CAROLYN CASTIGLIA

Me on Uinterview: Advice for Ashton and Demi

2011-11-16T12:50:00.004-05:00

Rumor had it that Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore were getting divorced after he cheated on her on the eve of their 6th wedding anniversary. Some say they're now trying to repair their marriage. I know how it is:

Mr. and Miss Matched

2011-11-09T11:36:00.005-05:00

My father was a man with many signature behaviors. He had an unmistakable laugh and gregarious nature that could penetrate even the hardest of hearts. He bore the brunt of his obsessive need to work, to do well at his work, to create work where there was none thanks to his unquenchable desire to groom and mold the physical world around him. But, perhaps most importantly, or at least most intimately, anyway - in the way that a daughter knows her father's intimate side - he had a habit of lallygagging around the house, on the few days he would allow himself to take a break from work, in the most ridiculous mismatched plaid pajama combos imaginable.

Even the couch cushions are plaid...

I'm not sure how it is that my dad acquired so many mismatched tops and bottoms, or why his loungewear collection consisted of nothing but plaid fleece, cotton stripes and bizarre prints (tractors, anyone?), all of which he liked to wear at the same time, if possible. But knowing my dad would be sitting at the head of the kitchen table reading the Sunday paper in one of these clown costumes on weekends when I came home to visit as an adult is one of the things I grew to rely on, to feel comforted by. It was a goofy tick of his that let me know that no matter how old I got, and even when I had my own child, I would always feel like a little girl around my dad.

Yes, the blanket is plaid. And I'm wearing my dad's bathrobe. It's plaid.

Adriana, trying to comprehend the perpetual, pervasive presence of plaid.

I lost my dad in 2008 to cancer, something I haven't really talked about excessively. I've mentioned it here and there, but not nearly to an extent representative of the gaping hole he left in my life. I'm not alone in feeling his absence, of course. My father was not only the head but also the heart of our family - and, given how much time he spent yelling, I suppose he was the lungs, too. I cry all the time when I think about my father, not just because I miss him, but because he was so great. Great, as in large, larger than life. In hindsight, I realize my father expended a lot of energy throughout his life compensating for his tiny stature with the size of his personality. He left such a giant mark on everyone he touched - even people who only met him once were changed by having interacted with him, and I'm really not exaggerating. If tiny women who pack a punch are referred to as firecrackers, my dad was a hand grenade, yelling hello at mailmen from across the street, waving and shouting friendly taunts at neighbors, tooting his horn at passersby. Every time a waitress walked up to him in a restaurant and asked, "What can I getcha?," he'd respond, "A million dollars and a day off to spend it." Inevitably, even if she was having a bad day, the server couldn't help but chuckle a bit, to feel relieved by my dad's easy presence.

And boy was he present, my dad, always living in the moment, always expressing exactly how he felt when he felt it. His capacity to feel empathy was enormous, which is probably why he took me in like I was his own child. Not only did my dad never make me feel like he was my step-dad (a term that wasn't even considered for use), he told me from day one that he was my Dad. With a capital D. I'll never forget that moment, right after my parents got married. My dad ran his carpentry business out of our house, and so the phone was always ringing, especially in the evening when people knew they might actually have a chance to talk to the elusive, charming, cantankerous Mike Castiglia, Builder. One night I answered a call - like I liked to do, since it made me feel important as a young child - and ran to the garage to tell my dad who was on the phone. I opened the door and called out, "Mike! It's for you!" My dad walked up the steps, slowly and deliberately, bent down to my eye level and said, "You can't call me Mike anymore, kid. You have to call me Dad now." Then he patted my head and I went back inside, transformed. I had a Dad, and I got to love him the way only little girls can love their fathers. I spent the rest of his life giving him unwanted kisses and hugs, never fully being able to say thank you for that.

My daughter is now about the same age I was when Mike became my dad, and though she hasn't seen her grandfather in almost four years, I hope she carries a vague memory of him with her. She must know his imprint on her DNA on some basic, spiritual level, because she certainly was channeling him through her sleepwear choices the other day, so much so that I had to take her picture. So here's to you, Dad, and your ridiculous pajamas. I miss you still and always will.

The Widow and The Divorcee, Episode 8: FINE and The Art of Brooklyn Film Festival

2011-08-05T16:37:00.005-04:00

Check out episodes 3, 5 and 8 of The Widow and the Divorcee at The Art of Brooklyn Film Festival this month! The festival runs from August 20-27 with a special preview and gallery show tonight at the St. Francis College Theatre starting at 6 pm. For the complete schedule and more details, visit The Art of Brooklyn site.

A brief glimpse inside the hate-filled mind of a con artist:

2011-08-04T16:00:00.007-04:00

My friend Kyria Lydia Abrahams, author of the very funny book, I'm Perfect, You're Doomed, just sent me a blog post she wrote titled, "Never have dinner with Susan Crain Bakos." Much to Susan Crain Bakos' dismay, I'm sure, I had never heard of Susan Crain Bakos, but a Google search tells me that she's the author of several books about sex, she's got a hard-on for black dudes (but it's not cuz she's ugly and white guys won't fuck her - which is not a racist assertion or anything) and that she hates to pay for lunch. Or dinner, so it seems.

Susan Crain Bakos is a con artist who has admitted to sticking several young women with the check after various meals meant to be networking meetings. (Bakos recently tried to make Kyria pay for a very expensive meal after a business meeting arranged at Bakos' request.) In a post on her Open Salon blog - which she has since tried to delete (as you can see in Google's cache) - Bakos writes, "I say I didn’t bring my wallet and hand [the check] over—usually to the woman who wants to “network” with me, i.e., she’s younger, full of herself, very ambitious in the sense of wanting to get somewhere fast and be somebody NOW but not in the old-fashioned sense of: Willing to work hard to get there." Bakos is a classic con, possibly a sociopath, who is filled with hatred toward the women she is taking advantage of, even as she admits that sometimes she needed money from these women when she found her "cash-flow constricted." (Here is a PDF of the post as it originally appeared. I will reference it throughout.)

Bakos' anger stems from the assumption that these women see her as a has-been, an "old achiever on way out," despite the fact that they "gush over her work" during dinner. I understand the tumultuous cycle of "self-loathing-turning-into-burning-hatred-for-anyone-who-loves-you-slash-all-humanity-on-a-base-level-catalyzing-more-self-loathing-which-in-turn-fuels-anger-against-every-asshole-out-there-who-thinks-they're-better-than-me" phenomenon very well, because I was in an intimate relationship with a man afflicted by it. The effect of a one-time con on a victim is very different than the effect of having a long-term relationship with a con artist, but either way, it's best to avoid these people altogether.

And that's what Kyria is suggesting young women do with Bakos - avoid her. "Beware, young up-and-coming female writers in New York! There is a raging 'Dine and Dasher' who is preying on women at some of the city's finest restaurants. She also happens to be a 60-year-old grandmother and a well-known sex columnist," Kyria writes. Bakos, like every other con artist, is hiding behind the public persona she has created. "But a well-known, accomplished and presumably financially solvent person has no reason to steal," we think. "Why would a grandmother take advantage of a young girl?," we are forced to ask ourselves. Simply for the thrill of it. That is all.

Bakos literally doesn't care about people, and views dealing with them - us - as a waste of time. We are pathetic, she is mighty. Bakos says of those who have accused her of victimizing them, "If I don’t care about people, I don’t care about what they think or write or say—even if I am the subject. Anonymous internet trolls and mean girls, snarky jealous people and the poor little marks who didn’t get all that free help they wanted? Time-wasters. Watching a syndicated episode of “Friends” is a better use of time than reading them." (One has to wonder who helped Bakos ascend from the bottom rung of the sex columnist ladder, but that's neither here nor there. Maybe she made it alone, masturbating the whole way.)

Bakos goes on in her post to examine her own sociopathic behavior, which proves to me that these people do have some level of self-awareness. She writes, "This check-dodging is relatively new behavior for me, a new category in a series of bad behaviors that is—at least I can say this much—declining in severity and intensity to the point where it is an errant stream, not a river sometimes overflowing its banks."

As Martha Stout revealed in The Sociopath Next Door, the lifestyle of a con artist is so taxing, eventually these people run out of steam. They just burn out. And this is where I have to say, in struggling for two years now with my own feelings about sociopathy and the people who are afflicted by it, despite everything I have been and continue to be subjected to as a result of the disease, I do have sympathy for these people. Not pity - pity is a sociopath's tool - but some level of compassion. I can only imagine how hard it is to live one's life in such a horribly burdensome way, to be filled with such sad rage and to feel a need to use whatever bit of power available to take others down. Frankly, that has to suck.

The worst part of sociopathy is that people are reticent to call it out and diagnose those who suffer from it, most especially mental health professionals. In fact, sociopathy isn't even listed in the DSM anymore, and is instead lumped in with Anti-Social Personality Disorder (euphemistic language, paging George Carlin!) along with psychopathy and a host of other afflictions. Some say the term sociopathy is being bandied about too much, that it is becoming part of the pop-psychology pantheon. That may be so, but as I see it, it's out of a need to recognize the many sociopaths and narcissists in our society, wreaking havoc in ways large and small.

In the Open Salon post about her recent cons, Bakos writes extensively about the different therapists she has seen and the various diagnoses and treatments she has received, pin-pointing just how important it is to research and diagnose these ASPDs and to get those that suffer from anti-social behavior - which is all of us in the end - the help they need. Bakos says:

For much of my life I have been struggling with psychological issues. Following a suicide attempt seven years ago that was very nearly successful, I began hearing a new diagnosis from a succession of therapists. Programs run out; new ones open up; everybody has their own diagnosis and treatment concept; nobody ever put me on drugs which should have been a clue to Borderline. When I was out of those options, I saw a semi-retired therapist who had a sliding fee scale fee. I paid her in lump sums when writing checks came in. Some therapists said Borderline Personality Disorder; others did not. My first therapist following the attempt labeled it “reactionary depression to a series of life setbacks.” My current therapist, an expert in the field of personality disorders, describes me as “on the borderline of Borderline,” not quite putting me in, not quite taking me out. (“BPD is an umbrella term, covering a range of symptoms and behaviors, manifested differently in each sufferer; and in the majority, the symptoms are treatable, the behaviors can be changed but it takes time which is why insurers go for the ‘untreatable’ label*.”) Her treatment plan includes dialectical talk therapy and Buddhist meditation. (Google the research, people. It works for many of us.) Brain scans prove that Buddhist monks have been able to change their brain patterns through meditation. And brain scans of Borderlines also show abnormalities in certain regions of the brain**.

*sociopathy is considered untreatable as well
**sociopaths and psychopaths show brain abnormalities, too

Miraculously, really, for those of us that have been involved with con artists, Bakos describes exactly what goes on in the mind of a con and details the aforementioned roller-coaster of self-loathing attached to conning someone.

Bakos on identifying a mark:

We are street hustlers, small players for petty cash or the equivalent. A hustler or a con artist works on the same basic knowledge of human nature: The greedy, the self-involved, the dreamer with a romantic vision of her future success that doesn’t include a trail of blood, sweat and tears—he and she can be conned and hustled. It takes but a tiny amount of leverage to use that greed or lust for fame against her.

Bakos on how it feels to pull a con:

Applying the leverage, pulling the hustle, feels good at the time—really a high—but awful afterward. I imagine binging/purging must feel like this in the mind and soul. Or shoplifting.

Bakos on the turmoil cons experience:

I am trying to understand and explain the behavior—and recognize the trigger points, usually major life events out of my control—to stop it because Jesus is not there for me (but Buddha is.) Looking back, I see that I risked months, years of stability and happiness on a big gamble (or, in this case, in little crimes) that let out some of the emotion, like blood-letting. The street hustle as pressure valve.

Bakos ends her post with an anecdote about a friend, a fellow con who "has done it for the same reasons I did: for the high and out of contempt for the mark." She adds, "There’s a lesson here for you too: If you go out looking for a free lunch, you will probably get a check, payable now in your case, or later with interest in mine."

That last part is revealing, to say the least. Bakos' cons have taken a toll on her, clearly. But what about those girls who didn't go out looking for a free lunch, like my friend Kyria? Kyria says that Bakos contacted her about meeting, not the other way around. Kyria writes, "You contacted me first and claimed that you had a business opportunity.... you lied and said that you needed me to take photos for an article you are writing for Playboy.... I told you I wasn't hungry (to be kind, I had eaten before the restaurant) but you INSISTED we order huge swathes of food, telling me multiple times 'It's on me.'"

It seems there is no way to rationalize that type of victimization, even through a lens of contempt for a ruthless up-and-comer unwilling to pay her dues. Bakos' con against Kyria doesn't fit that mold; Kyria wasn't trying to get anything from Bakos. In this instance, Bakos is just another sharky female looking for a free meal - exactly what she accuses others of being. Funny.

Since I'm not a psychologist, I can't diagnose Bakos or anyone else as a sociopath (and, thanks to the current DSM, neither can psychologists anymore, which is a problem), but I know the signs of a con artist - and so should you. Good luck out there, ladies. Don't forget your wallet.

Weiner's weiner!

2011-05-31T23:45:00.002-04:00

Originally posted on Babble:

In case you haven't heard, Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-NY) said this weekend that his Twitter account had been hacked Friday night. Whoever the prankster was that broke into his account, Weiner argued, sent a lewd photo to a 21-year-old college student in Seattle. (The photo isn't really that lewd if you ask me, since whoever took the photo was wearing underwear. The weiner in the pic - which is linked after the jump - is bigger than Jane Pratt's huge boobs, tho.)

The tweet and photo in question were deleted almost immediately, reportedly before the college student even saw them. The photo was allegedly sent in response to a tweet by the student, Gennette Cordova, which read, "I wonder what my boyfriend @RepWeiner is up to right now," the Washington Post reports. New York magazine adds, "Some right-wing bloggers are asserting that the photo might be evidence that Weiner is having an affair. Those bloggers note that, on Friday, Weiner tweeted about what time he'll appear on Rachel Maddow, saying, #That's5:45inSeattleIThink," implying that Weiner and the student may have been in close contact, a suggestion she vehemently denies.

Weiner got snippy with reporters today for questioning him about the so-called Weinergate, and he has hired a lawyer, a move which some see as an admission of guilt. It's hard to tell whether or not this incident was planned and executed by conservatives or was actually a misappropriation of fun on the part of Weiner. One thing's for sure, though: Anthony Weiner has a problem... flirting with high school and college girls.

Alexandra Petri of the Washington Post notes that "of the 200 people @RepWeiner follows on Twitter, a surprising number (well, more than zero, at any rate) do seem to be what might be termed nubile out-of-state houris." Conservative blogs are having a field day with the fact that "Weiner’s Twitter Friends Include Pages of Young Luscious Fans," posting photos of some of the women Weiner has followed on Twitter. (One of the girls is in high school.) The blog The Prudence Paine Papers has screenshots of tweets sent by a porn star indicating that Weiner had sent her a Direct Message. According to Paine, Weiner has also had contact with more than one high school girl on Twitter. She writes, "@Starchild111 was a high school girl who was trying to get Weiner to be her prom date. She was overjoyed when he followed her, upset when conservatives laughed that Weiner was trolling the school yard, and dismayed when he unfollowed her. Starchild has deleted her twitter account."

