Tonight's show

One of the comics I worked with tonight did street jokes for much of his set, which is, like, totally lame in stand-up comedy world. There is no circumstance under which street jokes are an acceptable way to fill your time on stage. It was shocking. This guy was getting paid! Probably more than I was!

The other comic on the show is one of my favorite-favorites, so I had some good laughs. I really love the comedy.

I was on the way home from the show listening to Kimya Dawson's album Hidden Vagenda, which I heartily recommend, when one of the lyrics prompted me to think of another new tagline for the No-legs joke. I'll save it for when you come to a show because it's basically going to make you hate me, but it's dynamite. I called Scott and told him about it, and he laughed until he coughed, which isn't saying much, necessarily, since he's still getting over a terrible sickness*, but it counts.

I had some serious hecklers tonight. I burned one pretty bad early on, which I thought would shut them the fuck up, but it seemed only to fuel their fires. It was tricky, but all I could really do each time is go along with them for a minute and then shut them down. Over and over. It was almost as though they were trying to derail me. I would not be derailed, however. They did cause a few digressions, but no true derailment.

*Our Facebook friends may already know about the terrible sickness and what it rained upon our household. Thank goodness for bleach cleaner. That's all I'll say.

Home again, home again, jiggity-jig

So much has happened that I haven't had a chance to report on. One of them is that I had my annual whole-nine-yards exam the day after Christmas. I guess Grandpa dying the same day sort of eclipsed news of my pink and healthy cervix.

I learned that day that I'm fatter than I've ever been. It's so exciting! I was wondering where I could possibly be putting this fat since my pants mostly still fit me.

In watching the videos from my month-long stint at The Comedy Studio, I've discovered where I put it. Formerly referred to as "my second stomach", I'm now referring to the stomach area above my pants as "my stomach thunder." Jesus H. Christ. I'm about thisclose to being the headless fat person on the news story about American obesity. If you see my torso lumbering down Main Street, Anytown, USA, please call me and tell me you still love me. I will need your support more than ever.

I'm just relieved that I haven't developed I'm-in-front thighs. That would be a real nightmare.

Exactly 10 years ago, I was in the first few months of the Weight Watchers program that ultimately resulted in my Almost-Nervous Breakdown of 1999 to 2000. I lost 80 pounds on Weight Watchers, which you likely know from my comedy. On the day after Christmas, I was exactly 100 pounds heavier than I was at my lightest (and out-of-my-goddamned-mindest) on Weight Watchers.

I have talked a considerable amount with my certified and licensed professional about my weight and eating issues. I'm really afraid of losing weight and going nuts again. I cannot begin to describe how awful being skinny and insane and hungry all the time was. I'm getting choked up just thinking about that awful time.

One thing my certified and licensed professional has reminded me is that I'm not the same person that I was then and that it would be different this time. Even the parts of me that want to believe it don't believe it, though.

I'm just trying to figure out what I'm going to do next. One thing is certain: I have to do something. I'm not interested in dropping dead from fatness or in losing my mind from not eating. There's got to be a middle ground that doesn't hurt me. I just have to find it.