Me on "Hello Beautiful"

My bit on Chicago Public Radio is up! Here's the link to the edited six minute version that features just my segment.

Here is the link to the longer segment on the WBEZ site, where the full program can be heard.

As I mentioned before, this is a zippy little interview all about the beginning of my stand-up adventure, starting with the eBay auction of my stage fright and my first open mic.

Hometown Girl (Me) Shoves Off, Gets Press

Oh my, things are progressing at quite a disconcerting pace here.

Yes, as I hinted on Twitter, there is some knee-knockingly amazing comedy career news taking shape. I'm going to have to learn a lot in a big hurry and get over more of this shyness. More details forthcoming.

Among recent developments, my hometown paper has profiled me. The headline: "Everybody laughs at the shy girl."

I'm so (typically) embarrassed.

But thank you, Zionsville Times-Sentinel intern Kelly Shaw! You did a bang-up job.

And thank you, Nancy Beckett, for saying such nice things about me.

It's Going to be SO Funny, No, Seriously...

Do my blog readers look to the left and check out my Twitter posts? Just curious.

Anyway, I can't sleep. Again. This time for reasons of excitement, rather than bone-rattling, soul-smothering anxiety. Two things:

I've been asked to perform in show written and directed by Second City instructors and directors. Very flattering. Very outside my comfort zone, but what the hell? If there's one thing I've learned lately, it's never say never.

And -- the biggie -- I just got approval for Bastion/Apiary sponsorship for the stand-up comedy showcase I want to produce and perform in here in Chicago. I was going to do some nerdy-ass "and here, I will type the name of my showcase for the first time, to boldly declare to the universe that blah blah blah" but then I stopped myself. It's too cool a name, and I'm feeling uncharacteristically superstitious, I don't want anybody stealing it. I also don't want to lose my own enthusiasm and wuss out.

Anyway, also, this (NSFW) video is effing hilarious. Enjoy it, and enjoy thinking about what your dear Bella might be able to do for herself and her merry band of comic misfits if she secures her own stage and can create a place for some really cool stuff to evolve. (Maybe she'll stop referring to herself in the third person, because that crap is annoying.)

I'm Quitting the Internet

Edit: I did something constructive with my annoyance. I called for more contributors...again. And I can't believe this, but I told my readers to choke down a bottle of "Chill The F*ck" out pills. But in a funny, loving way.

Ever feel like quitting the entire internet? There is some volatile crap blowing up on the Bastion today. 77 inflamed comments and counting. I wonder if any of these people who are so full of criticism and anger have any idea that I put hundreds of hours of work into this as a labor of love, and that I'm routinely bombed with more e-mail requests for reviews and listings than I could ever possibly keep up with. Infrequently (but sometimes) people are actually pissy with me about not being able to see and review their shows, which is unfathomable to me.

Guess what, rare but bothersome jerkasses? I'd love to a have a New York Times-sized staff, and be able to offer exhaustive coverage of every single show going on in Chicago, so that you don't feel like, by virtue of not being written about, you're being snubbed.

I keep looking for more writers, but even people who are willing are busy, and until that dream team of Pulitzer Prize winners is in place behind MacBooks in my swank high-rise offices, it's me and Kristy running the show, and I also have a job, and friends and family and a life, so piss off.

Also, we're a blog, which is an opinion-based medium. We can actually write about whatever we want. And P.S., anyone can start a blog. The medium is wild, wooly, lawless frontier. Please feel free to start your own, and write about the things you think should be written about.

Sigh. Sorry. So inappropriate. As a palate cleanser, a pit bull playing with baby chicks:

Walk On. A Little Tougher, a Little Stronger. Walk On.

I'm playing Brandi Carlile's "Story" on repeat and I'm breaking one of the key rules of blogging and internet communication, one you can lump in with "don't write when you're drunk or angry," which is "don't write when you're grieving or underslept." I did not sleep at all last night. Not a bit. I dreaded the sun creeping up the horizon over the glimmering water, but it came, casting pink shadows across my bed.

Last night Kristy and I and hundreds of others gathered at an old Catholic church on the south side of Chicago for Pat Brice's funeral mass, which began about an hour and a half late because the line of people wanting to offer condolences to his mother, father, brother, and sister-in-law wrapped all the way around the block.

The church was absolutely full. People stood in every square inch of the Nativity of Our Lord. As soon as we got out of the car, the sound of church bells chiming out "Danny Boy" immediately brought tears. The words of his family ring in my ears. They looked so shocked. We held their hands and they thanked us for the fact that the Bastion has become a default online memorial for their son. I can't stop thinking about them. Then there were his friends, among them his fellow Blerds. These blustering, boisterous comedy boys who can wring a joke out of anything, staggering around, red-eyed, bewildered. It just felt wrong. It felt like a terrible cosmic mistake had been made.

