Gut Feeling

I started a post that explains why the site looks so stupid right now.
A large-ish paragraph that could be summed up like this:
We're under construction.
If I had to look at the old template once more I would have puked.
Because I need to see images of myself during most or all times.
Otherwise I get all wobbly in the tummy.
I am so incredibly queezy as a person.
Still.
When I was four I threw up over my swim bag after an hour-long trip to the Aquarena.
(Newfoundland readers: would you believe that this is not the first time I linked the Aquarena?)

25 years later...

I was leaving a gig with Peter White and Bryant Thompson (T-Burger) the other night.
Driving away from Bridgewater to Halifax, which is where I live now.
And I couldn't help but notice that I was getting mildly carsick while in the back seat.
I was high, so it took me some time to realize that it was because I was playing a game on my phone.
Turns out I can't do that in a car.
In retrospect, kind of makes me wish I hadn't bothered buying a game for my phone.
But then, there are still ferry rides and church services that I'll have to while my way through.
Anyway.
The gig didn't suck, necessarily.
But I still managed to hate it somehow.
Ditto for the gig I did Saturday.
Sure, it wasn't awful. It was good, even.
Yet I still hated myself when it was over.
This is normal.
This is "the biz.."
It's exciting to know that I'm progressing on schedule.

Speaking of hating me, I have my first headline set coming up soon.
End of the month.
I guess this is good.
It's good.
It is.
I told Peter White ("this guy again?") when I moved here that I wanted to be headlining within a year or two.
This is not headlining.
I am not and will not be a headliner after doing these shows.
But it's a start.
I'm trying to concentrate on-
Here's the problem.
It's incredibly difficult, at times, to be yourself onstage.
All I want to do is go up there and be myself.
Two issues with that:
1) I can't relax enough to do this (generally), and
2) I have no idea who that is any more.
I don't want to have jokes.
I want to have conversations.

Speaking of which, I have to tell you about Liz' earrings.
But I'll do that in a separate post so that it seems like I'm writing more.
No jokes or pissing around right now, I had no idea that 'separate' was spelled that way until this second.
That's being real with you people.
'Separate' doesn't even look right.
It explains that song by Elliot Smith where he sings this word and it sounds just as it's spelled.
As it has always been spelled.
The song just popped into my head when the auto correct gave me something to talk about for another few lines.
That's another problem, you know.
Now I worry about time.
How much time I'll take up (we're talking about comedy again), how much time I can do.
It's how long I can stretch myself.
I used to do this kind of thing and wish I had more time.
Because I never wanted to get off.
I'm talking about an era before I ever did a comedy set.
See what I mean when I say that I just want to be myself?
Me neither.