Ths show is over

Our Christmas shows are over, and so are our exams. I had forgotten what exams were like, having not partaken in any since high school. Comedian school has weird exams, like a Creativity exam. In said exam I had to write 'thank you for the knowledge of creativity techniques you're instilled upon me, don't be sad if my answers are wrong because I don't know which names are which techniques. I can and do use them all'.

I think I kicked ass in my 'joke' exam, which I am happy about. I ended up passing my French exam, thank God! I have improv left, and a meeting with the director.

The shows were quite hard. Our best comedian got mono and only did half the shows, and our energy was not as it could have been. I do not have the acting chops to deliver my number as it should be. It was very hard.

Christmas vacation then Disney world on the horizon. More debt to come. Please God let me be talented enough to make lots of money, because I am the only breadwinner for the family.

Monday, Monday...

Not so good to me. You know how sometimes your art flows through you? I need that right now. I can't think up the right words. I can't seem to stop being scared of later. I have to write my text, perform it in front of my teacher, then do re-writes and learn it again. And I clearly can't learn a text, as demonstrated last Friday.

Okay, so I'm going to go and find a corner and talk it out, hope for divine intervention and then print it out again.

Lunchtime some friends are doing 'pimp my number' where you can go do your number and everyone gives their 2 cents. That'll be my last resort.

I fell on my face but I'm not bleeding

So yesterday I had a Friday. We're working on our numbers for the show. I don't know what happened but I could not have cared less. Nothing was coming out. Not one line! My friend had to feed me almost every single one.

It was like the dress rehearsals for our ballet shows where stuff went so wrong that we thought things would never work.

I came away from it with a sort of certainty that it wouldn't ever happen again. I'm going to work on my text today, and it will be the final version (I have decided) and I will learn it and know it by heart this Monday for my individual meeting. There's no other option.

You know what else I have to do this week? I have to write a funny song and perform it in front of people. I have to make up a game. A board game. That we can play. This is a group thing too so we have to all get together and not only make it great but do the arts and crafts that goes with it.

Soon I have to do a 4 minute spoof on a television show which will be SO FUN! Except for:

We have our show on the 11th and 12th of December. I need to get passports in order. Make sure I pay bills. Go to my parent-teacher meetings. Keep money aside for Disney World (see how I shouldn't be complaining. I get to bring my kids to DISNEY WORLD! HOW COOL IS THAT????). I have to shift bank accounts around and cancel some stuff and do paperwork at my old job. I have to be a mother and take care of my kids because they're my entire reason for being and wanting to get better and working my ass off. I need to find time to exercise because I feel horrible. I need to cook all the time to have healthy stuff to eat. I need to keep my eyes and ears open for projects and I also need to take care of the house but I do some everyday and it's not enough and just the fact that my husband thinks that should be my priority above all else (that and making him food) is enough to make me not wanna make it a priority.

And thank god my sister Sarah comes over to help, or I would never see her and she's my best friend. I don't see my sister Karine at all (we both have no time) and I no longer have any friends. I don't even get to hang out with my parents and when I do all I do is complain, I feel. Yes, home is where you can say what's on your mind or vent, but why the hell would they want to see me or my family if I can't be okay for 2 seconds?

I need to be impressive in school if I ever want to work. It's got to be number 2 behind my kids, and sometimes number 1, 'cause that's who I am doing it for.

I don't think I'll be doing another English show before Christmas... But maybe I can finish my novel? Haha!

Ambition, baby!

Clearly I am insane, as already demonstrated in my real life and all my posts. Even my mother tends to reinforce my point, since she talks to me about stuff like my having the wrong brush for my kids hair... I definitely get it from somewhere.

Anyway, I did have to drop Nano. Although a small part of me wonders how I can't go to school, do outside projects, exercise, eat right, pay bills, be super creative, put on a show and groom and look great all at the same time. I mean, I'm pretty sure my mother could do it. Bitch.

Ok, that was harsh. Sorry mommy!

Anyway, in that life list of stuff I nee to be doing right now, I am doing exactly 1. 2, if you count my grooming (I'm at strict minimum grooming, I wash, but there's no pampering involved).

I keep saying the only way to have the freedom to do what you need to do and the possibility of maybe doing what you want to, you have to be obscenely rich. So that's just another thing on the list of things to put off.

And stuff keeps getting added on to my to-do list without my say-so. My fellow students and I, all adults, have to go talk to the director about a student who's making things difficult for the group. That'll be fun.

