My New Girl Crush: Diablo Cody

I just read all the way through the blog of Diablo Cody, who wrote "Juno." I haven't even seen the movie but I'm already in love with Diablo, who is 29, a blogger-turned-comedy-screenwriter from Chicago, and is my new role model.

I just e-mailed my Bucket of Nerds co-horts and I was like "read this! She's amazing!" I especially love the way she is making a point of enjoying every part of her success - even the stuff most people whine about, like press junkets and non-stop travel for interviews.

Here's why Diablo still believes in blogging:

"Blogging helped me cultivate a voice in a way," Cody says. "But the thing that is most useful about it is just doing a daily writing exercise. You're using the muscle even as it stagnates in a cubicle or wherever."

Also, "Diablo Cody's Tips On Blogging Your Way To Hollywood Success": "...don't look for a plan. Put your blog out into the world and hope that your talent will speak for itself."

Post-Holiday Blah Blah Blah

Merry Day After Christmas!

I've decided to post here and at Bucket of Nerds, sort of alternating, and not double posting.

That means everything you see from me here is exclusive Bella Rossa content. I know, what a pants-jolting thrill, right? It's like when they introduced unsalted saltines to a grateful American cracker market. Lives were changed! Paradigms shifted. We broke on through to the other side.

Above is another "oops my big fat head is in the way" MacBook photo people like to make fun of me for taking too many of. I was trying to get a "Christmas tree in infinite mirrors" photo...I look like a steamed albino.

Merry MTS3K Christmas!

Noche Buena! Sorta.

Merry Christmas Eve, everyone! My parents are in from Indiana and in a little bit I'm going to swaddle myself in 345 layers of flannel and stagger blindly through the snow to my brother's house for a little celebration. I am glad to chill with the 'rents and once again grateful for the Spanish influence in our family, because it means we celebrate Noche Buena, which is like regular Christmas Eve except it has darker hair and eyes, a very sexy accent, and is married to Melanie Griffith.

But holy snowballs, this weather! Yes, as of yesterday in Chicago, we went from "Oh, isn't winter charming? Look at those drifting snowflakes." to "OmiGODIcan'tfeelmyface OWiciclesinmyNOSEthisisgoingtoKILLME." Nellie and I ran around last night looking for parking in various neighborhoods and ended up doing a lot of panicked screaming as the subzero Chicago wind smacked us across the face, as if to say "Do you really want to leave your house? Do you really want to do the comedy thing tonight? Really?" Yeah, bitter lakeshore breeze, we really want to get out and see our friends being funny. Step off.

A side note: two years ago, when I was still living in my old apartment, I was experiencing some side effects of my building's tendency to have our heat totally cranked or totally off. At that time, my big whine was frozen shampoo in my bathroom. This year, it's hot toothpaste in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom. Hot toothpaste. That can't be a good thing.

Kids In The Hall Tribute Post

Kids in the Hall. Would I be funny if I hadn't grown up watching them? Maybe. The point is, they're awesome.

This sketch, with the brilliant and adorable Bruce McCullough, must have taken a deep dive into my memory years ago, because when I saw it again the other day, I almost screamed out loud: "That's the reason I wanted an absurd and ridiculous song in the middle of my Second City sketch!"

Right now Bruce McCullough is directing and writing for one of my friends. Amazing.

Enjoy this NSFW (due to naughty language) clip.

Double Posting!

I've decided to post everything I'm putting on Bucket of Nerds here as well. It might be unnecessary but it's satisfying my OCD/ADD/hyper-organizy impulses right now. I'm going to backdate the preceding few posts to catch up, and then starting today I'll post in both places at the same time.

Every Woman I Know Has Sent Me This Link

...and, as a comedy person, I get a lot of e-mails from friends and family, saying "isn't this hilarious?" Often it's not. But I have a soft spot for Mrs. Hughes. Awww, her name is Carol, just like my mom. Apparently she didn't start doing stand-up until she was forty.

“Years ago I heard Merv Griffin interview Phyllis Diller, and she said she started doing comedy when she was thirty-nine. I remember saying to myself, ‘I could do that.’"

Nellie recently pointed out the fact that Diller was in her thirties before she began doing comedy, as well, since I continually fight this nagging feeling of "I waited too long to start comedy, blah blah self-defeatingcakes."

It's never too late! Go forth and blossom, funny people! The world needs a good laugh. Rock on, Mrs. Hughes.

Seasonal Affective Disorder, Part Two

I keep forgetting to drag my official, patented, legitimate medical device (AKA therapeutic light box) out of the front closet.

The New York Times is all, "Elizabeth! Plug in the box!"