The bottom line is, as many bloggers have noted, it would be easy to see who posted the questionable photo - just look up the IP address of the computer it was sent from. If the photo really was sent by Weiner, clearly his career is over. Even if the photo wasn't sent by Weiner, all this scrutiny of his Twitter account is revealing an undesirable side of the Representative. We'll know soon enough how badly this has damaged his reputation. In the meantime, here's the photo for those of you who want to see it. Parents: let this be a two-fold lesson. First, remind your children to NEVER TAKE COMPROMISING PHOTOS OF THEMSELVES! Never, never, never! It always ends poorly. Second, be sure you're monitoring your children's online activity. You never know when one of them is going to fall in love with a member of Congress.

Please Pardon Our Dust

2011-05-05T13:58:00.001-04:00

I'm working on a new website, so in the meantime, why don't you try my YouTube channel?

XO,

The Management

The Widow and The Divorcee, Episodes 5, 6 and 7

2011-05-05T13:51:00.001-04:00

Say It

2011-03-07T23:28:00.003-05:00

I've listened to so many interviews and so much material done by the beautiful comedian Mike DeStefano, who died last night, and I have to say, I can't help but realize that though I sympathize with so much of what I'm hearing, so much of needing to share a part of myself, so much of being human, so much of what so many of these comics are saying... feeling like despite the fact that these men are speaking to my heart, I am on the outside of all of this praise and understanding because I'm female.

And that makes me really fucking sad.

Because I believe that the comedy that I have to share is rooted in the same pain that these men have felt. The depth of my experience as a human is the same as what Mike DeStefano/Greg Giraldo/Marc Maron have been through.

Here's a quote from Maron's WTF podcast with DeStefano that, perhaps ironically, speaks to exactly what I'm talking about:

Mike D: I wanna make people laugh, but I want people to know that they're not alone with suffering. That they can survive anything. I believe that I've been to the point where there is the worst part of life. At that moment when you're told you're gonna die.... I'm gonna die? Not only are you gonna die, you're gonna be shamed.... I know what it feels like to suffer. I love when a black dude or a gay comic says, "You don't know what it's like motherfucker." I do know what it's like. I know I'm not black, here's what my pain is, isn't it the same? Your pain is the same as mine. It's not like you can't relate to me because I'm talking about a certain type of disease. We all relate.

Maron: The menu of suffering is very small when it comes just down to the frequency of suffering. It's a frequency that runs all through human life because of our self-awareness.

And yet why do I feel excluded from this frequency, then? Why do I feel like, as these guys that so many comedians - myself included - look up to, aren't thinking of the suffering of women at all when they discuss their pain? Aren't thinking of women who do comedy at all when they think about the great communicators who "get this shit." Trust me, I get this shit, fellas. I get it.

I'm not trying to use Mike's death as a way to draw focus to any other issue, I'm just saying. We're here, too. And I think I speak on behalf of every fucking person with a vagina who tells jokes when I say: trust us, we fucking get it. We want to be part of this brotherhood, too.

Is It Retarded to Say Retarded?

2011-03-03T15:15:00.003-05:00

What's that? An article I wrote for the brilliant comedy blog Splitsider featured on their masthead? Oh, okay, cool. I thought so.

Click to read my piece, Should "Retarded" Be Retired from the Comedic Lexicon? It's even getting nice comments!

grovberg I really enjoyed this piece. Nicely written.

Why thank you, grovberg. I'll have to agree.

The Widow and The Divorcee, Episode 4: Rehab

2011-02-04T21:47:00.002-05:00

Charlie Sheen entered rehab for the umpteenth time this week after being hospitalized for stomach pains induced by a 36-hour bender/porno party. At that party, Sheen was photographed revealing a mouth full of busted up gold teeth, leaving everyone to assume Sheen's drug/drinking habits have destroyed his chompers. Everyone, that is, except my mother - the world's biggest Two and a Half Men fan - who was truly astonished at the announcement of Sheen's break from the show.

The Widow and The Divorcee - Episodes 2 and 3

2011-02-04T00:44:00.003-05:00

Greetings, friends! So far, my new daily video project, "The Widow and the Divorcee" is off to an amazing start. Each episode is under 3 minutes long, so check out episodes 2 and 3, below... plus my mom's reaction to my impression of her.

Also! I've joined the modern era and redesigned my YouTube channel. It looks pretty rad if I do say so myself. Go check it out, won't you! I've categorized all my work into 3 playlists: The Widow and The Divorcee, Hip-Hop Hooray (featuring all my music vidz, Key of Awesome stuff and live freestyle clips) and Carolyn Castiglia Stand-Up and Sketch. Feel free to watch away!

Remember: what a difference a day makes!

The Widow and The Divorcee - Episode 1: Caliphate

2011-02-01T22:53:00.004-05:00

Today, Glenn Beck told America that the rest of the world is on fire and that the Middle East will soon be one giant Islamic caliphate.

From Media Matters:

I believe that I can make a case in the end that there are three powers that you will see really emerge. One, a Muslim caliphate that controls the Mideast and parts of Europe. Two, China, that will control Asia, the southern half of Africa, part of the Middle East, Australia, maybe New Zealand, and God only knows what else. And Russia, which will control all of the old former Soviet Union bloc, plus maybe the Netherlands. I'm not really sure. But their strong arm is coming. That leaves us and South America. What happens to us?

Ha. I love that The Netherlands winds up as Russia's afterthought. If you haven't seen footage of his performance, go here to watch it. But before you do, watch the first episode of The Widow and The Divorcee, a new short video series starring me as myself and me as my mother, inspired by real conversations between the two of us, a widow and a divorcee.

Look for another episode tomorrow! Remember: what a difference a day makes.

Rape and Wikileaks: Strange Bedfellows

2010-12-20T14:26:00.009-05:00

I've been meaning to write a post about Julian Assange for a while, but #1 I haven't had the time, and #2, I wasn't sure I had enough information to speak about the whole situation without sounding like an idiot. I've come across a few articles and tweets and Twitter campaigns, even, in the last few days, though, that make me feel like it's finally time to join those that are writing/talking about what all has gone down in support of both the freedom of information and rape accusers. In other words, in support of the truth.

So here's the deal. When the news about Wikileaks first broke, I didn't understand the significance of the story. I mean, I understood that the story was significant, but I couldn't decipher - like most people, I think - whether or not what Wikileaks is doing by releasing government cables was harmful or helpful. I've come to understand that it's helpful, courtesy of Arianna Huffington's insightful post recapping the recent Symposium on WikiLeaks and Internet Freedom at which she spoke. In it she makes three key points:

1. "Too much of the coverage has been meta -- focusing on questions about whether the leaks were justified, while too little has dealt with the details of what has actually been revealed and what those revelations say about the wisdom of our ongoing effort in Afghanistan...."

2. "Nobody, including WikiLeaks, is promoting the idea that government should exist in total transparency, or that, for instance, all government meetings should be live-streamed and cameras placed around the White House like a DC-based spin-off of Big Brother...."

3. "A final aspect of the story is Julian Assange himself. Is he a visionary? Is he an anarchist? Is he a jerk? This is fun speculation, but why does it have an impact on the value of the WikiLeaks revelations?"

Taking into consideration points one and two (and reading the entire article) helped me see the value of Assange as a whistleblower. But to Huffington's third point, I have to say, "jerk" is putting it mildly.

Julian Assange has been accused of rape, something the title of Huffington's post tries to dismiss. "The Media Gets It Wrong on WikiLeaks: It's About Broken Trust, Not Broken Condoms" is her way of "disconflating" the identities of Assange as rapist and rogue. I understand the sentiment, but it's much better expressed by Twitter user FeministHulk:

AS SURVIVOR, HULK DISTURBED BY ASSANGE COVERAGE. HULK GLAD WIKILEAKS EXIST. HULK SMASH RAPE SHAME. AT SAME TIME. - via PopWatch

Granted, it was unclear based on initial media coverage of the incident what exactly Assange was being charged with in Sweden. On December 7, Jezebel published a great post about the generic "sex by surprise" concept, stating that if Assange had sex with a woman without using a condom when he was explicitly asked to use one, that qualifies as rape. (I agree.) That same day, The Guardian revealed that Assange had never been charged with "sex by surprise." His case was never about a broken or missing condom, but rather it was alleged, as Jezebel discussed on December 10, that he "held one woman down using his body weight to sexually assault her and that he raped another woman while she was sleeping."

Huffington wrote her post using the broken condom angle five days later, on December 15.

I expect better from the likes of Arianna Huffington, and feminist bloggers around the web are demanding respect for rape accusers from fellow media celebs Keith Olbermann and Michael Moore. Moore appeared on Olbermann's show on December 14, calling the rape charges against Assange "hooey" and reinforcing the erroneous idea that Assange faced the charge "that his condom broke during consensual sex." Again, it had been made clear a week prior that Assange was in fact being accused of rape, and as I just found out, apparently hasn't been officially charged with anything. The tag #mooreandme is being used on Twitter to urge Olbermann to correct Michael Moore's obfuscation of the truth. Sady Doyle, who started the online protest, has done an excellent job of pointing out that Moore is a professional truth-seeker, so his hypocrisy here is flabbergasting. Which is why I'm writing this post. Because I want to ask:

Why does the truth not matter when it comes to the victimization of women?

Why? Women suffer day in and day out at the hands of men who lie, cheat, manipulate and steal. I've seen it. I've experienced it. How is that okay? Why is it still acceptable? Asking these questions isn't about hating men - it's about loving women. I don't understand. I don't. All over Twitter you see statements like:

"Washing one's hands of the conflict between the powerful & powerless is to side w/the powerful, not to be neutral" - Paulo Friere

@KeithOlbermann You failed. By spreading lies and holding women up for public mockery, you contribute to the shaming of victims.

"DO NOT SMEAR PEOPLE WHO REPORT RAPE" is not "ZOMIGOD ASSANGE IS GUILTY!" Really not hard.

Here's the kicker: neither Michael Moore nor Keith Olbermann have come out to correct the misinformation that they both helped spread on December 14. Instead, Olbermann has continued to do harm to Assange's accusers by linking to an article that reveals their identities. Meanwhile, Moore proved this week that he does in fact read The Guardian, but only when it's convenient to him. He didn't read their article about the accusations against Assange, but he was emphatic that they correct a post about - guess what? - a cable published by Wikileaks that had to do with the popularity of his film Sicko in Cuba. (Moore's link to the original Guardian post brings up an error message, but the corrected post, which The Guardian took pains to Tweet at Moore, is here.)

So let me get this straight. What is important to Michael Moore is that people know his film was praised by the Cuban government and beloved by the Cuban people. What is not important to Michael Moore is the safety of two women who were possibly raped by a man who - I will come right out and say it - has the luxury of hiding behind his pseudo-righteousness as a "truth-seeker."

What is the truth here? These three men - Assange, Olbermann and Moore - these supposedly righteous men, speaking out against the abuses of the U.S. government, leaking cables, making documentaries about our shitty healthcare system, speaking truth to power. Let me give you a taste of your own medicine:

None of you give a fuck about women. Fuck all three of you. Fuck you.

That's real truth to power.

Live-Blogging the Great Present-Wrapping Marathon of 2010

2010-12-18T23:16:00.011-05:00

Wrapping some presents for early Christmas. Adriana is going to her Dad's for the day itself, so we're having a family celebration tomorrow. I've decided to give her some presents from me to open, then have Santa come Christmas Eve morning before we drop her off. That way, I can tell her ours is the first house he stopped at on his trip around the world. (Yes, we're that important. Or, rather, I want my kid to feel that special.)

Looking at the things I bought, I felt really compelled to write them down. There's something particular about the presents you get a kid each year of their life, and I feel like this year's crop really captures the essence of what being 5 is all about.

The first box I wrapped contains:

Snoopy t-shirt

Paul Frank 7 pack Days of the Week undies

Hello Kitty hair clips

Aces. I'm really good at buying gifts, probably because I really enjoy it. I'd so much rather watch Adriana open a present than get one myself.

I wrapped some ZhuZhu Pets for my mom, when suddenly Adriana had a night terror. I went into her room and stood over her bed, praying like I always do when that happens. "Dear God, make it stop. Let my daughter know she is loved. Let her stop crying, Lord." Thankfully, it was pretty short and not too intense. The last time she had one, a few months ago, I think, she called out for me and I was standing right next to her. "Mommy! Mommy!" It's much worse on the parent than the child, so I'm told. I sure hope so. There's nothing more heartbreaking than not being able to reassure a child who is literally reaching out for you in a blind stupor of sleep. Well, maybe one thing is worse: having to swallow the bitter pill that if you talk to them or touch them while they're in the midst of terror-ing, you'll only make it worse. Every parent learns that the hard way. If you've stumbled across this post while Googling "night terrors," don't worry. They are very common in pre-schoolers and wane over time. My professional advice? Take some deep breaths and have a drink. It won't make you feel better about the night terror, but it will at least change the subject.

Back to presents:

Folding Llama Llama Holiday Drama and a Curious George matching game up together. I'm so glad Adriana still likes George. As we watched Curious George: A Very Monkey Christmas last night, I felt so at peace being able to still enjoy a remnant of her babyhood. Parenting is such a paradox: we urge our children to grow up and be independent, then we don't understand why they put on adult airs at 10. I want my daughter to learn and grow, but I want her to keep her innocence as long as possible, and to shed it only gradually and when absolutely necessary. When she's 21.

Boxed up some amazing Nick and Nora designer PJs from Target. Flannel, rad owl design in purple/green/orange/gold 70s tones and an unbelievable army green pirate map/ship themed pair. So proud of the non-traditional gifts I picked this year. Just a few, but they make a statement, I think. She's got tons of pink and purple and I'll never stop buying her that stuff, but my kid loves pirates, and I can't wait to watch her go ape shit over these pajamas that are probably meant for boys but oh well.

Just got a nice email from a friend. How sweet. Glass is almost empty as I listen to Sarah McLachlan sing about exactly that. About to wrap some clothes: a purple and grey checked tunic, purple cable-knit hooded zipped cardigan and.... drum-roll please... a grey and hot pink fur-lined shrug. What?! I'm a cool mom, I get it. I may have lost all my own cool, trading it in for cool mom, but I don't think so, actually. I've gotten soooooo much better with age, and certainly with, um, experience (to put it kindly). What I mean is, I like being a single mother. It forces me to be the best version of myself, which is like a low-rent version of people who really know what they're doing.

Which brings me to a point I've been thinking of making here on this public diary to myself: my life is exactly where I want it to be for the first time ever. So enjoy that, me!

Shrug is too thick and needs its own box. Don't know what I'm gonna do cuz I don't have a box! Will wrap purple goods and think on it. Must have another egg nog...