Nanowrimo day 4 word count

So here I am, 3 hours into an allnighter having barely written anything. My novel wordcount?



update (3am):

Nanowrimo has kicked off!

And yes, I'm right in the middle of it. Since we don't have to create new numbers every Friday and some of the teachers are slacking on homework, I am using my breaks to write my new book.

I'm not saying I'm going to finish it or that I wouldn't drop it as the first sign of trouble, but right now I need this. I need to train myself to write all the time. And if I'm already sitting down writing, I can always procrastinate by either working on my novel or by working on my homework. It's the perfect fit.

I'm going to write all night Wednesday at a second cup downtown with other wrimos. It'll be great since I'm usually at home trying to write all night (Thursday is an insane day at school)...

I'm about 4 thousand words in, which translates to 15 pages. I find that pretty good, since I've only had two days to work on this. Can I bust 10 thousand words at the write in? Enquiring minds want to know!

On another note, I think I'm going to write a monologue about listening to song lyrics. I don't get it. If one more couple chooses 'every breath you take' as a romantic song to have at your wedding I'm going to hurl.

NaNoWriMo is one week and 30 minutes away

So the question is, to WriMo or not to WriMo... Okay, that doesn't make tons of sense, but participants in National Novel Writing Month (google it!) do call themselves wrimo's and I would love to have some piece of original writing to work on that's not that novel that I can never seem to get finished.

I really feel like doing it, but I also feel like getting up early to exercise and NaNoWriMo is typically a month where we get ABSOLUTELY nothing else done. Anything that's not essential gets on the backburner and I'm not sure I can afford that. Although if I don't do NoNoWriMo and then get nothing else done anyway I'll be pretty pissed.

So what kind of novel should I write? Should I write in French or English? Should I stay away form the supernatural, or should I dive right in. I mean, I did tend towards supernatural writing even when it wasn't popular... But what does that mean.

I think I shall re-read Chris Baty's No Plot, no problem!

November is a-knocking. Should I answer with 50 000 words?

Updated to show this:
Guess that's my answer...

Witches, tattoo artists and soccer

What do these three worlds have in common? Me!

I always thought that I'd have my crap together in my thirties. I though by 9 years of marriage my husband would have bought me a real ring. That we'd have life plans, savings, a house.

Well, one out of three ain't bad. So we have a small house. A small house I couldn't renovate enough of because my husband won't work so we have to spend all my money on both my half and his half of the stuff. And we're going in debt again, including to the government who decided to think that I've been skimping on my taxes for 7 years (which I haven't). I don't have all the papers to contest, and I have to concentrate on school, so I'm just letting it go. And by letting it go I mean I'm letting it slowly choke me.

So, I've been waiting to get my three tattoos fixed for at least 10 years. They're bad even for old school tattoos. They're the kind of tattoos a 15-year-old stoned girl would get. A girl who knows she likes tattoos, but has a small budget on account of the drugs she's blowing money on. A girl who only vaguely gets that body art is an investment, because it is, in a small way, an expression of who you are and what you like.

So I found an artists that's good in intricate girly stuff, because I've realized I am definitely a woman, no matter how butchy I can look, and managed to get time with him even though he's booked solid within an hour of a month's schedule opening up. Long story short, I've got one tattoo almost finished, one that's taking up half my back that's at the outline stage and one that is still at the brainstorming stage. Getting tattoos for hours without being stoned is a lot more painful, but since I've gone through childbirth, I have all those handy mind-over-matter lamaze breathing tricks up my sleeve and am doing fine. Hey, I'm even developing a series that takes place in a tattoo parlour. Takes the mind off as Rob's torturing me (I have no doubt that it would feel like torture were it not about the art)...

I also went to see a witch about a some oils. Focus and creativity (I'm not the kind that thinks she can attract something tangible like money with herbs and spells). I find that whether it's a placebo effect, a neuro-association or a honest-to-god result of putting the ingredients together and smelling them, those oils help. Stop by Mélange Magique on St-Catherine in Montreal for anything tea, herb, oil or other occult needs.

We went to watch my husband play soccer today at a tournament. Outside, in the rain, at near freezing temperatures. Oh my god, such a bad idea. It was fun seeing Asian looking people speaking creole (Iles Maurice), but other than that it was quite miserable. Even dressed for the weather. Boubou did like watching for awhile. She loves soccer! However, it was WAYYYY too long with no way to leave. I was practicing being in the moment and tuning into the universe, instead of wishing I was anywhere else and getting mad. I'm getting quite good at being zen.

