, so today I will celebrate. Tomorrow I will continue to search for ways to make it all a bit better, the way that the people I have let into my life make it all a bit better for me. At the very least I will continue to search for a way to help people smile while we tackle the undertaking of healing this world. All while continuing to search for good donuts.

Sunrise, sunset...