And Maria Bamford is all, "Elizabeth! Plug in the box!" (Go to the halfway mark in the video to see Maria using her own therapeutic light box).

Children Are Annoying The World 'Round

"Pa pa pants man!" A Japanese toilet training cartoon, including a singing, dancing turd. You may find it strange, but I can't make boom boom without my theme song, either:



Little German sadists prove that kids pulling an Oedipal punch to the face is hilarious in any language:

"Your Sunday Best" at Schubas Last Sunday Night

Sunday, Sloan and I went to Schubas for the "Your Sunday Best" showcase, featuring our pals Prescott Tolk, John Roy, Fay Canale, Dan Telfer, Tony Blanco, Brady Novak, Joe Kilgallon, and Joe Fernandez. (Two weeks before, every Nerd in the Bucket was there! All four of us! Can you imagine?)

I put together this highlight reel, because I'm lazy and I didn't want to have to write for the Bastion today.

Useful Application of Technology To Kittycats

Scientists in South Korea have cloned cats who glow in the dark.

In the daylight, they're adorable fluffy white little babykins.

In the dark, they look like little rabid pigbats. If I saw one of those on my front porch at 4:30 AM I'd think it was a sick possum and try to whack it with a shovel out of sheer terror.

Science, we need to have a talk. Hold my hand, it's okay.

Science, you know I love you, right? Once I made that transition from early childhood science fiction to real science, and I went from the joys of Asimov to the humbling beauty of Tsiolkovsky, and then I had that incredible science professor, Father Leo, at Marian back in Indiana, you know it's only been about me and you, right? I mean, I know that official piece of paper says "history" and not "science," but a piece of paper can't tell you anything about love, sugar.

I love you, science. But here's the thing: you're starting to scare me a little. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Slow down there, fella.

Keith Richards Is Awesome

Supposedly this is from the early '80's. Perhaps after John Lennon's death rock stars were a little more leery of fans storming the stage. Watch Keith spot the intruder, whing off his guitar, whack the guy twice on the head before security gets there, and then swing his guitar right back into place and start playing again, in the space of about 15 seconds.

Star Wars Figures that Didn't Make the Cut

"The Force." A box of nothing. A ha ha ha!

From McMorran.

Three Handy Tips For Battling Winter Depression

Like a lot of people of mostly Northern European descent, I have a tendency toward seasonal affective disorder, or, to use the clinical term, "not giving a shit about anything/disconnectedly taking note of my precipitously falling self-esteem/teetering on the brink of a hollow, meaningless existence between December and April."

This is partly due to the genetics my hardy but sullen ancestors handed down to me. On my father's side, I'm descended from Amish people, who reinforced whatever depressive tendencies they may have had by, after fleeing murderous mobs throughout Europe, deciding to forever live the lives of 16th century agrarian peasants here in America. It's nothing but horse shit, itchy fabrics, butter churning, self-denial, and collectively-imposed ignorance and isolation for my people, which I'm sure you'll agree is the quickest path toward a joyless existence.

Granted, whatever genetic predisposition I may have toward being a bit "glass half empty," I don't help myself much by, once the days become shorter and colder, fortifying myself with cheap whiskey, burrowing under the covers in abject defeat, reflecting -- in a particularly self-punishing German and Catholic way -- on man's inhumanity to man, and avoiding personal contact as much as possible.

But I'm here to tell you that we're not powerless in this fight. There is hope. Winter depression doesn't have to get the better of you.

My tips for others with a tendency toward the morose:

#1. Consider engaging in a bit of wanton promiscuity, even if such behavior is not part of your usual character. Sex is an important part of health, and being extra slutty in the winter offers several depression-battling advantages. It gets you out of the house to meet people, boosts the old adrenaline and oxytocin levels, and is excellent, calorie-burning cardio, which boosts your endorphins, too. Don't worry yourself with thoughts like "But will this evolve into a healthy relationship?" or "But I'm not actually gay." What's important is that you're meeting people again, and you're connecting -- even if you're not making eye contact or remembering names.

#2. Boost your mood with high doses of amphetamines and other stimulants. Stock up on that ADD medication and buzz, vibrate, and shock your nervous system into a frenzy of activity. If you can't afford ADD meds, and are too depressed even to beat up school kids for their Ritalin or Adderal, try espresso or Red Bull. You won't be able to think clearly enough to accomplish anything, or speak without grinding your teeth and scaring people, but you'll break out into a nice little jittery sweat and terrify your heart into pumping just a little bit faster, which is almost like feeling happy.