I even ended up with ideas on my next Friday. A vampire that's gotten fat.

WAY LESS than a superhero

My tagline reads, more than a mom, less than a superhero. Right now I feel a lot less than a superhero.

I feel like crap, basically. I'm always annoyed when I feel bad because I have so much to be thankful for. Canadian thanksgiving was yesterday and although I usually bring up going around the table so everyone can verbalize what they're thankful for I didn't this year, I decided not to because it might sound untrue.

My kids are being a little bit ass-holey. I love them but they're not sleeping enough and are getting on each others nerves a lot. My daughter is absolutely awesome at 11 months, but she won't really sleep and keeps going up and down stairs, eating everything (loves earphones and shoes) and keeps falling while walking. She really needs tons of attention.

Last week was my 9th wedding anniversary. My husband has stopped work again, is very critical, and can't seem to understand I need support with school so going out for pizza with him (and paying) didn't feel too good.

I thought by 10 years of marriage he would have bought me a ring to replace the wedding ring I bought myself. I thought we'd have life plans. I thought he'd be less shy (really, you're never going to try oral sex?)

Basically, I am left with a reality in which I've grown by leaps and bounds and he still has trouble tying his shoes by himself. Won't hold down a job, won't talk about his feelings but still considers cooking, cleaning, doing the dishes, organizing, taking care of the kids and organizing their shit a woman's work. I'm living with a cliché. Exept he's not the stereotypical Mexican with short greasy hair and a beer belly, he's the second Mexican stereotype, with long greasy hair that doesn't have a beer belly, yet, but he's sure trying.

It's very hard to know for a fact that he's with me because it's easier, because I always figure things out, because I will do what needs to be done. He's not even really appreciative of being with me. He thinks I talk too much and I harsh his mellow, and he's not even a pot smoker.

Anyway, last Friday, those little performances we have to give in front of everyone, SUCKED! I was so bad. I had absolutely NO time to do all my classes' homework, work on my 5 minutes and learn it. I finished it Friday morning and tried to learn it and fail before the afternoon when I had to go on. I am so embarrassed. I didn't get booed or anything. There was funny stuff, but it was clearly underdeveloped and now I feel like everyone's looking at me to see if it was one bad week or if I will be that girl that can't hack it. Everyone knows I don't have time, but there's no other solution to my problem. If I don't have time, I can't get the perspective I need.

I asked one of our teachers what were the steps I could do to polish my text when I have no time and he couldn't answer me. He was like: GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!

But I can't. If my husband disappears at night because he had a 'hard day', where am I supposed to go. And if it takes half and hour by bus to get anywhere and I only have 30 minutes to write, that's not going to happen.

Because I should have left him. Scratch that: I did leave him. But he stayed muttering about hormonal women, and now he knows that I don't have the will to force him out of the house physically in front of the children.

So this week I'm doing a stand-up on him. I may as well laugh at it and keep things light.

Here's what I cut from the text so far (so the rest is funnier):

He's super Mexican. Not Super!Mexican like he's a superhero. I'm not sure if a Mexican superhero would work. He would go and save gringos in peril (as long as it wasn't during siesta) lost gringos in Mexico looking for bathrooms and beer (donde estan los sanitarios? Una cerveza mas, por favor). To fly, he would use the power of farts, because God knows he eats enough frijoles (refried beans). He would come down next to you using his sombrero as a parachute. Then give you a bottle of tequila to make you forget. Except it wouldn't work because Mexicans would not give up a bottle of tequila. Or go work for no pay. Unless they're in the states...

So what do you think?

What to expect when you're expecting

I know what to expect when you're expecting. I've had three kids, and I am pretty funny, so I am a good person to be blogging about parenting, babies and expecting on whattoexpect.com. The problem? I get paid to do it so for some reason, I do it less. I am calling my own self out right now as a reminder that I only have to post twice a month, we are the 30th and I haven't done it yet.

How dumb is that?

You think this will happen when writing stand-up comedy and television shows?

Maybe if I think about all the homework I have to do for tomorrow, I'll get my baby blog on?

Guess what I'm supposed to be doing?

How do I work in a group?

My favorite class should be exported into classrooms and offices everywhere. Creativity class blows my mind. If you want a taste, buy the book 'Thinkertoys' and you will start to get it. There are so many ways to get your creative juices flowing. Seemingly endless ways to find new ideas.

I can't stop gushing about it!