Okay, it's not really egg nog. It's a vanilla Bailey's martini. Except it's not made with Bailey's, it's made with Brady's. Why? Because my family is bootleg, son, and this booze is leftover from Thanksgiving. I've never been the type to keep actual liquor in the house, but I have to say, this holiday treat is hittin' the spot, and has made present-wrapping a lot easier. When I sat down (19 hours ago) to wrap all of these gifts, I felt a little ornery. My iTunes wasn't working (because I've never used it before because I'm a neanderthal who drinks Brady's) and then Sarah McLachlan's calm voice just felt like it was taunting me. "Ooooh, look at me, I'm so relaxed. You have all these presents to wrap with shitty dollar store wrapping paper while I get to just sit here and barf all over the keys..."

Anyway - what about this shrug?! I think I'm gonna look downstairs for a box. Hang on...

HO-OOOOOH! GUESS WHO JUST FOUND A MUTHA FLUFFIN' BOX??????????? And it doesn't even need to be wrapped because it's the kind with a weird fake watercolor painting of Santa on it. What?!

OMG the ice in my drink just snapped in celebration and scared the shit out of me. Okay. Shrug in box. Moving on.

Sarah's singing What Child is This and River, two songs I sang to Adriana tonight at bedtime. Typically she sings with me and then says goodnight, still awake when I leave her room, but for the past two nights she's fallen asleep to the sound of my voice, which is such an honor as a mother. Feeling like you have the power to sing your kid to sleep is pretty amazing, as if it hearkens her back to hearing my voice in the womb or something.

I am such a sentimental idiot. I can't tell you how often I think, "That - among several other excellent reasons - is exactly why someone should be falling head over heels in love with me right now." And yet, and yet... I honestly don't know if I have any interest in love. My relationship with my daughter is the best one I've had so far on this Earth. I'm not so sure I should be looking to supplant it. Not that a boyfriend would do that, you know, I'm just sayin'. Maybe we can only experience one great love at a time. I mean, after all, most people aren't into polyamory for a reason. It's jealousy-inducing, and a man isn't gonna put up with being jealous of my kid, and I would never subject my kid to being jealous of a man in my life. My friend John (who sent me the aforementioned email) wrote a nice blog post about that on Strollerderby recently, about his step-daughter giving him permission to marry her mom. Aww.

Okay - bagged some boots, along with a hat and gloves, stockings, sort of a random bag for Adriana. And now it's stocking stuffing time! Adriana has shown a particular interest in stockings this year, so I decided to get some small things and fill the old stockings my Dad used to hang for us when we were kids. I just remembered that throughout my childhood some of the best presents I ever got were in my stocking - which is the perfect size for a jewelry box. I didn't get Adriana any jewelry this year - she has plenty, and all of it is probably toxic, anyway. Instead, my mother got her some lotion and lip gloss (formerly known as mip mop) and I bought her some gumballs for her gumball machine, some matchbox cars, a Christmas rubber duckie and a teeny bit of candy. The best part is, now my niece is getting a stocking, too!

Making ornaments now. Or, rather, adding photos to the ornaments Adriana and I already made.

Today we finished our Christmas crafting by decorating a Santa that allowed me to teach her an alternate meaning of the word fierce:

Do you see those gems? The glitter? Fierce! Hey Santa - feel free to ask and tell - you've earned it!

Okay, the stockings have been hung by the chimney with care - literally, and almost every gift is wrapped, except the one for my niece. The ornaments are made. Let me wrap this last present and set it in place!

After all that, it sort of looks like nothing in this photo. A few boxes underneath a Charlie Brown tree. But what they represent are joy, hope, self-reliance, love, resilience and a sacred bond that is irreplaceable, between mother and daughter, siblings, aunts and nieces, Grandmother and Granddaughter, cousins, family. You can't really package that.

Merry Christmas to you and yours from me and mines.

XO,
ckc

How the Gawker Christine O'Donnell Expose Hits Below the Belt

2010-10-29T21:32:00.001-04:00

In case you haven't heard, Gawker posted an anonymous account yesterday of a one-night-stand Senate candidate Christine O'Donnell had with a then 25-year-old Philadelphia boy. I say boy, because no self-respecting man would disgrace himself by sharing the (apparently) hairy details of one Ms. O'Donnell's baby-making region with the world, no matter his political convictions.

In his account, this ~~spineless~~ anonymous "journalist" describes O'Donnell as a "cougar" and "aggressive." He claims he "won't get into the nitty gritty details of what happened between the sheets that evening," and then - unbelievably, in less than two very short paragraphs - describes O'Donnell's unwaxed lady-parts as "a big turnoff."

And for what? Because he hopes she won't get elected on Tuesday? Sure, she doesn't know anything about the constitution. Do I agree with her political beliefs? Not at all. But I sure do believe in a woman's right to choose... to sleep with another consenting adult and expect the intimate details of that encounter to remain private.

This letter, published by Gawker, is conspiratorial, institutionalized bullying and should not be condoned by anyone, anywhere on the political spectrum. If we liberals expect that social and religious conservatives will stop perpetuating the kind of homophobia that is killing gay kids, we need to act in kind and not publicly mock a female political candidate for what she chooses to do behind closed doors. This is exactly the kind of insane violation of privacy that drove Tyler Clementi to kill himself, and don't kid yourself if you think it's not. I have no doubt O'Donnell will take this ego bruise in stride; one thing I'll say for Republicans - they're not cry-babies like most Dems.

According to a response to the post from the O'Donnell camp, "The National Organization for Women (NOW) on Thursday condemned the tabloid website Gawker for publishing an anonymous account: NOW issued a statement late Thursday stating that 'sexist, misogynist attacks against women have no place in the electoral process, regardless of a particular candidate's political ideology'." Exactly. What more is there to say?

This: the web was up in arms when Duke University student Karen Owen violated the privacy of several young men that she slept with during her tenure there by revealing what was going on in their underpants. I certainly hope that the "liberal media" and pinko blogosphere will show the same courtesy to Ms. O'Donnell, even if she is a hypocrite. I think it's time we all agree to play above the belt.

Who's That Chick Singing the Hook? Or, Why Are Women Still Second Class Citizens in Comedy?

2010-10-15T14:38:00.005-04:00

"I don't know what they want from me, it's like the less money we come across, the more problems we see."

That's a lyric I sing at the end of "Less Money Mo Problems," one of the many great tracks off the new TMC compilation album, "Get Rich or Move Back in With My Dad," recently reviewed by The Onion's A.V. Club.

The lyric mentioned above is clearly a spoof of the lyric, "I don't know what they want from me, it's like the more money we come across, the more problems we see," originally sung by Kelly Price in Notorious B.I.G.'s posthumously released hit, "Mo Money Mo Problems."

Chances are, even if you're not a fan of hip-hop, you've at least heard the name Notorious B.I.G. (right Mom?). But who, on the other hand, is Kelly Price? As it happens, Kelly Price has been nominated for three Grammy awards and one American Music Award, and yet I'd never heard her name until I looked her up. Understandably so, since Mo Money Mo Problems was by far the most popular recording she's been a part of - it stayed at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart for two weeks in '97 - but no where is Kelly Price mentioned in the track's byline. The official song title on the cover of the single reads, "Notorious B.I.G., Mo Money Mo Problems, Featuring Puff Daddy and Mase."

Today, I feel like Kelly Price - and not just because I stand-in for her on TMC's parody track. But because in the A.V. Club's review of the album, not only are the women who rap on the album not mentioned by name (and there are only two of us), I'm not even mentioned by name when a lyric that I wrote and performed is quoted and vaulted as a "clever... pertinent bit." Take a look:

Good hip-hop tracks need collaborators, and Get Rich Or Move Back In With My Dad features appearances by Snakes, Hannibal Buress, Joe DeRosa, Rob Cantrell, and Aisha Tyler, among many others. McCaffrey enlists them to help tackle worn comedy topics, creating songs about hack stand-up material, working as a headliner, and a lack of cash. McCaffrey is clever and well-versed in comedy, packing a track about joke-stealing with names and pertinent bits. (“I robbed Jim Gaffigan of his last Hot Pocket”; “Ripped the tattoos off Janeane Garofalo.”) He’s also managed to mock rap from the inside—Get Rich is rife with inflated grandeur and jokes about how sampling “Wonderwall” automatically makes a song a hit.

The "track about joke-stealing" is called "How to Rob Comics" - and my lyric is "ripped the tattoos off Janeane Garofalo." "How to Rob" is the first rap song McCaffrey ever recorded - and one that features just he and I. The song idea was Tom's, but we each wrote our own verses, Tom wrote the lyrics to the chorus that I sang in the original video, which you can see here, thanks to Andy Stuckey. (The original track was produced by Soce the Elemental Wizard.) I wrote and sang the lyrics to the chorus on the re-vamped track released on the disc (recorded by Andy Barlow).

Before I continue, let me first say that Tom deserves mad props for this album, given that he co-wrote and recorded 12 songs in less than 2 years, filming videos for many of them and originating lots of the song concepts. I'm extraordinarily proud of Tom as a friend, collaborator and fellow performer because not only has he shown immense dedication, creativity and tenacity in this process, he risked both mockery and his pocketbook to bring this album to life. I'm elated to be a part of what he lovingly refers to as his "mid-life crisis."

That said, I appear on six of the 12 tracks, two of which are heralded in this review, so I don't think it's at all unreasonable to hope (and frankly, expect) that my name be mentioned by the reviewer, especially when quoting my lyric. I don't think Steve Heisler's oversight in excluding me (or Mara Herron - who is pictured - or the other guys on the album, for that matter) was intentional or malicious. We've all been listed as the "and more!" on a comedy show bill from time to time. That's not the worst thing in the world. But not attaching my name to my lyric is like not crediting a joke or a photo, and that's just bad form. Accidental bad form, no doubt. But it reinforces the fact that funny women - even when we're right in front of you - remain largely invisible.

Which brings me to the broader problem of "women in comedy," a subject I both love and loathe to get into, for fairly obvious reasons. 1.) I'm a woman and I do comedy, so I enjoy talking about our place in comedy as a sex, both in the ways which we stand out as a group, the ways in which we're individuals with varying styles and aims and the ways in which the pursuit of this branch of the entertainment industry is more difficult for us to climb. 2.) For all the reasons I just mentioned, I hate talking about "women in comedy" because it's like talking about women/blacks/gays/etc. in anything - it can be precarious to lump an oppressed group of people together and keep everyone in that little boat of oppression happily afloat. Also, you shouldn't do it cuz boys might think you're annoying, right? (Tee-hee, hair twist, pathetic puppy look, tits out, rim shot.)

Much has been said and written about the inequities faced by women pursuing comedy careers, and I don't want to re-hash all of that here and now. What I do want to say is this:

Those of you who've seen me perform comedy regularly over the last nearly eight years know that what I do is more than stand-up. Which is not meant to imply that what I do is "greater" or "better" than stand-up, but literally that my entertainment package encompasses more than joke-telling. I love stand-up; I love doing it, I love watching it, I love continually trying to master the art form. All joke-tellers are junkies in that sense. But I also love telling stories, doing characters and being musical, which in my case, most of the time, means performing funny hip-hop, either on the tracks I've done with Tom and others or via a freestyle. It's what I'm known for - something that sets me apart. And if I can't get credited for doing precisely what is unique to me, despite having appeared on both ego trip hip-hop shows on VH1 and on Comedy Central specifically as my hip-hop persona Miss CKC, then how am I ever going to get a Live at Gotham or (eventually) a Presents?

I ran into the great Kristen Schaal not too long ago and I was telling her how I was psyched that two funny music videos I'm in had been played on Comedy Central's Atom TV, saying, "I feel like I got in through the back door." She replied, "That's the only way to get in."

If you haven't read New York Magazine's interview with Kristen, you should. In it, she talks about being a woman on The Daily Show, saying, "I talk about women’s issues. It’s a really difficult topic because women’s issues is not in the news very often. It’s sort of a male-dominated world, to put it delicately.... It’s a hard job, but it’s work I’m really proud of and I hope I get to continue doing it."

NYM's Mina Hochberg goes on to ask, "What do you feel is the most constructive way to address the disparity between the number of men and women in comedy?" Kristen's thoughtful response? "To keep talking about it, definitely. I think more support for the women that are in comedy would be good. Giving props to people that are doing it right now, getting behind what they’re doing. Keep bringing it up in different places and definitely do that fight, but don’t tear each other down while you’re doing it because then you’ve got nothing left."

I'm certainly not here to tear other women (or men, for that matter) down, but rather to build up myself and other women who seem to be overlooked. These are women I have known and worked with for about 5 years - longer in some cases, shorter in a few - and who are out night after night, week after week doing amazing work in comedy rooms and in the following online videos. Please enjoy them as much as I do.

First things first! I'm not the only woman who was unfortunately not named despite appearing in The Onion's monthly comedy column, Laugh Track. Though Steve Heisler was right on the money to shout-out my bros, Snakes, he made a boo-boo by neglecting to holler at our girl Chloe Wepper - who not only sings her face off on their track, "Top Dolla (My Dad's a Proctologist)," but is truly hilarious while doing it.

Other female New York comedians who might tickle your fancy? Let's start with Ann Carr, whose recent turn as Louis C.K.'s babysitter on his eponymous show, "Louie," was brilliant. Here she is in the third episode of her web-series, "The Actress," co-written by Warren Holstein and co-starring Christina Gausas (The Office) and Tom Shillue (Comedy Central Presents).

Next up, Livia Scott! Livia has been making web videos for the last year on absolutely no budget, but using tons of imagination. They're all remarkable, but this one is probably my absolute favorite. It's NSFW, but I guarantee it'll make you bust a gut.

How about a little Giulia Rozzi? Giulia's "Message Board" video series is always great, but this episode about the depression some brides feel after their wedding has passed is not only super funny, but also a scathing criticism of America's obsession with "holy" matrimony.

Shayna Ferm is one of my favorite comedic musicians and is certainly "under-the-radar," to quote The Onion. Not only does she have a voice to die for and impeccable timing, but she's an extraordinarily gifted writer. She co-wrote (with Katherine Bryant Flaherty - another amazing talent) and co-stars in "Grease 3: Threase," currently running at The PIT. Here's a song she and I performed together at Moonwork last Spring, called "Marriage is for Fags."

Did I mention that Shayna is also like 8 months pregnant - and was pregnant when we filmed this vid? And that I have a 5-year-old? Yeah.

But enough about me! On to Jessica Delfino, the Queen of Dirty Folk Rock and other genres. This animation by Nick Fox-Gieg to her song "I Wanna Be Famous" has over one million views on YouTube - and the lyrics speak for themselves.

And now, Mindy Raf, who you may know as Leibya Rogers. Mindy has made a slew of rad vidz as herself and as her uber-feminist alter ego, but I think it most fitting to post her O.G. Ani Difranco tribute, "Leibya Spells Freedom," performed live at last year's ECNY Awards. (After all, she's a full time changer of souls - you're welcome.)

