Mixed Blessings (and Drinks)

Guess it was good that I took a step back from planning every moment and instead just going with the flow of our new open mic. I and my two co-hosts stopped on by a little early and initially were elated by the influx of people. It was a good crowd - or so we thought. As we started counting the minutes to the mic it became abundantly clear why so many people were there.

Fun fact: did you know fantasy football season overlaps with actual football season? Yeah, who knew? Seems like a scheduling conflict to me but who am I to judge what sports fans do with their time. A crowd of seven backwards baseball hat wearing ultra-bros had made a bet the previous season whereby the dude with the lowest score I guess had to go up on an open mic. You know the thing a lot of us are trying to do for a living - yeah, they wanted to do it on a lark!

As the mic started, guess what; another group of five or so came on in the with the exact same plan. This, in addition to the usual drunks and weirdos that kill a decent mic on a good night, basically created a perfect s**t storm so profoundly ridiculous that it most certainly will wind up in a bit for at least one of us.

To their credit, my co-hosts did a great job holding their own amid the onslaught of jeers, epithets and drunken yelling. Between me and the bar owner, we had to break up two fights and kicked out another two people - the overlap unfortunately was not as vast between the four incidents as you would think. One woman tried to drunkenly grab the mic from one of the more seasoned comics creating a scene that would have made a sailor blush. Before the woman was kicked out, she whispered something racist to one of the drunken football guys creating another altercation.

The other fight occurred after the football guys had their fill of tequila shots and were on their way out. One of my co-hosts unwisely goaded one of them which prompted me, a 5'7" Puerto Rican to parse the room between two 6'3" men. Had one of them wanted to pick me up and throw me like a lawn dart they probably could have.

Amid all that chaos the actual comedians were not feeling the vibe and one of the names I recognized fled before he could go up. Another guy visiting from New York started his set saying "I've never felt so insecure in a room in my life." What's worse we only had three women go up. One was a poet, one was one of our co-hosts...not a great precedent.

On the positive side, now we know it can't get much worse and despite all the rigamarole we were complimented on how we handled most of the night by the bar owner. The man has a poker face but I have the feeling last night was one of the worst nights he's experienced which makes me feel better about the whole ordeal. Plus thankfully Fantasy Football season is finally over...right?

Not Succumbing to Old Habits

So in case it wasn't obvious from the last post I was vehemently pumped by the prospect of hosting a mic. Naturally, given my high-strung nature I took something good and started ruining it via the various tracks my mind can go in and the actions that I impulsively take.

Immediately after finding out the news that'd I'd be taking over 2 regular mics a week, I recruited 2 co-hosts and immediately started bombarding them with ideas, creating a work-flow, administering various duties and responsibilities, coming up with strategies on how to work out problems, theories on establishing a positive working environment, figuring out the logistics of our supplies...

Yeah, I'm hard to work with. I know I'm hard to work with because not only do I want to fastidiously plan for every single contingency, but I lack the basic social skills to finesse my various stratagems. Also I'm persistent, impulsive and easily get overwhelmed by my own machinations.

My co-hosts have been very patient with me thank God and haven't yet tied me to the back of a garbage barge and left me to the seagulls. Thankfully I realized in time that I was overwhelming literally everyone I came in contact with over the last few days and took a big step back. I know we all want the same things, my friends and I - we want to be successful and happy. But we all have different ways of achieving those ends and diversity of thought is always a good thing. More than anything I want to make sure they feel their input is being heard. Thus far the input I got was "shut the f**k up about the stupid mic." So I did for their sake and mine.

So I narrowly avoided one bad pattern of behavior that's gotten me into trouble in the past. Go me! That of course didn't stop me from indulging in other self-destructive behaviors. I asked out...a friend...again. Of course she said no - we're friends! Good friends that would make terrible bedfellows because we have too much in common. I knew this going in! Why did I do this? Because my ego was at an all-time high and on a subconscious level I needed to let some air out. So I did - I was disproportionately devastated and now I worry I may have jeopardized a rewarding personal and professional relationship.

