My Perfect Weekend

I had the perfect weekend. As a sometimes moody Gemini (yep, I’m one of those people who blames things on astrology :) I am often torn in multiple directions. I don’t really love making solid plans. I love to go where the spirit moves me. However, this weekend was the perfect combination of stimulants. As I reflected Sunday I thought to myself, this weekend was a great blueprint for how I’d like to live my life.

First, I should give you a little pertinent background. It’s perhaps a little heavy but we’ll get through it! I have just recently celebrated one year cancer free. One year. I kind of can’t believe it. My cancer was a real shock as it is for most people. It came out of nowhere, it required my full attention in every way, and quite frankly, it knocked me on my ass. To me, one of the most interesting things about cancer has been the aftermath. Yes, getting through it is its own special journey. There were so many scary moments and brave moments and supportive moments and in my case, so many funny moments. However, I haven’t heard a lot of people talk about what happens afterwards. I have felt a little lost. Not like myself. Shaken to my core. A friend and fellow cancer survivor summarized it very well. She said it kind of feels like you are alive for your own funeral. I have never felt so loved and felt so much gratitude. On the other hand, it’s taken me some time to get past that part where I thought I could die.

This has kind of set my gratitude scale into chaos. What does that mean? It means now I lose my shit when a character on Days of Our Lives talks about having cancer. I cry at concerts because I am so happy I am alive to see them. I also have less tolerance for ridiculousness. I’ve had to take some breaks from people and things that don’t seem worth the stress. And I’ve tried to be a little more zen about seeing where life takes me. And life has definitely been taking me in some interesting directions.

I’ve recently become even more involved in teaching standup comedy. Now to my fellow comics, I know this is often a point of contention. Most of us do not believe that you can teach someone to be funny, so many comics really poo poo standup classes. I get it. However, as in most of life, I have a completely different approach. I am convinced that what really makes people funny, are their idiosyncrasies and their individuality. And I believe encouraging those unique aspects and learning how to turn them up a notch is what really makes good comedy.

Also, when I was in college I had a dream that G-d told me the 11th and 12th commandments. I was too lazy to get up and write them down, so I only remember parts of the 11th. I do find it hilarious that G-d would choose to tell me, someone who sleeps like an absolute crazy person. I snore like a bear, talk in full sentences in my sleep and have been known to sit up and act out playing the violin for some inexplicable reason. The time I went for a sleep test, the entire staff was gathered around laughing when I woke up because apparently I had acted out playing chess in my sleep. Anywho, the 11th commandment has to do with using the gifts that G-d gave you to make the world a better place. I’ve felt since I was a kid in the 4th grade dancing across the stage in my Snoopy costume and throwing out dog food that laughter was my gift. And even more importantly, teaching people that it’s okay to laugh at themselves is a gift.

Now we are caught up. Whew. That was a lot. I’ve never been known for my brevity. Last Friday was the showcase for my most recent standup class. I teach a class one night a week, for four weeks, and at the end of the four weeks the class performs in a Friday night show. I have truly loved every single class that I’ve taught. AND I find that people are just naturally drawn to my class whenever it is right for them. SO many times my class has just perfectly fallen into place with different personalities and styles that organically mesh together.

This class was no exception. In fact as a lady comic, it was what many women would consider a dream. I had 6 students and only one was a straight white guy (shout out to Joey for surviving everyone else’s comedic utopia) My class was the most fantastic, supportive, dynamic mix of personalities, lifestyles, upbringings, journeys. I am just thrilled to know all of these students, but to be their teacher was very inspiring. I learned as much from them as I hope they learned from me. Above all else, I was SO proud of their final show. We had the most sold out show we’ve ever had on a Friday class show and every single student was glorious. Funny. Thoughtful. And in my opinion, embracing who they are. It was a delight for me and the audience. There’s something just so important about being authentic onstage. This class made me embrace teaching even more than I thought possible. It reminded me why I love comedy and I found myself getting choked up that I’m alive and that I get to make and inspire art. What a gift.

And then Saturday was St. Patrick’s Day. One of my favorite days of the year. I like St. Paddy’s Day so much, that my friend Amy jokingly calls it my birthday. Why do I love St. Paddy’s Day? Well, let’s get the obvious out of the way. I love whiskey. Whiskey is my girl. We’ve been friends for years. She’s my go-to. My wingwoman. She’s gotten me into a lot of trouble, but also a lot of fun.

And I also have a real fondness for the Irish People. Unfortunately for my poor husband, there’s a moment every year on March 17th when I blurt out, you know I lost my virginity to an Irish guy right? Yep. Every year.

But big picture, what I love about St. Paddy’s Day is the permission to be silly. I am silly all the time. Silliness is a big part of my life and I wish I could convince everyone to make it part of theirs. But thankfully, there’s St Patrick’s Day to do that for me. People wear the most ridiculous outfits. They embrace mismatching greens and dancing a jig and wearing green glitter and not giving a f***. And it just makes me so happy. It’s a celebration of joy. I promote the crap out of St Patrick’s Day to my friends. I go every year to the same place (Tam O’Shanter), and I encourage everyone to come, knowing that if they choose to show up they are going to have a magical night. There will be corned beef and cabbage and dancing and giggling and fiddle playing, but most importantly, there will be silliness.

While March 17 is my favorite day, March 18 is often brutal. That’s the downside of my old girl Jack Daniels. However, it gives me the opportunity to do one of my favorite things and this year it allowed me to perfectly round out my weekend. It’s perfect for Doing Nothing. There are few things I love more than doing nothing. I’ve talked about it in my act for years and I think some people get freaked out. But those are the exact people I need to preach to. Doing nothing is SO good for you. Trust me. It’s like re-setting your brain. I love to just veg on the couch and watch The Challenge on MTV and eat cheese. Then when I go back to life, I’ve had a moment for me. I’ve decompressed. I haven’t thought about the state of the world or my finances or my health or really anything. It’s fantastic. And it helps me to survive those Gemini moments when I overthink every little thing. Sunday my husband and I ordered in Indian food and I watched UnReal and Homeland and it was everything I needed. It was legit quality time with my love AND it was effortless. And yes. I know. Some of you decompress by hiking. I’ll never get that. I don’t understand walking somewhere and then walking back. Unless there’s Jack Daniels and sharp Cheddar Cheese at one end of the walk, I don’t get what I am walking to. But to each their own.

You should all give doing nothing a try this weekend. And maybe, for me, take a moment to appreciate what makes you so unique and embrace it. I’m still learning a lot about life but I’m convinced that loving your weirdness will make you a happier, more fantastic person.

xoxo

Lisa

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