Eliza Skinner, member of musical improv group Baby Wants Candy and host of comedic freestyle battle The BEATdown with my pal Shockwave at UCB, blows the roof off the joint with her Tyler Perry audition tape. Take a look:

Finally - because this list could go on for days but this is the Internet and I probably lost you already - we've come to Desiree Burch. Desiree is the brilliant mind behind the show 52 Man Pickup, in which she plays a clever card game with the audience as she reveals the salacious details of all of her sexual encounters. She's also a New York Neo-Futurist; you can see her every weekend in their show Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind at The Kraine Theatre. Here she is as Jill, roommate to Michael Cyril Creighton of Jack In a Box fame. (Jack in a Box just won Best Web Series at the New York Television Festival.)

I could go on, but I won't. I'll let the talent displayed in these videos speak for me. Here's to all of us walking in through the front door, ladies.

UPDATE: I just talked to Steve, who not only updated The Onion review, but provided an interesting perspective on how and why things get reviewed. He told me he agrees wholeheartedly that women are often overlooked, that it was (as I assumed) accidental and that he has complained in the past about a lack of parity in coverage of male and female comics. We talked about the problem of even having to make the distinction that, yes, women are funny, and we concurred that women haven't reached equal footing just because Tina Fey has her own show.

If you have a project you'd like Steve to be aware of, email him at steveheisler@gmail.com.

Now I have to run. Steve and I are booked on a plane leaving in an hour for the middle east. We'll call you tomorrow when Hamas signs our peace treaty.

New Album, Plus Shows This Week

2010-10-05T12:41:00.002-04:00

In case you haven't heard, I've officially added the title "recording artist" to my resume. The TMC compilation album, "Get Rich or Move Back in with My Dad" features a bunch of amazing New York comics including Ted Alexandro, Hannibal Buress, Rob Cantrell and more, rapping and singing and generally being pretty awesome.

Click the image below to buy the album on iTunes. I'm on 6 tracks, including How to Rob Comics and the Trizzle Threat hits Summer Jam, DAMN (You Wish) and How to Make a Hip-Hop Hit with Tom McCaffrey and Mara Herron.

Also, two of my videos, Less Money More Problems with Tom McCaffrey and Take You Home with Jen Kwok have recently aired on Comedy Central's Atom TV. You can check out the full episodes here if you like. I'm in episodes 305 and 307, hosted by Jay Larson and Natasha Leggero, respectively.

I've got some amazing shows this week and you know I'd love to see you!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010 at 8 pm
Sacapuntas at Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery (between 1st and 2nd)
$8 at the door, $5 with code "supermango" here.

Featuring:

Carolyn Castiglia
Christian Finnegan
Mike Lawrence
Joe Mande
...and a secret guest! Even I don't know who it is!

Hosted by Dan Allen and Ray Devito

Thursday, October 7, 2010 at 9:30 pm
Colin Kane: Unzipped at Comix
353 W. 14th Street
$20, 2 drink minimum

I'll be hosting this show and doing lots of time, so let me know if you can make it - use PROMO CODE CKVIP TO BUY TICKETS ONLINE here for $15. Or you can give my name at the door. This is a traditional host, feature, headliner show format starring me, Justin McClure and Colin Kane in a big, fancy club in New York City. It's a big deal kinda thing, so come if you can!

Friday, October 8, 2010 at 7:30
Doors at 7 - come early for snack and a seat!
SPLURGE! at Happy Ending
302 Broome (Forsyth/Eldridge)
FREE!

Featuring:

Katina Corrao (ECNY Nominee for Best Female Stand-Up)
Pat Dixon (Comedy Central Presents)
Billy Eichner (UCB, Forest Hills State of Mind)
Jared Logan (Live at Gotham)
Veronica Mosey (Headlined Caroline's on Broadway)

Musical Guest: Chaz Kangas & DJ Milkmoney

SPLURGE! at Happy Ending is a monthly comedy event featuring stand-up and musical comedy from New York's most exciting talent. Every month will bring the premiere of a new short comedic film, and each show will close with host Carolyn Castiglia's hilarious signature freestyle rap.

Two big shows Friday, 9/10!

2010-09-08T12:52:00.001-04:00

Friday, September 10 at 7:30, doors at 7
Come early for snacks and a seat!
Splurge! at Happy Ending
302 Broome Street (Forsyth/Eldridge)
Free!

Featuring:

Kurt Braunohler (Comedy Central Presents Kristen Schaal)

Photo by Anya Garrett

Wyatt Cenac (The Daily Show)

Photo by 92Y Tribeca

Ryan Hamilton (Last Comic Standing)

Erin Judge (Live at Gotham)

Julian McCullough (Comedy Central Presents)

Musical Guest: Ben Lerman (Keith and the Girl)

Photo by Amiessence Fine Arts

Hosted by: Carolyn Castiglia (Comedy Central's The Atom Show)

Photo by Anya Garrett

FOLLOWED BY:

Joke Life: A hip-hop comedy show
Friday, September 10th at midnight
UCB - 307 W. 26th Street
$5

Featuring:

CKC, TMC and Beena Steena, aka Trizzle Threat, aka Carolyn Castiglia (VH1), Tom McCaffrey (Premium Blend, TruTV), Mara Herron (Fly, Girl)
Rob Cantrell (Last Comic Standing, Marijuanalogues)
Dan Curry (Last Comic Standing)
Joe Derosa (Comedy Central Presents)
Hardcore Boris, aka Boris Khaykin (Chris Gethard Show)
Jen Kwok (NBC Stand-Up for Diversity, viral hit Date an Asian)
Soce the Elemental Wizard (Logo, Sirius Shade 45 gay hip hop competition winner)

Brought to you by Tom McCaffrey, whose comedic hip-hop CD "Get Rich Or Move Back in With My Dad" will be released this month. CD release party at Pianos, 158 Ludlow, September 26, 8 pm. $7. Featuring most everyone above plus Ted Alexandro (Comedy Central Presents) and more......

Teh Internets Be So Crazy, Y'allz

2010-07-23T12:42:00.005-04:00

Guys, remember the time a bunch of supremacist a-holes left me nearly 200 notes calling me everything from a misfit toy to a race traitor to a buck-toothed whore? Something similar recently happened to 11-year-old vlogger Jessi Slaughter, only on a much grander scale.

Slaughter talked about being cyberstalked by anonymous Internet users on Good Morning America yesterday, declaring that despite receiving death threats, she has no plans to stop engaging with the technology that recently brought her to tears.

If you're one to make light of situations like these, understanding this particular incident to be the case of a young girl who was made fun of by a few mean-spirited kids on YouTube, think again. The type of torment being propagated here goes well beyond poorly spelled comments reading "ur videoz suck."

Gawker's Adrian Chen has been covering Slaughter's drama since it began unfolding last week. He himself became the subject of a smear campaign after criticizing those who attacked her.

While there is reason for concern over the treatment Chen received, the protagonist in this story remains to be Slaughter. Some might call her an antagonist as well, given that her profane taunting of her "haters" is what got her into this mess. What is most worrisome is that Slaughter, the daughter of working-class parents who are clearly not tech-savvy (as of Monday Slaughter's mother had still not seen any of her daughter's videos), is dependent upon the relationship she has built with people she does not know online.

She says of her ordeal, "I just want it to kind of like turn positive," referring to all of the attention she's gotten, adding, "I kind of do like the attention but I don't like so much negative attention."

Poor, poor girl.

Slaughter told GMA, "I don't really get along with people from school that much. They don't like me because they see me and they think I'm weird." And there's the sad irony of it all. A young girl looking for refuge from the awkward glances she gets at school is singled-out in a much more disastrous way on the web.

GMA reports that "a detective will come by Slaughter's house next week to sit with her and explain how to use the Internet safely and responsibly." Marion County detectives are "investigating the entire situation to look for evidence of cyberbulling and cyber-stalking." Slaughter was sent to a mental health facility on a suicide watch, but insisted "she wouldn't kill herself," yet she "could understand how someone could be pushed over the edge."

"I think that's completely wrong that people would taunt people to some degree that they would actually kill themselves over it," she said. "And that's actually completely wrong and whoever is doing it should be locked away for a really long time." Slate’s Emily Bazelon recently suggested that the suicide of Phoebe Prince was not the fault of those that relentlessly teased her, but rather her troubled mental state.

I have only two words for you, Emily: Come. On.

Are we going to continue to let bullies off the hook for preying on the weak? I mean, God damn it for realz. What is wrong with people? I applaud Chen for being brave enough to report on this issue. If there's a child in your life and you're worried about their online safety, visit stopcyberbullying.org. And if you are a parent who hasn't yet educated themselves on Internet culture and has no idea what your kidz are doing on the web, figure that shit out now. Finally, everyone: hug someone today. Seriously. If you need a hug, go get one. Hugs, not Internet thugs, guys. Teddy bears and double rainbows for everyone - on the house.

An Open Letter to Abby Cadabby

2010-07-20T10:22:00.009-04:00

Dear Abby,

It's taken me a while to write to you, because I don't want to be a hater. I've tried to reserve judgment on you, even though I can't stand your "Flying Fairy School" segment on Sesame Street. I love Sesame Street, and I just don't think you belong there, Abby. I'm not the only one.

I don't know who you think you are, but I resent you teaching my daughter that she can "solve a problem with a single Twinkle Think." You cannot solve problems with Twinkle Thinks. Twinkle Thinks are not real. And don't even begin to tell me Muppets aren't real, Abby. You're gonna have to suspend your disbelief here for a second if we're gonna have this conversation.

If you're so proud of being able to solve problems in a single Twinkle Think, you annoying pink blunder, then why haven't you solved world hunger yet? Why are you so selfish, Abby Cadabby? Sure, you may have turned Blogg (Really? Your friend is named Blogg? Don't you think he has an Internet addiction? Why not solve that with a single Twinkle Think?)... anyway... you may have turned Blogg back into a whatever-he-is, but you haven't cured AIDS, now have you? Where were you when my Dad died of cancer, Abby? Huh? Maybe you should stop acting so god-damned high and mighty, with your little pink wings and your little glittery wand and your TWINKLE THINKS and DO something with your power! Stop being so oblivious to the world around you. I know you're only a baby fairy, but seriously - if you want to live long enough to grow up, you might want to (twinkle) think about global warming. Maybe fix the BP spill. Find me a boyfriend. Something!

Otherwise, I'm gonna have to change the channel during your segment, Abby. At this point, I'd rather listen to Dora's squeaky wail than your childish smoker's voice. Ya might wanna cut it down to a pack-a-day, kid. Or get yourself checked for nodes or something. You sound like a fairy who's been around the block, if you know what I mean. Were you gone again with Gonnigan? You know he has other girls, right? Oh sure - they love that whole moody, depressive thing he's got goin' for him. That he just suddenly disappears, then reappears. Chicks go nuts for that shit. (Literally - I heard he's dating one of the chickens who did backup dancing for Feist the day she was on the show.)

Chew on that, Abby. And hey - good luck.

Love,
Carolyn

The Woman I'm Afraid of Turning Into

2010-07-19T12:41:00.002-04:00

The Woman I'm Afraid of Turning Into
Originally uploaded by Anya Garrett

My portrait, as a part of Anya Garrett's brilliant gallery debut. See this and more gorgeous, hilarious, tragic photos of 12 young female comedians at HERE Arts Center, 145 Ave. of the Americas, NYC. Now through Sept. 17. http://www.here.org/shows/detail/352/

Cornell Doctor Practices FGM, Tests Sensation Level of Young Girls

2010-06-30T10:43:00.002-04:00

It's hard to find words to describe the upset and helpless feelings I have after reading Hannah Rosin's recent piece for Slate about Dr. Dix Poppas, the Cornell University pediatric urologist who has feminist and homo bloggers in an uproar over his questionable methods of genital reconstructive surgery and the subsequent testing methods he uses to check the stimulation level of the private parts of girls as young as 6 years old.

Rosin asserts, "The patients in question are girls with a condition known as CAH, or congenital adrenal hyperplasia, which affects about one in 5,000 girls." Girls with CAH have a large clitoris, and Rosin says, "for many years the standard treatment for this has been... cosmetic reduction of the size of the clitoris, usually done on infants before they turn 1." Note the use of the word cosmetic in that sentence. This surgery is not medically necessary, only asked for by parents who are uncomfortable with the idea of having a daughter with enlarged genitals.

Rosin tries to defend Poppas's actions by suggesting that what he practices is "nerve sparing" surgery, as opposed to the traditional removal of the organ. But as I've discussed, there really are no good reasons for altering a baby's genitals. I've come to the conclusion that if we hope to end the practice of FGM around the world, it's probably time to stop circumcising male babies, too. Yes, arguably male circumcision is a religious rite, but so is handling poisonous snakes. That doesn't mean it's a good idea. Plus, there are men all over the world doing just fine with foreskin who I imagine think circumcision is inhumane.

It's not just Poppas's genital cutting that has his critics on edge, but even more so the methods he uses in testing the effectiveness of his surgeries. Rosin reports that using a vibrator, "with a parent and a female nurse practitioner looking on, the doctor would measure the patient's sensitivity threshold by dialing up the stimulus until she could feel it and rate its intensity." According to reports, the doctor did not stimulate his patients to sexual arousal, but come on! I remember being 4 and knowing that it felt good to touch myself "down there." I'm sure his six-year-old patients were not writhing in ecstasy on their hospital beds, but the act is sure to be emotionally scarring nonetheless. Katy Kelleher at Jezebel says, "At the age of six, these girls are old enough to remember their visits to Poppas's office. They are old enough that the memory of a much older physician stimulating them with a vibrator will be easily accessible in later years. And Poppas wants to do this annually."

Not only are these girls now painfully aware that their pee-pees are "not normal," they're made to feel like Frankenstein. Just because you created a "perfect" genital area, doctor, does not give you unlimited control over the region. (Rosin reports that these testing methods were never approved by higher-ups at Cornell.)

Sex expert and Savage Love columnist Dan Savage is outraged over Pappas's methods, and maintains that "there's nothing wrong with these girls and their healthy, functional-if-larger-than-average clitorises; there's no need to operate on these girls; and surgically altering a girl's clitoris because it's "too big" has been found to do lasting physical and psychological harm." Rosin's true colors come out when she counters that by saying, "much as Savage might like it to be, the world is not yet a place where most little girls can have a clitoris that looks like a penis and feel entirely at ease. And few parents would want to use their daughter to test that proposition." Exactly, Ms. Rosin. If parents don't feel at ease with their children, how can these girls feel at ease with themselves? What's next, doing facial reconstruction surgery on children with Down Syndrome? One would never hear of such a thing, and most people show off their faces much more frequently than their private parts.

Poppas's work was brought to light by two bioethicists, Alice Dreger and Ellen Feder, who published an article in Bioethics Forum criticizing a 2007 paper Poppas and two colleagues wrote in the Journal of Urology. Dreger has written another critique of Poppas in Psychology Today, saying, "When I once asked a group of women with androgen insensitivity syndrome what they wanted me to work on primarily in my advocacy work, they said stopping the exams, particularly those in which med students, residents, and fellows parade through to check out the surgeon's handiwork."