In all likelihood I didn't, and I'm once again projecting and catastophizing for no reason. What's helped in not flinging me off the deep end is the fact that I stopped drinking. Man, saying that makes me sound like so much more of a badass than I really am. Like "I only stopped drinking only after I pile-drived into a flaming ping-pong table while doing Jager shots on the quad bruh." No I stopped because I'm boring and I've become a lot more comfortable with that fact.

Has the lack of drinking made me happier? No, but it is keeping me more attuned with my feelings; which in-turn provides more chances to put everything into perspective. Promise I'll go back to social drinking when I've figured my s**t out. For now, let me stare into the maw of undiluted clarity and truly soak in the confusion.

When Fate Throws You a Bone

I, am an obsessive. I know this, I've leaned into this. I've quelled a lot of demons being meticulous and fixating on the minutae to the dearth of other things that would otherwise melt my goddamn brain. Does that sometimes mean that I get blindsided by stuff I'm ignoring...perhaps. But other times I get blindsided by things that are overwhelmingly positive.

So in order to accentuate the positive I am writing with good tidings. I kid you now, there should be a big banner with the words "I'm f**king happy!" written in comic sans. Will it last? Not thinking about that...I'm not I swear.

It all started when a mic host announced on the social media groups I frequent announced he was not going to have enough time for the mics and would like to pass the torch. I had not been to the mic in months as the room was a little scattershot via the audience, the mic size and the reception. Still, I put my hat in the ring thinking little of it. I've only been doing this a year and some change and I'm not exactly a well known comic around these parts. I kinda just wanted to push myself a little - Worst case I've started the process of inoculating myself against professional rejection as opposed to audience rejection. "Thank you for submitting your clip to our showcase but we hate you go away." Cool.

To my surprise the interview process was one simple question: "do you have an amp and a mic?" "Yes" (I didn't at the time but what's a fib amongst comics). "Cool, you start tomorrow."

And just like that, I'm thrust into hosting two mics! Immediately I recruited two of my friends to co-host and made new posters I can add to social media to advertise...you know because the first thing a kid does when his dad builds him a club house is he designs the flag.

My mind was aflutter with ideas on how it was to be run. A jovial space for comedians to try out new things in front of a supportive crowd. An ideal first-timers paradise where I and my co-hosts would keep the energy up with nonsensical rigmarole. At our mic, I'd shake hands with every comedian who was to perform - make them feel welcome, get them talking about who they are what they're about and mold the space slightly so they can be that person.

I waddled into the establishment like an emperor penguin completely oblivious to the smack at the back of the head I was about to receive from the bar owner. Apparently there was bad blood between the former host and the owner. Bad blood which necessitated him to bolt in the night leaving me holding the proverbial bag.

I'll serve you, but I don't have to like you...

Long story short, bar owner calls the shots. We start the mic when he says, we bump comics when he wants us to and patrons who heckle are tolerated so long as they're patrons with money. So much for the egalitarian dream.

Still, nothing was going to wreck my mood. Even when the cheap guitar amp I had boosted started to fizzle and pop, I was busting my way through my first hosting job like I had been asked to sub for Conan. As one of my friends said after the night was over, "you had bits on bits on bits and they all were landing." I even kept the owner at bay. Usually he hovers around the mic like a rain cloud. I didn't make him laugh I don't think but t least I didn't make him shout.

The next mic he wasn't even there, though to be fair, neither were a lot of comics. It was an intimate crowd of about a dozen but 2 from the Friday mic returned for the Sunday mic...a good sign in my book. It means despite bending to the whims of a despot, we managed to keep things welcoming and fun.

Hosting a mic wasn't even a goal for me this month. Hell it wasn't even a goal for me this year! I always knew it was beneficial because of the crowd interaction, stage time and connections but I never once assumed anyone would give me the reins to an established mic as a guest-host let alone the new permanent host! Just goes to show you the unexpected doesn't always have to be bad.

