Archive for the 'schizoprenia' Category

Compromise vs. Acceptance

I recently came across this quote by Chinua Achebe:

One of the truest tests of integrity is its blunt refusal to be compromised.”

And it really spoke to me. I’ve been struggling a lot lately with the direction I want to take my act in – not because I’m uncomfortable with my material or persona, but because my father has a huge problem with it.

I said the word “bitch” on Comedy Central. I think it’s the second bit in the clip below:

After the show aired my father reamed me for cussing on TV. I told him that you can say “bitch” on the networks. But he wasn’t trying to hear me.

I see comedy nite in and nite out – all kinds of comics with varying styles. And I know that by comedy club/booker standards, I am not a dirty act. I say “bitch” in my act. I occasionally say “shit”. And when I’m referring to this particular incident (which is only of late) I use the ‘mother’ of all cuss words. But only because I’m repeating something I overheard someone else say. And I believe there’s a bigger point to it.

I grew up in a pretty religious household. Nothing fanatical. But my dad was superintendent of the Sunday School and a deacon at our church. So yeah I was at church every Sunday, but my folks weren’t strict and I was always a good girl. But I haven’t gone to church on even a semi-regular basis since I left home to come to DC for college. I honestly felt awful about it in the beginning — I remember the first Sunday I didn’t go to church I felt like there was this big gaping whole in my world. But that feeling began to fade the more and more I slept in. Of course I still believe in God. And with all the blessings I’ve received just these last 6 months in both my professional and personal life, I KNOW I need to be back in church. I joined one about a year ago and I even have a new bit about my trip to church this summer. But I’m out of the habit. And now after a late show on Saturday, its way hard for me to get up and go.

All that to say that while I believe in and thank my parents and extended family for the Christian principles upon which I was raised, I am my own person. And I don’t think it makes me a bad person if I say “bitch” on stage. But my dad is worried that all his friends and former colleagues who see me will be offended by what I say and it’ll reflect poorly upon him. 

Exhale. Continue reading ‘Compromise vs. Acceptance’

Why won’t you be my friend, Rahsaan Patterson?

OK… so I understand that what I’m about to write is extremely corny and that it should embarrass me.

It doesn’t. But I understand why it should.

And I understand that everyone doesn’t use Myspace for self-promotion. Even famous people. Some folks use it just to stay in touch with people they already know.

Totally get it.

But one of my favorite singers doesn’t accept friend requests from comedians and doesn’t allow messages from people he’s not friends with. Which leads me to believe that he actually manages his own page. All the more reason for me to want to send him the message I spent nearly 20 minutes drafting prior to being brickwalled by his privacy settings. I reference him in my ‘Music Interests’ section on my page… I own every single one of his albums, and I actually bought all but one of them (just being honest — sista is on a budget). And I refuse to allow myself to consider the fact that he doesn’t care that I heart him because… well because that would be awful.

So in the wake of the worst Myspace catch-22 ever, here’s my question — How do I get Rahsaan Patterson to be my friend? And does my burning (yes, burning) desire to make him my Myspace friend mean that I’m a huge loser?

(Please note that I only really want an answer to the first part of that question.)

I’m a good friend, Rahsaan. Really I am.

Also the message that comes up on Myspace… “Rahsaan Patterson does not accept friend requests from ‘comedians’” really made me feel like no matter what my page category was, he’d still deny me. Seriously, in my head, I just imagined a nice pleasant operator voice saying, “We’re sorry. Rahsaan Patterson does not accept friend requests from…” And then some really harsh computer generated monster robot voice saying “Co-me-di-ans.” I feel like if my page was categorized as ‘puppies and angels’ it still would have denied me :(

Pleasant operator lady: We’re sorry. Rahsaan Patterson does not accept friend requests from…

Mean monster robot madlib-filler-inner: PUP-PIES and AN-GELS OR ANY-THING ELSE YOU COME UP WITH SO WHY DON’T U GET A LIFE E-RIN JACK-SON.

OK, I’m gonna go try and muster up some self esteem.

EJ. Out.

Good for you or the WGA hates puppies

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The Angel on my right shoulder says: Wow, the Writers Guild is gangsta. No Golden Globes? I never thought it’d go so long. As an aspiring writer, I know if I were in the Guild and I didn’t see a dime from work that was making other people rich, I’d be pissed too. Good for you for sticking in there. I hope that you get what you deserve. Haha… When has anybody ever said ‘I hope you get what you deserve’ and meant it in a positive way? I think maybe that was the very first time.

I am kinda sad that I’m gonna miss seeing the red carpet and all the teary-eyed acceptance speeches. But I must say I’m impressed that the actors have refused to cross the picket lines. They’re supposed to be selfish and vain. It’s kinda refreshing…

Long live the WGA.

The devil on my left shoulder says: The WGA hates bald eagles, and apple pie, and baseball, and Doritos…and puppies—everything that makes this country great. I rushed to the movies to see all the major contenders over the last month or so. I was prepared…I saw No Country for Old Men, The Great Debaters, Juno, The Kite Runner… just so I could have an opinion come Golden Globe night! How dare they? How could they be so selfish and vain? I spent nearly $100 on movie tickets, theatre parking, and snacks over the past month and ALL I GET is some bootleg NBC newscast of winners’ names? This blows… No Denzel in a tux? No smart ass acceptance speech from cute little Ellen Page? (You know she’s gonna win). No text messaging my girl Angi about how fabulous Queen Latifah looks? (It’s inevitable).

I hate the WGA.


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