Any woman who has given birth can probably relate to a small extent. I can't tell you how many strangers stuck their heads and fingers in my vagina during the over-24 hours I was in labor, and though of course I understood it was medically necessary, it is odd to be asked by a pretty, young nurse if you'd mind her shaving your pubes. One of the first hospital staff members I saw after getting my gown on was a young male intern who helped dilate my cervix. It makes me sick to think of the embarrassment young girls are going through, having their genitals poked and prodded and indeed nodded at with approval by men who are dictating what a woman should look like. As a chubby woman, I know what it feels like to be afraid that the world won't accept your naked body as is, but I'm an adult. I can handle those fears. I also contributed to my size and can do something about it, if I so choose. But I want to be accepted for who I am, to the extent that I am naturally curvy, in the same way that girls with enlarged genetalia have every right to consider themselves normal, too.

There is a petition at Change.org to "Tell Cornell University: Stop Genital Mutilation Now." It remains to be seen whether Poppas will be reprimanded by Cornell University for pursuing this methodology without permission. I certainly hope so.

Smiley Vagyrus

2010-06-18T12:36:00.008-04:00

Just came across this article while searching for news for my job, and I have to say, I think the idea of Perez Hilton being arrested for child porn for posting a scandalous picture of Miley Cyrus is the most ridonkulous thing I've ever heard.

So many questions:

1) Why was it okay to post an upskirt shot of a 25-year-old Britney Spears, but it's not okay to post an upskirt shot of a 17-year-old? What's the difference? Why should anybody's cooter be blog fodder?

2) Why do female celebrities continue to ride in limos wearing short skirts without underwear when they know they're going to be photographed while stepping out of their car? I wear underwear under Spanx for Christ's sake.

3) Why aren't there paparazzi laws that prohibit cameramen from shooting people while stepping out of their cars? Or at the grocery store. (I know why, because those photos sell, and the last living segment of the magazine industry is celebrity rags, but that doesn't make it right.)

4) Why is this image, according to Psychologist David Swanson (whoever he is) "normalizing the idea of sexualizing young adolescent girls." You know what else is normalizing the sexualization young adolescent girls? Every young adolescent girl who appears scantily clad in photos and videos. Their parents for allowing it, and in some cases encouraging it. Baby Gaga's mom (no matter what she says). Everyone in America. Shit.

I haven't seen the picture, but I've seen enough vag in my day that I can imagine it. (Yes, I can imagine the Cyrus Vagyrus and I'm sure it's covered in glittery stars.) All I'm saying is, if Miley Cyrus is making videos like Can't Be Tamed, she's trying to sexualize herself, and looking like an imitation in the process, I might add.

You can put smoky makeup and giant bird wings on the girl, but you can't hide her inner country bumpkin. (Take it from one who knows.) With Can't be Tamed, Cyrus is just doing her best Rihanna impression, both visually and musically. I'm shocked she even recorded the track, because she's been very open about the fact that she doesn't listen to pop music and only recorded her hit Party in the USA to support her clothing line.

Ironically, toward the end of Can't Be Tamed, Cyrus croons, "Don't change me." Odd, considering that with that song she changed her image completely. And all the publicity from the Hilton photo gaffe has only helped cement the idea that Miley is Hannah Montana no more.

Photo: AP/Armando Franca

Perez told Joy Behar last night, "I don't regret what I did and I would do the same thing again... Because it's not showing anything inappropriate. It's not actually doing anything worse than Miley herself has been doing." Exactly.

So is the argument that it's okay for Miley to be sexually charged in the context of a video, but not sexually exploited by the press? I hate to break it to you, Miley, but unlike Hannah Montana, you don't get to have the best of both worlds. In this world, you've got to choose.

How to Make a Hip-Hop Hit

2010-06-09T09:33:00.002-04:00

The newest rapisodic drama from Trizzle Threat, aka CKC, TMC and the biz who puts the show in showbiz, Beena Steena.

The crew can't stop fighting about what song to write next, but with a little help from fate and a band from the early 90's, they create the hit they need!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtWu0mhuTkM

Shot, directed and edited by Patrick Meaney of Respect Films.

***

Trizzle Threat began in 2009 as a comedic rap duo featuring Miss CKC (Carolyn Castiglia, VH1/ego trip's White Rapper Show & Miss Rap Supreme) and TMC (Tom McCaffrey, VH1's Best Week Ever & Comedy Central's Premium Blend). Their first video, How To Rob Comics, included cameos from Janeane Garofalo and Aisha Tyler and was featured on CollegeHumor.com. Shortly thereafter, they were joined by Beena Steena (Mara Herron, Fly Girl & That Chick Mara Herron) and their parody of the Sophie B. Hawkins classic Damn (You Wish) (dir. Anya Garrett) was nominated in the Best Comedic Short Film category at the 2009 ECNY Awards.

Trizzle Threat recently appeared in Joke Life at Comix and will be performing live at UCB on June 10, 2010 as a part of Sketchfest. You can see them on Comedy Central's The Atom Show on June 15 and hear their killer tracks on the hip-hop/comedy CD Get Rich or Move Back in With My Dad produced by Super Duper Records, Summer 2010.

Comix LowDown

2010-06-04T12:09:00.006-04:00

Hey guys! Here are a couple of fun vidz I shot last month for Comix. The first one is about cheating celebs like Jesse James and Tiger Woods, and the second is about my favorite teen superstar, Justin Bieber! (I'm not being sarcastic. I know I've made fun of Bieber, but I would totally marry him. In a few years. When it's legal.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hng0FsdMvhk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8I4wrbDx-k

Splurge! Tonight, Moonwork Tomorrow

2010-06-04T11:31:00.002-04:00

Friday, June 4th at 7:30 pm
Doors at 7
Splurge! at Happy Ending
302 Broome Street (Forsyth/Eldridge)
Free!
http://splurgeathappyending.blogspot.com

Featuring:

Dan Allen (Premium Blend)
Badlands Booker (Competitive Eater, Hip-hop mogul fresh off the GoDaddy Indy500 ads)
Lisa Kaplan (Lesbians of Laughter Tour)
Amy Schumer (Last Comic Standing, Comedy Central Presents)
Sheng Wang (Live at Gotham)

Musical Guest: Adira Amram (Kid Koala's Slew Tour)

Video Premiere by Tom McCaffrey (Premium Blend), Mara Herron (Maury) and your host, Carolyn Castiglia (MTV, VH1)

Speaking of McCaffrey, our video Less Money, Mo Problems, will air on on The Atom Show on Comedy Central, June 15th at 2:30 am. That's prime time in Russia, son!

***

Saturday, June 5th at 9pm
Moonwork
Children's Aid Society
219 Sullivan Street
between Bleecker & West 3rd

Featuring:

Dan Allen (Premium Blend)
Carolyn Castiglia (me)
Shayna Ferm (The World Stands Up)
Hari Kondabolu (Live at Gotham)
Tom Shillue (Comedy Central Presents)
and more... (like a comedian whose superpower is being pale...)

$20 includes free beer - show is 21+, ID required. I'm doing stand-up, plus Shayna and I will perform our hit "Marriage is for Fags." Happy Pride!

Seriously Incredible Shows With Superb Lineups This Week!

2010-05-12T22:58:00.004-04:00

Looking down this list of shows, even I'm impressed. I feel very honored to be a part of such high-class tomfoolery! Hopefully you can join in at some point! (If you have to pick just one show, Splurge! is my baby, this Friday at 7:30.)

Thursday, May 13 at 7 pm
The Local Show
Pianos - 158 Ludlow at Stanton
Free!

Featuring:

Micah Sherman (Second City)
Nick Vatterott (MTV, Second City)
Carolyn Castiglia (MTV, VH1)
Helen Hong (E!, Comix)
Arden Myrin (Chelsea Lately, Mad TV)

Hosted by Asie Mohtarez (Cosmo Radio, Sirius XM, TONY) and Beth McGregor (Skywalker Ranch)

From Asie: Please come. Minimally, you can score the Douchebag badge on Foursquare if you check in at Pianos or get HPV just hanging out on Ludlow. That's how you sell a show.

Later that same night at 9:30!
Joke Life: A Comedy Hip-Hop Show
Comix - 353 W. 15th Street at 9th Ave.
$10 - http://comixny.com/event.aspx?eid=770

Featuring:

Victor Varnado (The Awkward Comedy Show, Conan)
Ted Alexandro (Comedy Central Presents, Letterman)
Rob Cantrell (Last Comic Standing, Marijuanalogues)
Snakes (UCB, Winners of the ECNY for Best Musical Comedy Act)
Soce the Elemental Wizard and Shawn Hollenbach with me doing Lemme See

And of course CKC, Beena Steena and your host with the most, TMC, aka Tom McCaffrey (Premium Blend, VH1)

We'll be doing our newest track for the first time! Be there!

Friday, May 14 at 7:30 pm
Doors and Snacks at 7
Splurge! at Happy Ending
302 Broome Street (Forsyth/Eldridge)
FREE

Featuring:

PATRICK BORELLI (Premium Blend, Conan)
ROGER HAILES (Live at Gotham)
ADRIENNE IAPALUCCI (New York Comedy Festival)
MARGOT LEITMAN (Moth StorySlam Winner)
JESS WOOD (HBO's Def Comedy Jam)

Musical Guest: STUCKEY & MURRAY (Last Comic Standing)
Video Premiere by Becky Yamamoto (VH1)

SPLURGE! at Happy Ending is a monthly comedy showcase featuring stand-up and musical comedy from New York's most exciting talent. Every month will bring the premiere of a new short comedic film, and each show will close with host Carolyn Castiglia's hilarious signature freestyle rap.

Saturday, May 15th at 11 pm
SoloNova Ones at Eleven
PS 122 - 150 1st Ave. at 9th Street
$10

Featuring:

W. Kamau Bell - Premium Blend, Montreal's Just for Laughs Fest
Christian Finnegan - Au Contraire and Comedy Central Presents
Jen Kwok - Brilliant musical comic. Jen and I will be doing our hit Take You Home!
Me! - I've done things. If you come, mention that you're there to see me!

Monday, May 17th at 7:30 pm
Case of the Mondays
Manchester Pub - 920 2nd Ave. at 49th Street
Hosted by Phoebe Robinson

Don't know who's on, but this is gonna be a fun bar show.

Tuesday, May 18th at 8 pm
Get Off Your Knees
The Bell House - 149 7th Street (2nd/3rd Aves.)
That's BROOKLYN, son.
Hosted by Sara Schaefer (Late Night with Jimmy Fallon)

Don't know who's on this one either, but it's always good.

Heading to Austin tomorrow for LAFF!

2010-05-05T16:39:00.006-04:00

I'm so psyched to be going to Austin, TX for the first time tomorrow, where I'll be performing a 30 minute set at the Ladies Are Funny Festival.

You can get show tickets here: http://laff2010.eventbrite.com/?ref=ebtn and sign up for my freestyle workshop! It's Saturday from 1-4.

The whole shebang takes place at:

Salvage Vanguard Theatre
2803 Manor Road
Austin, TX 78722

A bunch of my fave NYC comics are going, including my housemates from Edinburgh, Katie Hartman and Leah Rudick, aka Skinny Bitch Jesus Meeting. Yeehaw!

Babble!

2010-05-04T00:46:00.004-04:00

Boo! It's me again. Guess what?! I got a great new job! I'm covering parenting news (just follow the smell of diapers) for Babble's Strollerderby blog! You can check out everything I've written so far right here. Look, I even have a bio and everything! I'm very proud to be in the company of the women on that page. If you're not a fellow parent but you know some annoying people with kids, feel free to direct them to my stuff! Thanks!

I'm excited! Can you tell?!

New vidz and shizz!

2010-05-04T00:32:00.003-04:00

Oh hai. I have been a busy beaver! I'm busy making a dam out of online music videos. Here you go!

Less Money, Mo Problems with TMC from atom.com:

Less Money, Mo Problems

Atom.com: Funny Videos Spoofs Sing-Alongs

Bieber Fever with Mark Douglas from The Key of Awesome:

I do the Bieber vocals and have a brief cameo as the reporter. Fun timez!

If you're reading this on Facebook, click View Original Post to see the vids.

Rejection Show! Plus more upcoming stuff...

2010-04-20T21:50:00.005-04:00

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 21 at 8 pm

The Rejection Show at UCB

307 W. 26th Street at 8th Ave.
$5
http://www.rejectionshow.com/

Featuring the REJECTED material of:

Jake and Amir (CollegeHumor)
Pete Holmes, Matt McCarthy, & Oren Brimer (Front Page Films)
Carolyn Castiglia (VH1)

Plus live music from The Rejection Show House Band The Defibulators! Brought to you by Jon Friedman (Late Night with Jimmy Fallon).

*I'm pretty sure I'm going to rap in a bathing suit. There are all sorts of reasons (good and bad) to say you witnessed that.*

***

FRIDAY, APRIL 23 at 9:30 pm

The Back Room in Ochi's Lounge at Comix

353 W. 14th Street at 9th Ave.
Free!

Featuring Jym Benzing, Cara Kilduff, Neil Thornton, Robin Gelfenbein, and me!
Hosted by Paul Case and Jenny Rubin.

***

SATURDAY, APRIL 24 at 8 pm

Diamonds in the Fluff at Karma

51 1st Ave. btn. 3rd/4th Streets
Donations for animal rescue encouraged.

With Pat Dixon, Tom Sibley, Clayton Fletcher, RG Daniels, Amy Beckerman, Jenny Rubin and me! Guest host: Phoebe Robinson, brought to you by Jamie Lee.

***

MONDAY, APRIL 26 at 8 pm

Service Not Included at Le Poisson Rouge

158 Bleecker Street

Tickets are $10 and can be purchased online at http://www.lprnyc.com/ or by calling 212-505-3474. Save $3 on tickets by using promo code "SNILPR" (online only).

“Service Not Included” features writers and comedians sharing funny anecdotes and horror stories about their experiences working in the service industry. Performers re-live some of the worst (or best) moments at their “day jobs” in what has become known as a humorous faux-educational program for those who have never worked in the service industry.

Featuring:

Paul Oddo (he's funny)
Carolyn Castiglia (that's me!)
Joe List (Live at Gotham)
Desiree Burch (Edinburgh Fringe)
Ophira Eisenberg (Premium Blend, The Moth)

Brought to you by Justin Gray.

Drink Specials include $5 well, wine, and draught all night! I love this show. I'll be talking about my days at Applebee's.

Unconditional

2010-04-18T21:16:00.001-04:00

A play in two lines.

Me: I love you, even though you drive me crazy.
Adriana: I always love you. I love you even when you yell.

Fin.

See me live tonight!

2010-04-08T09:30:00.001-04:00

First at...

Risk! at 92Y Tribeca
200 Hudson Street
7 pm

With:

Leo Allen (Comedy Central Presents)
Carolyn Castiglia (that's me!)
Joey Hood (Manhattan Project)
Aasif Mandvi (The Daily Show)
Sara Schaefer (Late Night with Jimmy Fallon)

Hosted by Kevin Allison (The State)

Tickets are $15. You can buy online in advance or at the door.