I didn't know Pat well, but you didn't have to know him to sense the kind of special person he was by measuring the immense amount of grief in this room. This gorgeous, smart, funny, sweet boy, already so good at what he did but not even close to the fruition of the promise of his talent - gone.

Before I go totally off the rails, I will sharpen my point, a realization I'm coming to understand with a painful but beautiful clarity: there is no such thing as "closure." That's a meaningless sound bite that is repeated when people have a camera in their face and are trying to make some media-friendly sense of tragic and painful events.

Life involves pain and loss. People hurt us, whether intentionally or blindly. People are lost to us. Random chance cheats us, stings us, bites us. Life will always offer, along with delights, hurts. They are a part of why we're able to offer compassion to others, part of why we're able to create art, part of the darker range of the color palette that lets us appreciate the contrasting bright tones in those beautiful moments when they present themselves.

For what often feels like a terribly wasteful long time, I suspended my own progress in life. I used to think that I'd have to wait for certain hurts to subside before continuing on with my life and really going after the things I wanted to do. I felt diminished, and weakened, and unworthy to walk ahead on my path and find my future and fulfill my promise. I waited in a small apartment in a small town in Indiana for years and years, living a small life, losing track of the days, tossing and turning in a restless walking sleep, with a dull ache I thought would subside with time. It didn't.

It's not fair that this amazing young man is gone, but he is. It's not fair, and it doesn't make sense, and it hurts, but life hurts, and we have to walk on anyway, with some heaviness in our hearts, and a sting with certain memories, and lingering sense of disappointment. We have to walk on anyway. I want to grow enough to understand that, and accept that, and live that - and walk on. It starts today.

Interview with Posh Spice's "PA Spice"

My Chicago comedy friend Renee Gauthier has given me (as the Bastion) an exclusive on "her experience working as Victoria Beckham's personal assistant on the show Victoria Beckham: Coming To America," which aired last night on NBC.

It's a pretty awesome and hilarious interview, if you ask me.

Give it a peek, and get answers to questions like "What, if anything, does Posh eat in a 24-hour period?" "Does she think her tits look good?" "What's the deal with Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes suddenly being BFF with the Beckhams?" and much, much more.

Chicago Comedy Loses a Friend

Chicago comedy is going to have a quiet week. One of our stand-up friends, Pat Brice, not even 30 years old, passed away over the weekend while attending a friend's wedding out of town. We don't know any details yet but we're all very very saddened and in shock. We're sharing the news over on the Bastion.

I didn't know Pat well, having only said hello to him at parties and shows several times, but the outpouring of grief from all of his friends is heartbreaking.

Just another painful reminder that we don't know how much time we have on this earth to pursue our dreams and show love to the people we care about.

Don't screw around. Don't waste time. Don't let the fears and insecurities we all suffer from keep you from going after the things you want to do in life.

Chicago comedy loves you and misses you, Pat.

I See You Over There in the Corner, Comedy. We'll Chat Again Soon

I've been squinting at comedy out of the corner of my eye for the last few weeks. I've been so overwhelmed with new writing jobs and other things that I've had to delegate some opportunities for comedy interviews with some of my idols, including Janeane Garofalo and Patton Oswalt. Truth be told, these interviews just wouldn't have happened if it had just been up to me, and I wouldn't have come up with all the intelligent and informed questions Dan did.

This part made me especially happy. Patton actually said to Dan: "I'm talking to really cool people that are also going to share my enthusiasm for, if not just comedy but just for the arts. And for just things. Easy to talk to. Like the way that we are talking right now, this is more just like a conversation it's not some guy going (in a nasally voice) 'Well how would you define comedy?' You know? I'm actually talking to comedy fans, which is great."

Patton also said this, when Dan asked him about advice for new comedians: "Go on stage a lot. Just go on stage a lot. Find your own venue. Find your own space. Work on just making those five minutes really count. And if there's not enough stage time, go create your own stages."

I've also been playing hooky at open mics where friends have continued to work and make great progress (check out the fancy video editing by Dan, all of the sudden!):

The hilarious and clever Rebecca:


The delightfully annoyed Dan:

Thirteen Funny Boys Turn One, Several Girls Eat Cupcakes and Chipotle

More insomnia. Maybe blogging is a bad thing to do right now, but sometimes it helps me clear my head. Let's hope it does the trick.