So why do I have trouble doing the homework? I feel like the class has given me a safety net. I know what to do if I need help to write. There seems to always be a way to get out of a funk. And just when you learn one way, another way reveals itself. So that's why I can't analise what I do wrong when, with these tools, I should be all good.

Today I figure out how I work in a group. But that's all relative. Everything is relative, and we have techniques to get things working for any group too. Am I just being lazy? Or have a really absorbed what I am supposed to have to?

Quick, be productive-

Now that's funny! There's nothing that leads less to being productive than having to do so quickly, which is basically what I'm being asked to be all week.

Not only do I have to be productive, but I have to be creative too. Now, I'm a pretty creative person, but pulling jokes out of my ass for joke class, or delving into my psyche for creativity, or birthing a number for next Friday is not something I can do as easily as I make my bed and wash the dishes. And just to clarify, I basically never do either of those things.

I'm at school, getting ready to start trying to do my homework. I've been here for 3 hours talking and fucking around. And not the fun fucking around, the fucking around that means doing stupid things fully dressed. Boo!

Alright, so if I start at 2, by the time it's 5 I might have some stuff done. One, two, three... Who wants to take a break?

First Friday over

We have these things called Fridays. I know what you're going to say: Annie, I'm pretty sure we all have those. Good! I like a quick audience. I'm not talking about the day of the week, although the Fridays I'm talking about do end up falling on a Friday (go figure). I'm talking about comedy!school and our creation class.

We've been sitting pretty in a sort of comedy laboratory for the first 4 weeks of school, trying numbers out on our class, really whatever we wanted. I am not the best at trying out characters, and I cannot hold an accent or a speech pattern for 1 minute, let alone 5. That's basically what I tried out, with varying degrees of success (still can't hold a speech pattern or accent).

Our first Friday just ended and the 11 of us were quite good, if I do say so myself. I was proud that although we all, with nerves, went over our 5 minutes, every one of us knew our text and every one of us was inventive. There are no weak links in our class. I take this as a good thing, because I want everyone to succeed and to push each other to be better. That said, there is rarely room for everyone to succeed it seems, so it does make me sad.

I've got to feed three kids and my overgrown adolescent husband, I need to be one of those people who succeed. I need to transcend. I probably need to be a man... Ok, so I don't, but if I had a dick it would be a lot easier to succeed. How come my monologues go over better when a guy does them, even when they don't even have good comedic timing? Actually, I don't mind being a writer, as long as I get to live doing something I love.

Back to now: joke writing is freaking hard. We have a class that teaches us all the types of jokes, which we usually write into a monologue. In that class, we have to pluck them out of thin air with no topic, set up or text, hope they're original and correct and FUNNY. That class will be my downfall. Seriously.

On another note, I need my hair done badly. I used to laugh at people that went to the hairdresser, now I don't want to get laughs because my hair is ridiculous. Especially if my hair is funnier than the jokes I'm doing which, if it were the case, kill me now.

Moderation is a foreign concept

It's comical, not funny, that I am here right now. Life seems to put me in the same situation over and over again until I learn, but I can't seem to do more than recognize that fact.

I wish someone would come in a tell me what to do and fix all my problems, which is ironic because I really wanted to stand on my own. I sincerely wished for a man who wouldn't challenge me for control, who wouldn't make more money that me and lord it over me... I wished for my husband and got him.

But I was 22 then. What the hell did I know? Couldn't I have wished for an equal? Couldn't I have wished for someone to lean on?

It's almost 3am. I'm sitting on my bright pink davenport in my new house next to my sleeping 9-month old. My stomach is turning from the food I inhaled after being awake so long since the last time I ate. I am procrastinating. I don't want it to be tomorrow. Tomorrow brings more things to do and therefore more things I'm not doing.

I did end up writing alternate lyrics to the song 16 candles to fit my mother's 60th birthday, which I had to do last week. Better late than... oh, who cares. I want beer!

There's nothing worse than waiting for something that never arrives. My husband said he would go and hang out at his brother's for a few hours. He needs to get up early to head to Toronto with our boys to see Toronto FC play Real Madrid, so he said he would come home early.

Staying home tonight with a baby and two exited and exitable boys when I had other plans was not what I hoped for, but I wished him well, asking for beer as a sign of his gratitude.

Guess who got in a half-hour ago with no beer. I fucking hate him right now, but I shouldn't right?

A mother and responsible person should not freak out over beer. But I sort of wanna cry.