Then at 8:30 pm...

Abe Mixture at Legion Bar
790 Metropolitan Ave. in Brooklyn
Free

Featuring:

Hiram Becker
Carolyn Castiglia
Adam Conover
Jessie Geller
Jared Logan
Rose Surnow
...and music by Jonathan Graves

Brought to you by Deepak Ananthapadmanabha

Behind the Awesome, Entertainment Weekly

2010-04-07T09:05:00.004-04:00

Remember the awesome Lady Gaga parody I did a few weeks ago? Well, it's on the "Must List" in the current issue of Entertainment Weekly! That's pretty awesome. And EW is doing a feature on Mr. Awesome himself, Mark Douglas, very soon!

BTDubs, Gaga's original video for Telephone is here, in case you haven't seen it. It's of course fascinating because it's Gaga, but you will never get those 9 minutes back. (Then again, you're on the internet right now, so using your time wisely is not one of your primary concerns, am I right? We've lost all sense of propriety! I should be reading. But Facebook is a book, no?) Anyhoo - here are a couple of videos Mark made surrounding the Telephone parody. I'm in the first one, which is a look behind-the-lens at the filmmaking process and the second one is Mark responding to YouTube comments and voice mails. They're really... awesome.

For those of you reading on Facebook: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPm8RakL-hA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejF6fIFQp9s

Inspire Love

2010-03-29T08:42:00.001-04:00

My friend Abbi Crutchfield is such a talented little spitfire. She's that rare breed of smart, funny and genuinely kind. So when she wrote this piece about me having inspired her for Pepsi's We Inspire program, I was truly touched. She said every nice thing I could hope someone would say about me - and I'm not even dead yet!

Back in February, Abbi, her husband Luke Thayer and their friends (and adorable couple) Brendan Fitzgibbons and Jenna Brister organized an auction for Love 146, a charity that works to prevent child sex slavery. A personalized freestyle by yours truly was the first thing auctioned off at the event, and it was definitely divinely inspired. Take a look:

For those of you reading this on Facebook, here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMZn6k1JpeA

What is a Man?

2010-03-25T11:00:00.001-04:00

I contributed to this piece on MarieClaire.com that's a response to Esquire's "What is a Man?" feature from the female perspective. If you click "play slideshow" the photos scroll a little too fast to read the accompanying captions, so click thru manually to get all the funny bits from (my fellow video ho) Jen Kwok, Alison Rosen, Sara Benincasa, Jamie Lee and Chelsea White.

Here's my favorite bit, dedicated to Livia Scott:

"A man is strong. A man is fierce. RuPaul is a man."

Behind the Music

2010-03-25T10:00:00.001-04:00

I spent Sunday shooting a new music vid for Take You Home, a slammin' hot techno jam by Jen Kwok, featuring me, Miss CKC, directed by Ballard C. Boyd. Don't miss the PREMIERE at Splurge! next Friday, April 2 at 7:30 pm at Happy Ending, 302 Broome Street (Forsyth/Eldridge), NYC. The film includes cameos by David Cope and my baby girl! Here's a documentary photo sneak peak! Shots by the beautiful Anya Garrett.

Adriana played with her new pal Greg Moss while I was styled by the brilliant JR Tabanao, who also made the fabulous, feathery skirt you see Jen wearing, below.

Transformation complete! Adriana made tons of friends on set including Joe Valkenburgh (pictured) and was definitely the belle of the ball.

The man behind the music, Andrew Singer, aka Soce, plus the lady behind the lens, Anya Garrett, along with the dancers and choreographer and my BFFAD (boyfriend for a day) David Cope.

CKC as Beyonce!

2010-03-24T12:49:00.002-04:00

I did Beyonce's vocals for this parody of Lady Gaga's Telephone by Barely Digital. Watch it! (Or a piano might fall on your head.)

Comedy Roundup: NCCAF, Splurge!, ECNY Awards

2010-03-17T23:25:00.007-04:00

You know, I get busy performing and parenting and pooping and I don't always have time to recap everything I've been up to. So every few months I'll write this massive photo-heavy post that attempts to say, "Look at me! These are the places I've been and people I've had the pleasure of working with! Hopefully someday someone will print this for me so I can enjoy a really exact account of my life - accompanied by hyperlinks that make no sense in a scrapbook!"

FEBRUARY 2010:

Had a great second-ever Splurge! show on the 5th. (Next show April 2!) Here are a few cute shots of my gorgeous, glittery blue eyeliner from that joint:

The shot in the middle makes me feel like I could maybe get fit and be super cute if I tried real hard and stopped eating before bed. I've been absentmindedly cradling food at bedtime: bags of chips, boxes of crackers, hot dogs... It's kind of self-defeating. Hugging calories-standing-in-for-a-lover will probably curtail my attempts at finding said lover. (Though I hope whoever he is, he likes nachos. I mean, some things are just dealbreakers.)

I spent Feb. 12th-14th in North Carolina with my pals Claudia Cogan, M. Dickson, Anya Garrett, Jessie Geller, Chelsea White and Dan Wilbur at the North Carolina Comedy Arts Fest. Plus, I met a bunch of nifty comics from all over this great nation. Here are some fun shots of us at our Bob Evans breakfast that will go down in infamy, and then us hanging out on the beautiful Duke University campus.

Ladies don't lounge on the lawn with their legs wide open! (That means Chelsea is a lady.) Photo by Dan Wilbur. You can see all of Anya's coverage of the trip here.

We had a really great stay at the Holiday Inn Chapel Hill, which has this amazing photo-op for Tar Heels fans right in their lobby:

Anya and Dan

Me and Claudia. Si si, CC! CC!

Chelsea and Jessie

GO TEAM!

I drove the whole way down and most of the way back, so the kids indulged me with a stop in Baltimore on our return. We trudged all over town in the snow trying to get to my favorite place, (Eat) Bertha's (Mussels) in Fells Point. We finally found it, and it was just as good as I remembered.

It had been a long, strange trip.

MARCH 2010:

Started with the third Splurge! on the 5th! I don't have any pics, but check out this great short we premiered called "The Therapist" by Ditch Films, starring Rob Cantrell, Yannis Pappas, I even show my acting chops in it a bit as the annoyed wife. (Big stretch!)

The next night, March 6th, I had the honor of performing at Moonwork for the first time. If you live in New York and you haven't been, you should definitely go! Tom Shillue always closes the show, Jim Gaffigan stops by frequently. In addition to the aforementioned comedic geniuses, I shared the lineup with Dan Allen, Kevin Allison and Lizz Winstead. Here's a lovely photo from the show, taken by Mindy Tucker:

You can see the rest of Mindy's set from the night here.

Monday, March 8th were the ECNY Awards. (If you have time, go to the site and watch the opening video. Tom Shillue's lip-synching to the Trololo song is a joy.) And though we did not win for Best Comedic Short (MAJOR UPSET!), I had the opportunity to grace the stage with the one and only Shayna Ferm on her new hit, "Marriage is for Fags," which I'm proud to say made the Comix list of "Our Fourteen Favorite Moments from the ECNY Awards." (Mom, I'm in the Top 14! Not sure what would happen were it whittled down to 10, but hey!) Shayna and I have also recorded the jam and will be filming a video at some point soon.

The ECNY's were really incredible this year, thanks in large part to the Producers, of course, but also to the smooth backstage stylings of my gal Christina Dunham and the super-impressive video montages of one Ms. Chelsea White! Sisters are doin' it for themselves! And selflessly for the benefit of the greater New York comedy community!

Here's an article in Backstage recapping the whole shindig, and definitely check out Kirill Bichutsky's awesome photo gallery. Here's one he took of me whilst onstage rocking hard:

Some photos of my crew:

Tom McCaffrey and Christina Dunham

Ladies! Shockwave! Ladies love Shockwave! I mean, and Tom!

TMC with our pimp mama, Sara Schaefer. Photo by Keith Huang.

Mara Herron, aka Beena Steena, aka SHE HAD PEACOCK FEATHERS IN HER EYELASHES! You have no idea.

Kumail Nanjiani, CKC, Myq Kaplan. Those guys are winners! But I've got a winning smile. Photo by Keith Huang.

***

And what does April promise to bring us on our journey, friends? Splurge! on April 2 - at a new time! 7:30! Come early! I'll be doing Kevin Allison's great storytelling show, Risk!, plus Diamonds in the Fluff hosted by Jamie Lee. Oh, and Easter. The "bunny" will bring you "chocolate" if you're not a "Jew." (And, quite often, if you are a "Jew" and also if you're not a "Christian.") In May I'm going to Austin for the first time! That should be fun, right? And there's Mother's Day. My "kid" might "make" me a "picture." I "hate" it when "people" use "quotes." It's such "a" gimmick. (Oh, but that last one was creative, right?!)

THANK YOU, GOODNIGHT!

Madness: Motherhood and Mortality

2010-03-16T00:29:00.010-04:00

It's hard to believe that mortality rates among mothers are on the rise in 2010, but this piece by ABC News (sent to me by Bonnie Petrie of Pea in the Podcast) claims exactly that. Research suggests the rise in planned c-sections are a factor, given that cesarean birth involves a higher risk of infection. Additionally, new findings by Amnesty International suggest that African-American women are four times more likely to die in childbirth than white women.

Cesarean sections make up nearly one-third of all deliveries in the United States-twice as high as recommended by the World Health Organization. African American women have the highest c-section rate of any group. The risk of death following c-sections is more than three times higher than for vaginal births.

To compound the problem, multiple c-sections put mothers at risk for internal bleeding, yet many hospitals have bans against VBAC, or vaginal birth after cesarean.

Last week, the National Institutes of Health met to discuss that very topic, and came to the conclusion that hospitals should lift any bans on VBAC. Web MD covered the panel discussion and suggests that women, given the option, can have a successful vaginal delivery after a prior c-section.

About 75% of women succeed in having a vaginal delivery after previous cesarean delivery, assuming that it's not a multiple birth, that the baby is in the normal position, and that their previous C-section required only a single incision.

According to the ABC report, the lives of mothers who deliver via c-section can be saved out of thin air. At Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York, nurses place an inflatable boot on recovering patients to help prevent blood clots that might otherwise cause them to suffer a stroke.

My daughter Adriana was born, much to my chagrin, via c-section after induction. Though my birth plan centered around the mantra, "Squat down, Squeeze it out, Wrap it up, Take it home," my body had other ideas. A few weeks after Adriana was born, I had the privilege of speaking at the March of Dimes National Communications Advisory Council Health Issues Luncheon, "Cesarean Section: Consumer Preference or Medical Necessity?" moderated by Gretchen Carlson. The other mothers I met that day all seemed to have some sense of regret about not having given birth vaginally, yet the doctors present suggested that scheduled (non-emergency) c-sections seemed to be growing in frequency. Have you had a c-section or a VBAC? Did your doctor address any concerns you had and how safe do you feel each procedure to be? Leave your thoughts and stories in the comments!

Photo courtesy of the author, who is shown prepped for her c-section at Columbia Presbyterian in New York, NY.

New HuffPo on Healthcare Summit

2010-02-25T13:46:00.002-05:00

Click to read the entire piece, "Treatment: A Mother's Opinion of the Healthcare Summit." Here's a snippet:

Desperate and hoping someone could help, I decided to take her to the emergency room, where after several hours they prescribed a pedia-enema, that I was to administer by myself at home. That's frustrating and ridiculous on many levels, because first and foremost, when we checked in the nurse at the front desk asked me if I'd tried giving Adriana an enema, I said, "No. Is that what I should do?" The nurse suddenly became very quiet, replying, "Oh. I don't know. I--" and trailed off, moving on to the next question. Clearly that is what I should have done, since that's what the Doctor's Assistant (yes, I only saw an assistant) ultimately suggested, but because medical professionals seem to dispense advice based in a fear of malpractice lawsuits, (my ex) was forced to pay $60 out of pocket on a $400 bill (for a $2 product). I could have Googled parental poopinions for free, which is why so many people spend so much time on WebMD. Do we really want an entire nation of individuals who are convinced thanks to self-diagnosis that they're suffering from Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis? (A spelling disorder second only to Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.)

S.A.D.

2010-02-09T19:15:00.004-05:00

Here it is, the Winter Jam from CKC, TMC and Beena Steena, shot and directed by Anya Garrett! Feeling depressed since the groundhog saw his shadow? Spend the next six weeks of winter cranking this and you'll be fine.

Thanks to The Comedy Nerds, Comedy Central Insider and the folks at Late Night with Jimmy Fallon for sharing our pain!

Update: We also received link love from Tru Tv's Dumb As A Blog, ComedySmack and my gal pal Two Can Anne. Thanks, guys!

Sparkle and Shine

2010-02-09T15:58:00.005-05:00

Taking good photos of live performance is a tricky thing, especially if your subject likes to dance around making weird faces that tend to exaggerate the fleshy area around her jawline. (Ahem.) That being a given, I'm always happy when I see a flattering shot of myself captured during a stand-up set, and I think this is a lovely one by Greg Gilbert of Aemiessence Fine Arts from the November 13th Living Room Comedy show in Park Slope. The show is run by newlyweds Abbi Crutchfield and Luke Thayer, who happen to have had their engagement photos done by Greg as well. You can see those here, if you like. Such a handsome couple!

Me backstage, wigging out. Thanks, Greg!

ECNY Award Nominations!

2010-02-08T10:00:00.001-05:00

Last week the official nominees were announced for this year's ECNY Awards, and I'm happy to say that my music video with Tom McCaffrey, Mara Herron and Anya Garrett, DAMN (You Wish), is in the running for Best Short Comedic Film! I'd love for you to give it your vote at the link below!

http://www.ecnyawards.com/vote/vote.php

Voting is simple. No need to register or vote everyday. Before March 3, simply vote once per email address and then click the link sent to your email to confirm your vote. That's it! It would be great if you also voted for the flyer designed by Anya Garrett for my solo show Brown Ambition in the Outstanding Achievement in Flyer or Postcard Design field.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

Look for CKC, TMC and Beena Steena in some serious red carpet wear at the ceremony!

The 6th Annual ECNY Awards
March 8 at 8 pm
Comix
353 W. 14th St. at 9th Ave.
$10 in advance, $15 at the door
http://www.comixny.com/event.aspx?eid=710&sid=2541

Be Not Afraid of Greatness

2010-02-05T09:00:00.011-05:00

It was Shakespeare in Twelfth Night who penned the line, "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."

Others just consistently brush up against greatness by accident. Like me. First Elizabeth Gilbert and then... John Malkovich. Two weeks ago today, he and I shared a moment.

I'm sorry. Did I just say I shared a moment with John Malkovich? I meant that I saw John Malkovich in a cafe, but knowing John Malkovich (like I now do), I can tell you that no one just *sees* John Malkovich. When you lock eyes with JOHN MUTHERF*CKING MALKOVICH, you share a MOMENT, okay?!