Also I bought an amp and mic so no more sounding like we're hosting the mic from the bottom of a well.

Bad Day Bad Date

Did you really have a bad day, or did you have a bad ten minutes you milked for the whole afternoon. No Debra, I had a bad day. The day actually started yesterday with the disappearance of my wallet. I was on the northbound 44. Someone boosted it as I was getting off the bus. I know this because today it was recovered by CTA sans credit cards. Luckily I was aware of the stolen wallet almost immediately and cancelled everything ensuring the only thing they wasted was my time. Still, the day was a constant back-and-forth between home, work and downtown to get my banking situation and CTA card stuff figured out. I got to work an hour late but I'm finally situated.

I must have clocked 16 miles on my bike before I finally got home. I practiced my set in the mirror before heading off to a first date that wound up never happening. Out of the seven dates I've gone on since I've started the whole online thing, the woman has shown up three times. Three! This time she was courteous enough to send a message I didn't get an hour and a half before the date saying "Don't hate me but I'm feeling sick and can't make it." Guess it's my fault for not checking the profile I've been avoiding interacting with because I f**king hate online dating. I simply said, "no hate. Just indifference and disappointment. Good night."

Rude? Perhaps. What I really wanted to say is I don't like flakes. What I really wanted to say was while she was arguing to herself about whether the date was too out of range for a weekday, I waited at the restaurant for an hour rearranging the silverware. I wanted to tell her to get bent. I have better things to do than deal with someone with no character and a lack of backbone.

I'm done dating for a while I think. There's one more bullet in the chamber as it were when it comes to dates and I'll decide in the morning whether or not I'm just going to tell her to buzz off before I get hurt again. Why does it have to be like this? Why do we constantly thrust ourselves into the abyss hoping that someone will hear our call for company and good feeling? And like, I get it - women have to contend with the possibility of creeps, cretins and criminals on a much vaster level than men do but it really is an abyss over on this side of the gender equation. A big fat zero.

I don't want to do this anymore!! Not ever! At this point my attraction to women is at an all time low. I'd rather stick my tongue into a curling iron than go on another date even if there's a guarantee that she'll actually show up. There's nothing left for me in the world of dating. So I need to find something else to occupy my lifetime.

The Grind

In trying to keep a positive perspective on things, I've dulled some of the anguish that is usually associated with depression - some of it. I've been working fastidiously to keep on my path, not wavering for anything with the exception of running ten miles a day because f**k that. At this point I'm pretty comfortable with the fact that I'll be walking most of the marathon - so long as I get a new pair of running shoes. Otherwise, I'm not taking many shortcuts in my...recovery?...Goal for maintenance?...Just regular life because everyone I know is struggle-bussing through life? I don't know what this is yet.

People keep telling me I'm looking good, or doing a lot of work on myself and they appreciate it. I don't know about all that. My motivation isn't to become a healthier person or a better person but just to be a person I can stand. I often think about the people I would like to be - warm, welcoming, funny, strong-willed, quick and gracious. So far, I barely have the "funny" part down.

On the positive side I have a few showcases coming up. My goal for the year was just one so the fact that I have one this coming week, another at the end of the month and the last a few days after that is evidence that progress is being made. As I stated in my previous post, when I have data to prove improvement, it's hard to be that down on yourself.

I've been working on cobbling together a strong 7-minute set and so far I have the flow and rhythm of a 10-minute that needs to be whittled away and tightened. It's become abundantly clear that I am a big fan of the obscene and gross. What's also clear is my phrasing and references are a little too high minded and/or pedantic for the subject matter. Oh well, a comedian friend motivated me by saying I'm an acquired taste and there's nothing wrong with that.