I rode my bike in the rain to Sloan's happily full and noisy house and wrote all day. Turned in the first draft of my biggest article so far. It's still patchy - I need to nail down a few more interviews and testimonials, but my editor thought the writing was great, and he didn't fire me, so I guess I'm doing okay with that.

Saturday night was two special occasions - the Blerds' one year anniversary party/my girl K-Rock's 29th birthday, both happening at the Spot off the Wilson stop, and I decided to forego my usual dweeby stay-at-home ways and stick it out 'til the end. I prepared like it was a triathlon. I hydrated all day. I napped. I worked out - twice. I ate a whole Chipotle burrito (with guac, 'cause that's the way I roll) right before jumping on the CTA to the Spot. I paced myself with my drinkies.

I brought a cupcake cake emblazoned with a sweetly iced "Happy Birthday, K-Rock! Chicago Comedy." I waited 'til the room was full and made Mike Bridenstine and Fay Canale lead everyone in a noisy "Happy Birthday, Dear K-Rock." I hugged her about five times. The cupcakes were yoinked off the table one by one until someone finally got too drunk and knocked the tray onto the ground. (This was a Blerds party, after all.) There were upside-down cupcakes everywhere. I laughed. I talked so much I'm still hoarse. I...shut down the bar. But I didn't go crazy - I was being pulled toward two after parties but politely begged off.

There were many cute comedy boys there. TJ Miller showed up late, as usual, and I made "hey, you!" fingers at him from across the room. Later, a bunch of people watched the pilot for his new ABC show, Carpoolers. (He moved to L.A., permanently, the next day.) I made sure to say hi to everyone I hadn't officially met. People don't believe me when I say this, but I actually am shy, and it's hard for me to walk up to someone I don't know and introduce myself. But I did it that night, again and again. What the hell. Gotta outgrow it sometime.

Lots of them said "Oh, yeah, I've seen your picture on your blog!" The more beers they'd had, the more likely they were to schmoop all over me with "I owe the Bastion my career" and "I wouldn't have a manager and an agent if it weren't for you!" Blah blah. Ridiculous. One chatted with me for awhile and then said "Oh my god, you talk just like you write! That's hilarious!" I think that's code for "Wow, you talk like a dork, too!"

Many shots were offered. Many shots were politely declined. There's shiny happy partially sunburned me at left, pushing a wayward party boob onto poor unsuspecting Jordan Vogt-Roberts, brilliant director of all the Blerds short films, and a somewhat shell-shocked looking Mike Burns, Chicago-turned-NYC comedian and Blerd.

The next day Sloan and I took a friend's dog to the beach, walked for miles, and then plopped lazily by the water eating, yes, more Chipotle. It was the best weekend I've had in a long time, and summer's not even started yet.

Hey, whaddya know, insomniac blogging did the trick. I'm going to sleep now. See you tomorrow, er, today. Whatever.

Writing, Writing, and More Writing. Also, Vanity Pictures

Where have I been all week? I've hardly blogged at all. Well, I've been writing my tail off, and battling some illness. Minor insomnia and possibly food-related illness. I'll spare you the details. Today I'm chugging Pedialyte and getting lots of sleep.

I just turned in the final draft of my first piece for Chicago Magazine, a snappy little article about comedian Carol Leifer, who will be playing a show at the Lakeshore Theater in August. I spoke to Miss Leifer on the phone and my nerves were immediately soothed by her mega friendliness. I'm so excited to be published in such a well-respected magazine and hope to wrangle more regular assignments from them in the future.

I'm also working on my first piece for Builder/Architect, about a big Chicago-based realty group. It's tough getting some of these busy and super successful realty folks on the phone long enough for a proper interview, but I'm so happy to be working as a writer that I'm appreciating every challenge as a learning experience.

Also this week I published an interview with comedian Aziz Ansari, whose new show "Human Giant" is all over MTV these days. Comedy Central Insider mentioned my article, and I have to say I was really nervous talking to Aziz, up until I asked the question about the little boy he cast as the talent agency president, and then we both relaxed and the whole thing got rolling very nicely. That just goes to show me again that when I follow my instincts and ask about the things I'm really interested in, that's where the gold is, and everyone is happy - me, my interviewee, and my readers. (Do yourself a favor and watch this clip of Bobb'e J. Thompson, a ten year old actor who Aziz calls "the most amazing performer I've ever seen.")

I've also been playing more with my new Mac, totally not figuring out all the graphics stuff I need to do, but having a sick amount of fun with Photo Booth and iMovie. With some of the fancy filters they have, you can take pictures of yourself fresh out of bed in the morning, ungroomed and puffy-eyed, and still look pretty cool! Ah, technology. It's such a tool of vanity.