Let me preface my Malkovich tale by saying that my dalliance with the Universe is unfolding in some pretty bizarre and incredible ways. The day before I met John, I ran into someone on the train - the V train - and no one takes the V train. I don't even know why I was on the V train. But I saw a guy I knew. And I know I knew him, because he knew me, and he said my name. He said it in a way I don't think I've ever heard anyone say my name, as if my mere presence changed his whole morning. And I have no idea who he is. We recognized each other, hugged, and then I realized I'd gotten off at the wrong stop! So I got back on the train. Who are you, mystery man? A friend of a friend? A fellow former high school brass player? (You look like a low brass player. Trombone probably. Tuba possibly, but baritone more likely.) Did we temp together? Do you read this blog? WHO ARE YOU?

But, anyway... back to the matter at hand. So there I was, enjoying the morning on [redacted so as not to blow his cover] Street in NYC, ordering a latte, mindlessly turning my face toward the sun streaming through the plate glass window. Suddenly I notice the man sitting in front of the window. He looks familiar. "That's John Malkovich," I thought. But no, it couldn't be! John Malkovich, right there? Right in front of me? I searched him a bit longer to see if I could recognize the eyes and mouth beneath the white brow and beard. It was him! As soon as I'd surely identified him, I felt my heart in my throat. What does one do in the presence of John Malkovich? Bow? Kiss his ring? Ask to visit the 7 1/2th floor? I wasn't sure. I waited for a sign.

He started eyeing me. He was doing that thing that actors do, trying to decode my backstory. Or maybe he thought he knew me. At any rate, he seemed intrigued. I must admit, even I'm intrigued by myself when I walk out into the world in pajamas and last night's eyeliner. I just can't stop staring at myself in the reflection of store windows thinking, "Damn, girl! You are living your life!" (Back in '07, with a lack of irony that was never lost on me, I'd clomp from my apartment in Weehawken, NJ in said charming state of disarray over to the Pathmark to see if my celebrity fashion commentary had made it into the most recent issue of Life & Style. Stars: they're just like us! Or rather, we're just like them.)

When I felt our eyes lock, I knew it was time to avert my gaze. Making intense eye contact with Malkovich is like looking into the sun: it shouldn't be done. And if you do it, you best know you're playing with fire. Instead I began talking to the counter girl, complimenting her on her necklace. I added sugar to my coffee and then began my exit. On the way out, passing gently by his table, I nodded ever so feebly, offering a small, closed-lip smile. In my mind, I felt like a geisha, winking discreetly at an important and secret client. In reality, I probably looked like an idiot savant with a facial tick. Nevertheless, I felt Malkovich's fairy dust all over me. I was spent, as if we'd just finished making love on the set of Les Liaisons Dangereuses.

Let me not neglect to mention that he was sporting the absolutely gayest shirt I've ever seen. Because I think that's a very important piece of the puzzle. And apparently, he thinks puzzle pieces are important, too, because his chemise bore a similar motif. It was a silky button-down covered in what appeared to be red, orange and green puzzle pieces. It looked like early 2000's Pucci crossed with an MC Escher painting. If memory serves, the shapes may have been melting, Dali-style, just for effect. It was a dazzling display of "Darling, I don't give a f*ck."

Just about an hour after I left Malkovich, I fell in the train. Not ON the train, not whilst riding the train, but rather IN the train, or more specifically in the crack between the door and the platform, known in more proper British circles as THE GAP. (Yes, it is apparently possible although highly ridiculous to fall in THE GAP. No, I know it's not probable. Yes, it hurt. No, it's not the same as falling into THE GAP that sells khakis, though that is their slogan.) The point is, a man rescued me. (And after my divorce, I didn't think that was possible or probable, either.) Who was he, you ask? What did he look like? I don't know. Because I DIDN'T EVEN SAY THANK YOU. I was too much in shock. I didn't even look at his face. All I know is that I exited the train doors wearing a makeshift haz-mat suit while passing out handiwipes brandishing the Comix comedy club logo, and suddenly I was knee deep in THE GAP. Then as time stood still I heard a man say, "HOLY F*CK!" and felt his hands in my armpits, lifting me out of the crater I'd landed in. I limped away laughing at myself and he got on the train. You know, just another Friday in New York.

So, to you, kind Sir, guardian angel of the MTA, I say THANK YOU. Thank you for saving the lower half of my left leg from total and utter destruction. And thank you for saving all the passengers on the 2 express from being late for work due to a sick passenger. ("Do you know why the train is late?" "Sick passenger." "Man, F*ck that." "Dude, she lost a limb!" "I don't care, I'ma lose my job! Be careful next time, fat bitch!") Thank you.

Despite the near tragedy of my fall, my brief encounter with Malkovich gave me the energy I needed to destroy a heckler - during someone else's set - later that night. He was a musician that I swiftly put into place with a John Mayer comparison. (Because John Mayer is an annoyingly cloying musician who loves to heckle at NYC comedy shows*.) The lovely and talented Jiwon Lee continued her performance after the heckler left and said, "Wow. For those of you who don't know, Carolyn is a comedian. And she can rap. You should teach high school in The Bronx!"

I'll take that as a compliment and leave you with this thought:

Why hasn't anyone made a Michelle Pfeiffer mash-up of Dangerous Liaisons/Dangerous Minds? Now, that's GREATNESS!

*For those of you not involved in the scene, this is a true fact and not conjecture or hyperbole. Ya learn somethin' new everyday, as my Dad used to say.

Coupla shows this weekend!

2010-02-04T23:26:00.002-05:00

Friday, February 5th at 8 pm

http://splurgeathappyending.blogspot.com/

SPLURGE! at Happy Ending is a brand-new monthly comedy showcase featuring stand-up and musical comedy from New York's most exciting talent. Every month will bring the premiere of a new short comedic film, and each show will close with host Carolyn Castiglia's hilarious signature freestyle rap.

Featuring:

ROB CANTRELL (Marijuana-Logues, Last Comic Standing)

HARI KONDABOLU (Live at Gotham, Jimmy Kimmel Live)

ANDREA ROSEN (Michael and Michael Have Issues, Stella)

BARON VAUGHN (Live at Gotham, Black Dynamite)

LIZZ WINSTEAD (Creator of The Daily Show)

Musical Guest: JESSICA DELFINO (Montreal Just for Laughs Festival)

Plus the premiere of my newest music video S.A.D. with Tom McCaffrey (Premium Blend) and Mara Herron (Maury), shot by Anya Garrett (Comedy Central's "Honesty" web series).

***

Saturday, February 6 at 8 pm
Fundraiser for Love146
Camp Friendship Community Building
339 8th Street, Park Slope, Brooklyn

I'll be auctioning off a freestyle about the highest bidder! Love146 is a charity that is working to end child sex slavery and exploitation.

When you shut up and listen, the Universe keeps on giving.

2010-01-17T23:53:00.007-05:00

I guess that's not the most placid way to get such a new age message across, but I find it true, nonetheless. And here's why: in the past year, when I have been able to push my ego aside and listen to what the Universe is really urging me to do instead of trying to force my will upon it, I have experienced great things. For example, last week (Tuesday, January 5th, to be precise) I walked into Barnes and Noble in Union Square to buy a planner. As I approached the escalator to the second floor I saw a sign that said, "Elizabeth Gilbert, Book Discussion and Signing, 4th floor." Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love. Elizabeth Gilbert, guru to divorced women everywhere. Elizabeth Gilbert, sole reason I picked up the most recent copy of Oprah Magazine, in order to read an excerpt from her forthcoming book, "Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage." The very book she was SIGNING UPSTAIRS!

I kept gliding up the moving steps, past the children's section on the second floor where I used to take Adriana when she was an infant to ~~chew on~~ read books, past the third floor all the way to the top. My foot stepped off the electronic stair onto the industrial carpeting just as the room erupted into applause; her speech was over. I'd made it there just in time for the meet and greet. Of course I was way in the back of a sea of people, but I needed a copy of the book. I walked up to a shelf much closer to the front where loads of the orange-jacketed tomes were displayed. I took one and sat down in an empty seat in the first row of the second section. I noticed the guy who was organizing the line was a classmate of mine from high school. I'd run into him there years before but totally forgot he worked in management. We chatted for a bit and I felt totally at ease. I was running late for a meeting, but somehow I knew I'd get out just in time.

Inching closer and closer to the author herself, I rehearsed what I'd say in my head. "Think, Carolyn. You have 2 seconds to make maximum impact. Be funny, but be cool. Don't cry like you did when you met Margaret Cho." (Yeah, sorry about that Margz. I was PMSing for total real.) My mind was racing: "Your book got me through my divorce, and you're the reason I bought Oprah magazine this month (THIS month... last month it was Ellen... and the month before that it was, uh... Suze Orman... who's in the mag every month, with good ol' Dr. Phil...), because I wanted to read the excerpt from your new book, and your TED talk was amazing, and I do YOGA now, and (cue tears) YOU'RE JUST REALLY INSPIRATIONAL, OKAY?!"

But I didn't say ~~any~~ most of that. I simply said, "Hey..." and smiled, which really seemed to catch her attention. Then I kind of nonchalantly put my hands on the table and said, "Your book got me through my divorce, and your TED talk is amazing..." and before I could ~~embarrass myself by saying "You're the reason I think I might be able to write a memoir of my own"~~ get any further, her face changed. Her cherubic little blond face suddenly developed this look of concern, this pang of knowingness, and she said, "Oh, I'm so sorry you went through that."

"That's okay," I replied. "I've got a cute haircut and I do yoga now, so fuck it."

Fuck it?! Did I really just say FUCK IT in front of Elizabeth Gilbert?!

She chuckled. "Yeah, that's called a fuck you cut, right?"

OMG THIS BITCH IS SO DOWN!

I laughed, picked up my autographed book exited the podium. I tried to be quick about taking a picture once back on the floor, but my hands were shaking and I finally felt nervous. It took me about 6 tries to get one that wasn't too blurry, but I did:

My new friend Beth McGregor was also there and told me she used her two seconds with Liz (yeah, we're at nickname level now) to tell her that her skin was "luminous," and E. Gilbz shot back with, "Nah, I'm just sweaty."

OMG THIS BITCH IS SO DOWN!

But it's true, though! I know some people hate Eat, Pray, Love - and if they haven't read it they hate the IDEA of Eat, Pray, Love (Mara Herron: "My aunt told me to read it and I was like, what is this housemom bullshit?!") - but, I think the NYT says it best when they describe Lizzie G's prose as "fueled by a mix of intelligence, wit, and colloquial exuberance that is close to irresistible."

HERO. End of story.

But that's not the end of the story. So I went to the checkout with Beth, and we said bye, and I realized I'D FORGOTTEN TO BUY A PLANNER! So I asked the woman at the Customer Service counter where the planners were, and she said,

"Oh, the planners are all sold out."

"Ha! The planners are all sold out? All of them?"

"Yep. All of them."

So thank you, Universe, for sending me into Barnes and Noble for a planner and out with the signature of a hero. BethBert (that's a pet name just between us), if you are reading this, and I'm sure you are, since what deeply spiritual person doesn't have a vanity Google Alert on themselves, I want you to know that if we had time for coffee, I would have said so much more. I would have told you about my own EPL moment in Scotland this summer, that happened right here, on the grass in the park on that first day, with the extraordinary view of Arthur's Seat, and how later I climbed that volcano, and learned to love myself again. (Cuz, um, I have never had a problem eating.) And I'm praying again now, too, and meditating (a bit) *all the way down to my liver.* (Since I've never had a problem drinking, either, my liver probably needs it.) And I would have said, simply, Thank You, for your bravery and for sharing your story.

OH, BUT THAT'S NOT ALL.

Nope. So, I've been doing stand-up for about 7 years now, and I'm pretty good at it. That's neither meant to be boastful nor critical, just an honest assessment in the realm of the profession, in comparison to 20 year vets. I think in about 3 years, I'll probably be pretty great at it. But one thing I do extraordinarily well is freestyle rap. I don't know why. I'm a freak of nature - like Steve Martin in The Jerk. And my friend Adira Amram once told me, "Carolyn, I think you should freestyle every time you get onstage. Every set. Without fail. That's your closer." And I knew where she was coming from, but I thought, "Eh, I don't want to be known as the girl with the gimmick. I'm an artist! And that's not stand-up." No, it's not. It's something bigger than stand-up. It's entertainment, which is now, has been and always will be my aim. But because I wanted to be known as a stand-up, I resisted her excellent advice for some time. Finally, as years went by and funny hip-hop projects kept coming my way, I gave in, happily. In the last few months I've had 2 music videos hit number one on the YouTube Comedy charts and last Thursday, I had the chance to be on a lineup headlined by Colin Quinn (who is lovely, by the way), all because I put my ego to rest and let myself do what I do best. (See? I just rhymed. It's retarded.)

On that front, keep your eyes peeled for forthcoming video projects with Shayna Ferm (my partner in crime at the aforementioned Comedy Below Canal show with Colin Quinn), Jen Kwok (whose Date An Asian video was a YouTube smash with over 187,000 views) and of course Tom McCaffrey and Mara Herron! We shoot our next banger, S.A.D., with Anya Garrett this week!

In closing, save yourself precious time, children. Listen to your gut. Unless it's telling you to eat at midnight (ahem). Then you should listen to your head and go to bed. (Oops! I did it again! I rhyme all the time. Alright. Goodnight.)

New Music Video: Lemme See!

2010-01-13T17:25:00.005-05:00

It's been such a whirlwind two days collecting links from around the blog-gay-sphere that I forgot to post my new video "Lemme See" here! I wanna thank everyone who posted it yesterday: Boys and Lipstick, Wicked Gay Blog, Queer Isn't It?, AKA William, House of LeMay, Instinct Magazine. Big ups to Joe.My.God, Towleroad and most especially MANHUNT DAILY!

I really love the stills that Andy from Towleroad and Dewitt from Manhunt used. Take a look:

Thanks for the love!

I'm proud to announce that Lemme See was the #1 comedy video on YouTube yesterday in 23 countries (assuming the blank category is a country... and I hope it's the good ol' USA!). We were also the 79th most favorited video of the day. If I can't 69, I may as well 79! (WORST JOKE EVER! Hahaha...) My last video, DAMN (You Wish) also took the number one spot back in December.

So finally, without further ado, please enjoy Lemme See! Starring me, Shawn Hollenbach, Soce the Elemental Wizard, shot/directed/edited by Anya Garrett.

p.s. - While you watch, look carefully at 2:31. My boy Adolpho Blaire plays a mean fork and knife!

Shows this week!

2010-01-04T01:04:00.003-05:00

It's 2010, guys! We made it! Woo-hoo! Do you feel changed? No? That's cool! You'll try harder next time!

I am having a great 2010 so far! One of the ways I'm doing that is by using exclamation points a lot! The other way I'm doing that is by not killing CNN's Campbell Brown for trying to tell me yoga is a cult. The news ruins everything! (See? Even bad news is good when you sell it!)

Okay, okay. Enough of the small talk. I was just trying to butter you up so when you come see me at a show this week you'll taste good with popcorn! (Hopefully you will come see me this week. I mean, we are friends, or in some cases "friends" - but I am vowing to spend more time in people's physical space and less time in their FaceSpace, so why not start this week?!)