Another comedian I had met last week let me in on some of her writing habits which (if you think mine are too much) are pretty elaborate. I usually create my set as a pretty straight forward list of jokes with tags:

South Side Chicago

|

Weight Loss

|

Dating Habits

|

Catdog

|

Cockroach

She does it more like a tree whereby if one joke doesn't work she knows how to read the audience to get the whole set back on track:

Pumpkins

_____|_____

Reverse Racism                    Brain Candy

|                            |

Grease 2----          Media Marketing

\             |

Yoga Pants 

|

Work/Life Balance

After I'm done with my latest projects, I'll take a look at creating a little something like this. This seems dependent on real audiences and tried and true bits as opposed to city open mics where you're often in a room full of indifferent comedians. I've found that while my highly regimented, constantly shifting approach is good for me, it's not exactly conducive to creating good relationships with "the room". I'm always trying new things instead of fine-tuning what I know works so as a result I can tell a lot of comedians and mic hosts who know me but don't "know" me are rolling their eyes every time I go up. It'd help if I talked to them I know but I'm still far too shy. Oh well, hard to keep down someone who won't give up.

Outsmarting Depression

Depression sucks. I've dealt with true, blue depression for over a year now and let me tell you something - it isn't a picnic. In the past I tried to be supportive of my friends suffering with mental disease and disorder but it is only now that I realize how unhelpful I was being. "Just fake it until you make it," was the mantra I often used. Little did I know I was only alienating those I care about and often times making them feel worse.

In my defense I didn't truly understand how depression actually feels. You can intellectualize all you want, coming up with various reasons why you aren't worthless; you can even come up with an action plan reasoning how you feel is a symptom of what you're doing. That's how I dealt with feeling blue after all, and while I understood a lot of people with depression have chemical imbalances that get them to that point, I always believed you were ultimately the governor of your own mind.

Yeah, no. Depression is your brain basically trying to kill you - going so far as to metastasize that feeling into bodily discomfort. It's like a pressure building in your head not unlike the feeling you get right before you cry. Only there is no release at the end of it - just a consistent draining of fluids that aren't there. There's also a whole body experience where it's like you're being pressed by heavy rocks. At its worse it prevents you from even moving.

Intellectualizing it, like I did in the past - just got me in my own oodaloop as it were. I'd start self-advocating for the task I was performing, "you got this, you're good at this." then it morphed into, "No you don't, you hate this, everyone knows you hate this, they hate you, you hate you, you're worthless." And on and on...

So the manta of "fake it til you make it," the mantra I once used to get over "feeling blue," i.e. not really depression, no longer works. Shocker. But other things do work at least for me in blunting the blade of it all. Here are some of the things I've been doing and who knows, they may help you.

1. No more alcohol.
I'm a very introverted person which causes me to feel self-conscious in small group settings. To compensate for this, I would often drink to loosen myself up a little allowing my personality to shine through. I'd then be able to regale people with my stories, commit to truly inspired witty repartee or at the very least become so drunk as to not care as to whether or not I was anti-social.

With my depression however, I realized alcohol only amplifies the oppressive feeling of sadness I feel. I mean, duh, it's a depressant! So instead of running the risk of embarrassing myself by announcing how sad and miserable I am, I just decided I'm done. I'm not getting the mileage I once was so why continue using a crutch I've outgrown. Oh God that means I'm basically Mormon now!

Of course that means now, when I decide to be social, I'm standing on my own two feet - the anxiety of it makes me almost nauseous to think about which brings me to my next way to outsmart my depression...

2. Re-defining success.
At social gatherings my definition of success was based on a sliding scale of impact. How much of an impression did I leave on the group? Was it a good impression on the group? Be there the whole time dude, or else you'll miss your window to leave an impression on the group! This put my success squarely in the hands of the group. I can't continue doing that. Instead I think of it in regards to inter-connectivity with the individual. What does this person I'm talking to right now want? Can I provide what they want? What do I want and can this person provide that to me? Some people want an audience, others want to be left well enough alone. Others still want to climb a social ladder of some kind while others want to do what I used to do which was leave an impression. Most times when I'm in a social situation I just want to connect with people - arguably the easiest thing one can do.

