oh look, an empty box. do i have anything to say?

june sixteenth. christ.

not much else.

something about dick schall's workshop being pushed back a couple of weeks to get people in, something like, if my only reason to not take the class is the money, then talk to him, he'll work it out. he wants to open a second city in tampa. what the hell is going on? i'm in the penis dialogues this tuesday (!) and the next, and i may be doing a one time show for vegetarian (...) comedians. at steph's party, michelle asked me what i was doing and i said comedy and she said, "well. that makes sense." does it really? because i still think it the strangest thing. a year before it had ever crossed my mind, paul was telling me to go to second city in chicago, and then i thought he was insane. i enjoy it though. or i wouldn't be doing it.

i worry though.. that i only get one. and if i had to choose i can tell you it wouldn't be comedy. it would be music. it might even be writing. and i'm not doing anything with those. that's not true.. i'm playing music now. but i'm new to it in a lot of ways so it's wonderful but in some ways it's frustrating. it's part of the fun, of course.

nooo, that's not fun. i just experienced fun. fun is bright white light coming through blinds and my mind goes 'what the hell is going on!" but doesn't have time to think it cause sound and energy are pulled toward the ground something like a god saying hello! BANG! i knew it was outside but i thought it was going to hit me.

it was probably across the street.

and then again. definetly across the street.

what do you want, hm?