Artists are so emo. Please shoot me.

"Can't stay on your life support, there's a shortage in the switch, I can't stay on your morphine, it's making me itch, I say I'm trying to call the nurse again, but she's being a little bitch, I think I'll get out of here." Pink

Looks like I really identify with this song, because I've just re-heard it after some years and I am so all up in it. Wow! I must be emo right now. Because it's totally resonating, and we all know anyone in the arts has a mental problem, so just shut the fuck up.

I really need divine intervention. The flying spaghetti monster must deliver me a potent number for Friday, and also, if it's not too much, a fucking job for my husband because although I am considering fucking around to take care of womanly needs, I definitely don't want to divorce him, since he is still fucking there and I love him as part of my family. On a wink, wink, unrelated note, anyone know a doctor that can help him with e.d...

I'm at that point where I am creatively a little dead, I am gaining weight and I am so afraid of everything. Although, if you read my leopard post you know I secretly all of a sudden have ambition and know I will kick some sort of ass.

Anyway, I will go back to this number shit and please have a good thought it your heart for me, my debts, my kids teachers, and my mind so it won't forget it needs to do tons of random things I won't remember it anyway.

How to write a 5 minute number in 3 days

1. Pretend it's possible.
2. Find a premise.
3. Write with no regard to style, structure or spelling. 3 to 4 pages so you can cut it down to 2.
4. Go over everything once and see if anything funny comes up.
5. Take away all the ideas that make no sense or suck.
6. Change the order of things until it sort of sounds coherent.
7. Insert old jokes that fit the bill, but don't crowbar anything in.
8. Read it until you can punch at the right places.
9. Stop as soon as you'd rather puke than read it again.
10. Wait 24 hours. Read it again.
11. Stop procrastinating by writing a blog dumb-ass. This shit ain't going to write itself.

Can a leopard change its spots?

It's the age old question, the one right after the fucking chicken and the fucking egg. It's the question I ask myself a version of everyday.

Everyone who makes it in life, not just people at the top but at different echelons of making it, seem to have a combo of 3 things, talent, an iron drive, and luck. To have a drive, I feel most of the time that you have to believe things are possible. You have to push to get them.

Now I always knew I could only amount to a scared girl that is unsure about her potential and that waits around for someone smarter to tell her what to do so she can be alright.

But then I grew up. Life gave me my first son, and I say life because he was planned against and I got him anyway, and then I had a husband who's a very nice man who absolutely cannot be counted on for financial support or understanding of the arts, and then 2 more kids to count on me.

And during this my little phone answering career gave me an idea of how the world works. I figured out I had ethics, I had smarts and a sense of logic that a lot of people don't have and I can lead where I was convinced I was a perpetual follower.

Now, how did this lead me to comedian school? It's a long story.

I just want to know if people can sort of grow ambition later on? Because I sort of feel a little tickling in my brain that seems to have the potential to be ambition. Can we come out of our cocoon something completely different, or do we, even though we evolve, always follow some sort of logical path?

More on this convoluted mess later. When a baby is not crying.