So to re-define my success, I create meaningful connections with individuals instead of leaving impact on a group. I don't have to meet everyone at a party anymore - I just want to be a good listener to that one person, or a good talker for that one person. And when you really think about it isn't it better to create one deep, positive connection than a dozen shallow ones?

3. Create the space.
I take it back when I said earlier that I'm an introverted person. If introvert-ism means getting drained by most people instead of getting energized then that doesn't define me. I like most people. But what I do too often is let other people define me instead of letting me define myself.

Part of that has to do with the spaces I meet them in. To borrow an incredibly outdated, borderline offensive comparison - I feel like a Beta-male in nearly every space I'm in. Mics, bars, the gym, work, family gatherings, grocery stores, parties of acquaintances, nuclear power plants, marketing meetings - these are the places I have a hard time "belonging." Places I feel a little more in control include: home, movie theaters, libraries, parties with close friends, the beach, the kitchen, on a stage, on my bike, restaurants and bars I actually frequent...these are the places I tend to shine.

Hygge b***h!

But what if you just have to be in places you feel out of place in? I for one have to be in spaces I absolutely hate every day in order to accomplish what I have to accomplish. So I try to reclaim it by physically changing it or figuring out a way to keep me grounded. For example at work: I have a tiny, little closet space I keep all to my own. I have all of my work stuff there but more importantly I have a multitude of fidgets, posters and my own coffee mug stored in there. And it's all organized just the way I like it. Sure every once in a while people go in there to dump more storage but then I just cast it to the side and make my space mine again.

But what if you just can't reform or reclaim the space for yourself? Well That's when rituals and totems work. I'm trying to get myself into a pre-psyche ritual so I'll get back to you if/when it works. I know it will have something to do with music. Otherwise I carry a totem with me to keep me grounded in the form of a purple marble. I keep it in my pocket and gently roll it in my hands before I go up at a mic.

4. Data
I have a friend who gave me a point-by-point journal exercise I've found useful. The whole thing only takes about ten minutes to write it all down. The rules are as follows:

• The audience is you and you alone
• 1-2 sentences on the space you're in right now
• 1-2 sentences on how you're feeling
• 1-2 sentences on what else is on your mind
• Thank yourself for the previous day's accomplishments no matter how big or small.
•  Think about where to go from here.

I find that second point to be especially helpful. Earlier journal entries, I used to just jump into how I feel - usually anxious about the future. Talking about the space first, in at the moment made me aware of the present which then relaxed me enough to actually put my thoughts together.

But say you don't have time for that. Say journals are not the best form of self-reflection to fit your busy schedule. Well for standup I have a little something different. I have a little notebook where I write down details of the mics I got to. I record my sets and at the beginning of each week, I listen to them and tally how many laughs I get. I then average out my laughs per minute for the week.

Is it obsessive and takes way more time and effort than a journal entry? Sure, but one of the benefits of doing this is it gives me hard evidence to show my brain that I'm improving. Every time I get into a spiral of self-doubt I get out my little black book, look over the LPM and tell my brain to shut up. "You suck." "No I don't - I have proof of improvement!"

Me: 1 | Brain: 0

5. It's not you, its them.
I hesitate to advocate for this one. I consider myself a nice person therefore I like to avoid having mean thoughts. That's not a brag, it's just not in my nature. I see a barista struggling with my order my instinct isn't to berate or roll my eyes in disdain. I've been there before! It's not fun to be struggling in front of an audience nor is it ever acceptable to be a dips**t to people that are under obligation to help you. But...