#2. As a last resort, attach a car battery to the most conductive parts of your body. For some people it's nipples, for others, fingertips. Who can afford those fancypants ECT treatments? Not me. Shock yourself into feeling something...anything. It's not just a metaphor: between your skin and your organs there is actually a thin layer of tiny batteries that can't be neglected. This is what those usually bullshitty holistic types mean when they say "recharge your batteries." Just be sure to slather yourself with aloe vera, cocoa butter, or some other electricity-conducting substance first, and maybe dab a little extra anti-frizz serum on the ends of your hair, too.

If none of these approaches help, consider my latest strategy: gather three of your nuttiest friends together and start a obsessive, immersive comedy project. Out of all that craziness should surely come some creative brilliance, right? Well, unless you're just "boring" crazy, and not "cool" crazy. In which case, reconsider that whole "whiskey and avoidance" thing I mentioned earlier. That might be the way to go. Whatever. What the fuck. Do I give a shit?

How Much Cute Can You Handle?

I'm idly picking through the internet on this lazy Saturday afternoon, trading videos with a friend. I've just finished convincing him that, in fact, I was lame enough to edit and post a two-minute video of my cat Calpurnia eating edamame (video below):



...when he said "Have you seen the hamster eating broccoli video?" Cuteness off the scale, he insists. So I search on YouTube. Turns out that the world is populated with adorable baby hamsters eating broccoli, because my YouTube search yielded dozens of choices. For your pleasure, I have narrowed it down to the top two most adorable "hamster eating broccoli" videos. Enjoy. Don't thank me, thank the internets!

Follow Me!

Dear beloved readers, Mom, and puzzled, misguided Google search orphans,

Until further notice, I will be taking a break from Bella Rossa and posting on Bucket of Nerds, along with Sloan, Nellie, and Teresa. Group comedy blogging! I've reached new heights of geekery!

We're going to dig in during these next few bleak Chicago months and produce 12 2-5 minute comedy films as Bucket of Nerds. We'll post them as we go, and blog together, too.

Big animated heart gifs to you all.

Three Essential Poses For Chicago Winter

I've been doing a lot of trudging through snowy, sometimes icy, sometimes puddly Chicago streets lately, usually running late, usually carrying a big purse, a camera bag, a laptop bag, a tripod, and sometimes another laptop bag. Because Chicago is colder than polar bear's ass right now, I'm usually also wrapped like a mummy, but with flannel. Between hoods, hats, and scarves, my peripheral vision is dangerously reduced, and have I mentioned that sometimes when I'm going up and down the stairs at various CTA stations throughout Chicago, my old swimmer's knee gives out on me and I stumble to the ground?

Someone at Cheetah needs to teach a yoga class that helps you master the following poses:

#1 About to fall
#2 Falling
#3 Just fell

BBL

May not blog for a little while. Bizzay and a little overwhelmed but excited. A few notes:

There are a lot of inspiring people in my life. A lot of people who make me feel like I can work toward being a better person every day.

I've been watching a lot of her.

Also, "My name is Ulrich Haarbürste and I like to write stories about Roy Orbison being wrapped up in cling-film."

Me at the Lincoln Lodge

Lincoln Lodge Highlights, November 29 & 30, 2007, featuring yours truly (filmed and edited by the Lincoln Lodge). Allison Leber tells one joke at the beginning, and then there's one from me.


EDIT: To clarify the conversation going on in the comments for this post, when I sent an e-mail with this link to family and friends, I also said: "So I had the honor of doing stand-up at the Lincoln Lodge last week. I've actually decided to stop performing for awhile, because the anxiety involved is insane, plus I'm getting busier as a producer, writer, and filmmaker -- with my show and with professional stuff. (I don't know how that happened, either, but I'm going with it.)..."

"Your Sunday Best" at Schubas Last Night

Highlights from this week's "Your Sunday Best," stand-up showcase (filmed and edited by me), featuring Prescott Tolk, Dan Telfer, Victor Marinier, Kristin Carney, Michael Palascak, and C.J. Sullivan:

The Off The Street Club Thanksgiving Dinner

Here's a two minute video I did for work. I guess this constitutes one of my first professional filmmaking projects.

The Off The Street Club Thanksgiving Dinner was on November 23, 2007. I let the kids run around with my camera and take footage and pictures, and then I put this together. The evening was as fun as it looks -- having dinner and hanging out with the kids. The Boy and Girl of the Year Awards were also given out that night, and each winner was adorable in their own way.

From the Club's website:

"The Off the Street Club is Chicago's oldest club for boys and girls, serving the children of the city's most dangerous neighborhood, the West Side. Since its inception in 1900, the Club has been supported mainly by the generous members of Chicago's advertising community. With no government funding, the Club relies on the willing spirits, able bodies, and inspiring generosity of people who know that it is a short trip from poverty to prosperity if children are reached at an early age."