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About that show I did in Canada and a note about stand up


Here I am, totally unaware someone is taking a photo

It’s called Switch and it premieres tomorrow on TVTropolis at 9:30pm. I did six episodes and I’m not sure the order they’re airing them so I’m not sure if I’m in tomorrow’s episode. Here are more photos from the set.

Oh and a note about the Oct. 4 stand up gig at this year’s Funniest Reporter show. I thought it was at Gotham Comedy Club but it’s at Comic Strip Live. Write it on your hand!

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Identity Crisis, part 413

So yet again I’m wondering how I should be labeling myself. I’m wondering this specifically because I’m on Red Eye tonight and they’ve taken to referring to me as a self-professed pop culture expert and contributing editor to Page Six Magazine. And I am both those things but I’m also a blogger, writer and sort of comedian. I mean, I’m funny. Like really fucking funny. Sometimes I look at myself and just laugh and laugh. Sometimes I drink milk and think of something I said and then shoot milk out my nose. Then I drink coke and think about the milk and the coke comes out my nose! Seriously, you should never sit across from me. I’m like Gallagher but with beverages. Also, I’ve never really shot drinks out of my nose. Who does that? So should I be introduced as a blogger and comedian? A writer, blogger and comedian? And fake body language expert.

While in Canada, DJ from Roseanne (ok fine, his name is Michael Fishman) said “so, what are you?” and I hemmed and hawed (note: I’ve never written hawed before. It looks wrong somehow. It looks wrawng) and then Amelie Gillette whose name I’m likely misspelling suggested I be a “fun-dit.”

I liked it until my brain started hearing fun-dip and then I got distracted.

Anyway, yesterday I ran into an editor-in-chief in the bathroom, which is truly my favorite place to run into people I’m slightly intimidated by and she asked me what my plans are for 2009. “Was thinking I’d put on some lip gloss and get the fuck out of here!” I didn’t say. Instead I hemmed and hawed (TWICE in one blog post!)

Maybe I should just put it out there to the universe? That I’d like to one day host my own funny late night talk show that doesn’t have to be late at night and I’d also like to write more cover stories for well-paying national magazines and I’d like to finally master these splenda meringues because sometimes the egg whites aren’t as voluminous as I’d like?

Do I dare say all this?

Oh, also, I’d like to write a book, write comedy and nail the Russian shuffle. (so-called because one card is “rushin‘” right after the other. TRULY! I KID YOU NOT! I WOULD NOT LIE TO YOU!)

I’ve spent more time today on the shuffle than on the book. See, the other night I was watching Red Eye, the one with the BEST OF 2008 segment, which is essentially like googling yourself except less instant feedback and more fast forwarding and I had to put up with the first half which had real guests and stuff. I think the topic was New Year’s resolutions and Clayton Morris mentioned that he wanted to shuffle cards in a cool way and I think Bill maybe said he did too and that reminded me that that was once MY dream. And yet I abandoned it like a newborn in a dumpster. See this blog post for what happened.

But in the years since, the internet has improved when it comes to card shuffling and now I don’t have to settle for magic tricks. So I’m teaching myself how to do this stuff. I’m at about 55 percent at this point, meaning I can shoot cards all around the room and then roll over them with a computer chair.

Also, who can almost do the ribbon spread? I so almost can! And the one-handed fan. But the Russian shuffle is really the piece de resistance. I mean, once you master that bad boy you won’t even mind that you don’t have any dates.

The Ribbon Spread

Between this, raising each of my eyebrows individually and blowing spit bubbles off the end of my tongue, how can I fail?

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Interior design from TV shows and movies

I should be packing. I should be packing clothes for LA and Canada and I should be putting things in bottles and then ziploc bags and I should also be stuffing socks into shoes. By my own logic, I plan to go naked in Orange County.

Anyway though, I just found this site about how to get the set design looks from TV and movies and it’s cool

For someone who has so little style, it’s weird that I’m spending so much time reading about style. I don’t plan to apply it. I just like to look at the pictures. And yet my words have style. Sometimes I speak entirely in corduroy.

Also, Gossip Girl made me cry tonight.

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Furniture frottage

So I think maybe it gets worse before it gets better because while I feel much saner about the couch these days—meaning I feel like eh, it’s a couch, there are a lot of different colors I could be happy/unhappy with—I will admit that yesterday one of the sales guys at Crate and Barrel caught me surreptitiously lean down and then rub my face against a couch cushion. I had to see how it would feel if I were napping on it! It was a nap test!

But perhaps the way I did it, as if I wanted to get a better look at something and then oops, lost my balance! I seem to have fallen forward and landed on my cheek, I better just sweep to the right before getting up—wasn’t the coolest. And then when the guy looked at me across the store, and he had this expression of horror on his face, I shot him a steely “let’s not tell anyone about this,” look. It’s ok though, because I caught him making a huge furniture faux pas a couple weeks ago. He told me two couches were made by the same manufacturer when they so are not.

You see, I could sell that store’s furniture, that’s how intimately acquainted I am with each line and each collection and each manufacturer and each couch’s cheek feel.

Tomorrow I go to LA for MINI. Then I’m in Orange County for Thanksgiving and my dad’s bday (all his kids and their spouses and kids are coming! I’m bringing three husbands, four kids and a turtle) and then I’m going to Canada to film six episodes of a TV show. I’m not sure which one yet but if I had my choice it would be “You Can’t Do That On Television.”

That’s not true. It would be Facts of Life. I don’t care that it wasn’t filmed in Canada. But I actually do know which show. I just don’t want to tell you because I like to keep secrets from you. It makes me feel important. You know, like I’m on the inside of something and you’re on the outside of it, pressing your face against the glass—or the couch cushion of my heart—begging to be let in. Look, here we are, all of us on this side of the couch cushion having a jolly time and totally knowing the name of the TV show and laughing and saying “aboot” when we mean “about” and paying in dollars that are called dollars but are different! And there you are, alone and confused, wishing you could be included, mumbling something about maple. It’s so sad.

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