If you're ultimately defined by what you do then that basically negates everything that takes place in your head. Don't psychoanalyze everyone who's ruining your day in order to explain away the external - don't burden yourself with that noise. If you're like me, you'll just end up taking that empathy gun and pointing it inward. Hey that guy is being flippant and mean...It's not his fault, he's having a bad day. Or maybe something's wrong with me, My body language was very closed off when he talked to me, he may have been reacting to that. Or maybe it's my breath or what I'm wearing - I hate this sweater - I hate me. No-no stop! There's nothing is wrong with you and that guy has a whole support system willing to make excuses for his s**tty behavior. He's an a**hole - that's it! f**k that barista too! You new here bro?!

6.  Ugh.
Just f**king staying positive is a thing I guess. Yeah it's a hard thing to do and in the moment it has no tangible benefit but if you're brain is literally trying to kill you, you have to make a conscious and consistent effort to stay positive. Do whatever you need to do to get that done. Go watch a movie, eat your favorite food, get a massage, do what you need to do and don't feel guilty about it.

That's all I got.

The Madness of Working on Yourself

One of my goals for the year was writing one hundred blog posts by the end of the year. It's the end of July and I've only written eight. Don't get me wrong, I still have been writing every day either through joke writing or personal journal entries. But the fact that I have yet to really make headway in this endeavor is not filling me with joy.

But what differentiates the blog format in my eyes, is the audience I am speaking to. A Journal entry is personal - I'm able to talk to myself as myself and reflect upon the day's goings-on. Jokes are on the opposite of the spectrum - an external expression of who I want to present to a crowd. Who I am v who I want to be. Blogs are kind of in that in-between space for me. I want to be able to be myself but I also want to be aspirational and present myself well. It's the equivalent of going on a date. Do you have the wherewithal to know you have some bad habits? Yes. But you're not about to floss your teeth with a piece of sock string just meeting someone. That doesn't happen until the third or fourth date.

Additionally, there's the issue of - you know - other people. No man is an island and if you're human and not a hermit, your life has been impacted directly or indirectly by lots of people. Talking about others no matter how innocuously in a public setting (such as on a blog which anyone can theoretically read), runs the risk of misrepresenting another living human being - which is no bueno.

It's interesting reflecting on the lives we lead.

I probably wouldn't be writing today if not for the goal sheet I keep as an Excel cluttering my desktop display. At the beginning of the year, I wrote down my highest aspirations and put them into the universe in the vaguest of terms. Then I tailored them to fit the SMART goal format because that's the method I was taught by my year of trauma...I mean Americorp. Then I broke it down further into specific pieces that clicked into my main scripts of life. Ugh...this is becoming a thing now. Okay, I'll explain.

So My main scripts of life are as follows:

• Mindfulness - learning to be present and trying to be aware of my feelings and actions.
• Ubuntu - making my actions affect others in a positive way (it's a shortening of a Swahili phrase meaning "I am through others").
• Hygge - The Danish word describing a quality of coziness and conviviality
• Comic Framing - The challenge to look broadly at the funny side of things whether it be silly, absurd, dark or light.

So for example my goal in its vaguest form was "Become a professional comedian and comedy writer." Cool - so now one of the many pieces of that: "I will write 100 blog posts this year." Breaking down that sentence into a SMART goal:

Specific: 100 is specific
Measurable: I can count them
Achievable: Have/had 365 days to do it!
Relevant: Relevant to my vague goal of comedy writing to the extent of keeping good work habits.
Time-bound: EOY.

Now the scripts to which this is all attached to - drum roll - Mindfulness and Comic Framing of course!

Is this the markings of insanity? You should see my 4 notebooks detailing the methods to which I approach jokes, the cork board full of post-its and the excel graphs of my laughs per minute average (LPM).

And this is just one aspect of life! I have 4 more other goals I am aiming towards. I want to make more money, want to make new friends, want to be confident in myself and be responsible enough to handle another person's affections. It's a lot to tackle but not when I break everything down.

So I have 5 more months to write 91 posts. That's 18-19 entries per month. Can I do it? Guess we'll find out!