You Think You're Dialed In? Someone Has To Win. And You Know What That Means? That Means Someone's Got To Lose. It's Probably You.

Last night I gave a shitty performance. I blame no one but myself. I fucked it up. Pure and simple. I can shake that off pretty easily. I might just have to put down Dog Phone, though. God help me, I love that bit so much, but no one else does. C'est la guerre. I actually got heckled, which was a first for me. I don't see it as a failure, though. I learned some important lessons about taking the performance seriously, and about not expecting too much from the audience. Especially when they've had a few good hours to get drinks in themselves. Like I said, it's pretty easy to shake off.

Tonight at the Loony Bin I gave a great performance. It just wasn't good enough, though. Now that's a shitty feeling. It's times like these that I wish I had never gotten good grades or done well on standardized tests. I'm used to exceeding expectations, and I'm so conditioned to judge myself based on the external validation that comes from other people judging me and deeming my actions awesome. That's what the laughter is all about, right? But let me tell you, comedy is not a standardized test. It isn't a research paper on international media systems. There are no guarantees that your hard work will pay off. It is totally subjective. At the same time, I don't want to downplay the achievements of the (at least) 8 people who were found funnier than me tonight. I got beat. It happens. I'm proud of all my friends that made it to the finals at the Loony Bin, and I'll be there on Sunday to cheer them on. But the overachieving Phi Beta Kappa super-nerd within me is having a nice little identity crisis. And one of the nice things about comedy is that until recently, that square-tied little fucker didn't even know what I was up to. Each time I went up I got laughs or I didn't, and that was it. But in the past couple of weeks it's become about competition. And yeah, I know my perspective would be different if I were one of the 8 finalists competing on Sunday. Well, I'm not sure, actually. I always look forward to performing, even at a sketchy south town strip club. But I was fucking dreading my 5 minutes at the Loony Bin tonight.

Oh well, it's over now. And by the way, I am not fishing for compliments here, nor do I want anyone to try and make me feel better about any of this. I am quite confident in my ability to make people laugh, and I do not want to feel better about losing. I want to cling onto my disappointment and frustration like the last blanket in the Siege of Leningrad.

After all, I've earned it.

Look Away. I Can't Take Your Reflection.

I'm doing a pretty good job of not destroying myself lately. I've got a clean apartment, a new coffee pot, some tailored suits and ten pages of work done on my thesis. It's funny, but these little things make it easier for me to like myself again. I'm even sleeping better. And I'm getting pretty good at being alone. I'm reminded that it's not altogether easy to be alone. If you don't watch out, you can go crazy from loneliness. Or you might find yourself doing anything, no matter how distasteful, self-destructive and unfulfilling it is, just to make the feeling go away if even for a moment. But it keeps coming back. Loneliness is a symptom, I think, and not a cause. Until you learn to be happy with yourself, solitude will always lead to loneliness and pain. And if you keep chasing that pain away at the expense of your self-esteem, well that's what they call a vicious circle. Of course it all looks easy when some smart "young" man in a tailored suit explains it so rationally, but things are different in the real world. It's not always so easy to make the choices that are best for us. It's not always easy to understand what our motivations really are. And sometimes we make mistakes. It happens. Life's not a sprint, it's a marathon. If you fall down, get up and do better next time.

I think sunlight and caffeine might help.