***

MONDAY, JANUARY 4TH AT 8 PM

Laughs at Luca Lounge
220 Avenue B (btn 13th/14th)
FREE

Featuring:

Carolyn Castiglia
Dan Goodman
Jiwon Lee
Sean Donnelly
Streeter Seidell

And your lovely co-producers Selena Coppock, Heidi Edsall and Giulia Rozzi!

Happy (Half) Hour with free pizza at 8, show starts at 8:30.

***

THURSDAY, JANUARY 7 AT 9 PM

Comedy Below Canal at 92YTribeca
200 Hudson Street
$10
www.92ytribeca.org/comedy

Featuring:

Rory Albanese (Executive Producer of The Daily Show)
Shayna Ferm (The World Stands Up)
Colin Quinn (Tough Crowd with... him.)
Tom Shillue (Comedy Central Presents)
Brooke Van Poppelen (Chicago Public Radio)

I'll be making a cameo appearance with Shayna on a brand new song! Don't tell Kanye!

***

FRIDAY, JANUARY 8TH AT 8 PM

Splurge! at Happy Ending
http://splurgeathappyending.blogspot.com/
302 Broome Street (Forsyth/Eldridge)
FREE

Featuring:

LEO ALLEN (Comedy Central Presents, SNL)
CRAIG BALDO (Last Comic Standing, Premium Blend)
CLAUDIA COGAN (NY Mag's 10 New Comedians, Here TV)
GIULIA ROZZI (Jimmy Kimmel, Stripped Stories at UCB)
TOM SHILLUE (Comedy Central Presents, Conan O'Brien)

Musical Guest: SHAYNA FERM (The World Stands Up)

Hosted by CAROLYN CASTIGLIA (MTV, VH1)

SPLURGE! at Happy Ending is a monthly comedy showcase featuring stand-up and musical comedy from New York's most exciting talent. Every month will bring the premiere of a new short comedic film. This month unveils CKC's newest rapsterpiece, "Lemme See," co-starring Shawn Hollenbach and Soce the Elemental Wizard, shot/directed/edited by Anya Garrett! Splurge! Go ahead, it's free.

***

JANUARY 9TH AT 8 PM

If You Build It at Karma
51 1st Ave. (btn 3rd/4th)
FREE

Featuring:

Carolyn Castiglia (Broad)
Rachel Feinstein (Womyn)
Kate Hendricks (Lady)
Mara Herron (Tits)
Jamie Lee (Gal)
Jessie Richardson (Doll)
Brooke Van Poppelen (Vagina)

Hosted by Kara Klenk (Earth Mother Destroyer) and Chelsea White (Fairy Princess)

Get it? It's ladies night! Woot! Collectively, our breasts have been seen on MTV, VH1, Last Comic Standing, College Humor, Boston Comedy Festival, Spike TV, Nickelodeon, Montreal Just For Laughs Festival, Premium Blend and Comedy Central Presents.

Slow Down, You Move Too Fast

2010-01-02T11:09:00.007-05:00

The need for speed is ubiquitous these days, surrounding us in a maelstrom of noise, from high-speed Internet that lets us multitask (and by multitask I mean uploading a video to YouTube while Twittering about Twilight) to action movies filled with 2 hours of explosions and jump cuts. The intensity of the media we consume, media that is designed to make us solitary, selfish creatures (Yahoo! is all about you! Customize your profile! We won't even show you any ads you don't relate to!) bleeds over into activities we execute away from the computer, like driving. As we all know, a major problem on the road today is that people can't seem to go without technology even behind the wheel, causing aggressive and absent-minded driving, accidents and unfortunately, death.

Just as generations before us were sold Electrolux and better living through chemistry, we are being sold social media as the revolution of the future. (For the record, I am not here to dispute the fact that the refrigerator is the best thing that was ever invented. It's a great place to store your sliced bread.) But we are duped into thinking that because most of the social web is offered as a free service, there is something liberal and democratic about it. Not necessarily. When I worked in online marketing, my supervisor once said, "I don't understand when people complain that they're being marketed to in a branded, online space. Do they think this is actually free?"

If we are going to be critical of big corporations and go green, use organic cleaning products and buy local produce, maybe we shouldn't be so blind as to think that our constant use of social media comes without a price. It pulls us away from our real lives, from nature, from interacting physically with one another. Yes, the web can be a brilliantly useful tool; certainly there is a phenomenon of parents coming clean about the perils of child-rearing and connecting in new, supportive ways. And it is of course a fun-filled arena of "communication," but is that communication of quality?

I am as guilty of TwitFace addiction as the next guy. I know that social media can be a friend when you're alone and suffering, be it going through a divorce or just forced to watch aging hippies perform poetry for hours. ("Only 14 hours of poetry to go. The old hippies have taken over the stage. I feel like I am inside Jerry Garcia's dead butthole." - Diane O'Debra). Who doesn't love getting a good quip in as they RT or respond to a status update? But at the same time, how many of us are "connected" online to people who, when we are face to face, have no idea what to say, or worse yet, wouldn't even bother?

PC's had become commonplace in offices and colleges by the late 90's when the Internet took hold of the American public's imagination. I remember signing up for my Yahoo email account as I graduated college in 1999. It felt so magical. When I entered the workforce, online shopping was the great distraction of employees nationwide. And then in 2004, I started to blog. Blogs were the first social networks, and they were - and for the most part still are - so much more substantial than the bite-sized nuggets of information offered on Facebook or Twitter. You could "meet" a fellow blogger online that you'd never met "IRL" and get to know them through their posts. Chances are, after enough online interaction, you'd end up meeting in person. I still lament the loss of the great WYSIWYG Talent Show at PS 122. My appearances there not only served as networking events during which I met some incredible people, but also helped advance my profile on the New York scene. Yes, bloggers were taking photos of each other just to put on their blogs, much like the Facebook pics of today, but on a blog, photos were accompanied by stories and links. You had to invest something to be a part of the blogging community.

And sure, there are uses and even advantages to Twitter and Facebook. Both can allow you to lead the people you're connected with to meatier content elsewhere on the web. The trouble is, many people (myself included) are so bogged down trying to keep up with everyone they follow on these sites, they don't have time for meatier content.

Which leads me to Trevor Butterworth's media manifesto, "Time For a Slow-Word Movement." In it he says:

In short, a relentless, endless free diet of fast media is bad for your brain. Generation Google--those who have never known a world without the Internet--it turns out, not only cannot use Google effectively, they don't even know enough about how to search for information to know they can't use Google effectively. The idea that the kids are whizzes at multimedia tasking is a platitude confected by middle-aged techno gurus to peddle their expertise as explainers of generational difference. In fact, relentless multitasking erodes executive function. And while the brain may not be overloaded by 34 gigabytes of brute information a day, it appears that too many of these mental quanta are the equivalent of empty calories. PlayStation and texting need to be balanced out by reading novels, handwriting (for old-fashioned digital dexterity) and playing with other live people if you want your child to develop to be an effective, skill-acquiring, empathetic adult.

Marty Beckerman has a piece up on The Daily Beast postulating that the aughts were the Worst Decade Ever, based on this Pew report. I wonder how much the dawn of the Internet has to do with our dissatisfaction with the new millennium thus far? According to a chart on the Pew site, 65% of people think the Internet as a whole is a change for the better. But when elements of Internet culture are broken down, the numbers look like this:

BlackBerrys/iPhones 56%
Online Shopping 54%
Social Networking Sites 35%
Internet Blogs 29%

(More people getting tattoos is only considered an improvement by 7% of the people questioned. Maybe I should get a tattoo of my blog layout?)

Of course 9/11 and the subsequent years of tyranny under Bush have a lot to do with the negative opinion people have of the last ten years. And the media's intense and frenzied response to the polarizing culture that followed was all over the TV and web, making us ravenous in our consumption of not just news, but views. Of course I realize I'm part of the monster; just another college-educated idiot (that's what it says on my SUNY diploma) with an opinion to share and a free publishing platform with which to do it. It's not the technology I find objectionable, but the urge to make the technology the center of our lives, which, if left unchecked, is worrisome to say the least.

My niece is a part of generation Google, and not only does she have a smart phone at age 12, she also sleeps with it. She texts at a break-neck pace and can't have an uninterrupted conversation to save her life. She hates that I impose rules on her phone use when we spend time together, but I have to. This summer, when she spent the night with my daughter, they were lying in bed together, sleepover style, and she was texting her boyfriend (which is another thing a 12-year-old shouldn't have). When I asked her to hand over her phone for the night, she cried and hid it between her breasts (yet a third thing she shouldn't posses).

So, in 2010, I plan to draw some lines. I have decided to limit my use of Twitter and Facebook to 2 hours a day (whether consecutive or total), and to dedicate myself to writing fuller pieces, be they scripts, blog posts (leading, hopefully, to a memoir), stand-up or songs. I do not have a smart phone and though I considered getting one, I've decided against it. I think one of the most important things we can do for ourselves in the coming decade is take time to disconnect, power down and go offline.

The Pew report suggests that people have fond memories of the 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's, and I can see why. Life was uncluttered; there was more time then to just be. So I'll sign off now with this song, courtesy of the greatest/most disastrous website on all of the Internet, YouTube.

Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.

Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin' Groovy.

Hello lamp-post,
What cha knowin'?
I've come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo-doo,
Feelin' groovy.

I've got no deeds to do,
No promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Life, I love you,
All is groovy.

The Great Poop Standoff of 2009

2010-01-01T17:33:00.004-05:00

Earlier today, I decided that the 7-day streak (heh-heh, streak) of Adriana not pooping would end. It had to. She was cranky, I was cranky. I got sick yesterday and thought maybe it was because of all the fecal matter I've been exposed to for the last week. Adriana's been having number two issues on and off for almost the entire month of December, and needless to say the hollies are less then jolly when your kid refuses to go on the potty. Her attempts at holding it in made all of us miserable. Not only was she soiling her underwear every hour on the hour, but she was growing increasingly irritable as the days went by. Her whining reached levels that would make Fran Drescher cringe.

So today, after she leaked glitter-sized bits of poop into her bathwater, I drew the line and said I was done living like this. I made her sit on the toilet until she went. I fired expletive after expletive like shrapnel into her bowels, and eventually, after shouting, "If you get off that toilet before taking a shit, you're dead!," she went. "I don't wanna be dead!," she cried, and dropped a pickle-sized poop in the pool.

Now, as any parent can attest, when your kid is going through a troubling phase, you'll try anything to make it end. Any advice, any procedure. I tried ignoring it, I tried forcing her to sit on the toilet, I tried coddling her, I gave her mineral oil and enemas, extra water, no dairy, gummy laxatives, I yelled, I sympathized, I reasoned and I pleaded. I bribed her with manicures and makeup. I even curled her hair in the hopes that it would inspire her to let one go.

I put eyeshadow on her lids, blush on her cheeks and lip gloss on her lips. Surely, I thought, little JonBenet did not give her mother these problems. So there she was, in her brand-new jeans and t-shirt gifted to her at Christmas. Two seconds after I took this picture, she not only pooped herself, she peed. On sequined denim. I shudder to imagine her college years. I only hope someone will hold her hair back. It took a long time to curl.

This afternoon, as her reward for finally marqueing el numero dos, she got to wear another new Christmas outfit, replete with ladies white gloves, jewels and a fancy hairdo, courtesy of the TopsyTail my Aunt Kathy sent. She even got a dollar from my mother to add to her Disney World fund.

Is she just adorable? Like Pinkalicious come to life! Except in the underwear department. An hour after I took these pictures, the prairie dog reared its ugly head once more (heh-heh, reared) and left its mark. Here's to hoping 2010 brings an end (heh-heh, end) to this torture. Heh-heh? Thud.

Home for the Holidays

2009-12-30T22:51:00.005-05:00

Who doesn't love family photos, am I right???

CHRISTMAS EVE

My mother makes a wonderful Santa; she got me a yoga mat (that I used for the first time tonight) and Adriana a Disney Princess tent. Adriana was (needless to say) thrilled with her tent and ran around the house shouting, "IloveitIloveitIloveitIloveitIloveit!" I got Adriana the "Cinderella dress" (as she called it) that you see her pictured in, above. Here's a brief, hilarious video of her opening it, along with my mother's commentary:

Christmas Eve 2009 from CarolynCastiglia on Vimeo.

My dear friend April used to say to me that she would never tell her children that Santa existed because she thought it was a cruel lie; that the pain of discovering the truth isn't worth the magic of the initial belief. Sure, that's a rational way of thinking, but I don't know: there's something really wonderful about putting treats out knowing that when they're gone in the morning your 4-year-old is going to yell, "Look! Santa left a note! And he ate all the cookies!" I took extra care in wrapping Adriana's presents this year, covering them in complimentary paper, as if Santa always works within a color scheme. It felt like important work, and was really fun, too.

CHRISTMAS DAY

Ah, the pictures of Christmas morning, full of rumpled pajamas and bed-head. Adriana got everything she wanted, which was easy given that she's not a very greedy child and only asked for one thing - the Mulan doll you see her with. It was the first present she opened. She also got clothes, pajamas, some jewels and makeup (read: chapstick), several books, a mini Kitt Kittredge American Girl doll and a child-sized papasan chair that matches her Princess tent.

I got three bows.

Click to see a larger version.

The rest of the family arrived at noon, including Adriana's father. We were able to spend a peaceful Christmas together, in large part thanks to my mother, who kept everyone's mouths full of such delicious food. You can't say mean, terrible things with your mouth full!

Yes, our meal was completely free of vegetables. Sorry, vegans. (And arteries.)

We decided at Thanksgiving to have a Mexican Fiesta for Christmas. I thought it was time we do something different and fun for the kids (read: me). I initially suggested we could have Chinese food and go to the movies like the Jews, but somehow that idea was passed over. (Get it? Passover? Huh?!) 2010 in Jerusalem! But 2009 was all about "Texitaliano," as my niece took to calling it.

My mother made BBQ'd pulled pork (using sauce from Dinosaur BBQ, with stores in two towns close to my heart, Syracuse and Harlem), some kind of cheesy potato bake, I made my famous taco dip, my sister made her famous gnocchi ("Because Mexicans eat pasta, too.") and my brother made meatballs and cannoli. (As in, "Leave the guns, take the cannoli." So true.) Other dessert items included my mother's homemade cheesecake and a Dora pinata filled with chocolates. We even had our own podunk version of sangria: ginger ale and cranberry juice with orange slices, plus a shot of pinot-G for the adults. But the piece-de-resistance were the blue cheese walnut quesadillas with peach salsa. Everyone, and I mean everyone, loved them. And because I love you, here is the recipe, courtesy of good old Betty Crocker. (Here's a tip: let Paul Newman make the salsa.)

My family is filled with a lot of amazing women, including my daughter, and despite the fact that my brother, my sister's boyfriend and my ex were around, a male presence was notably absent. This is the second Christmas we've spent without my Dad, and although this year was much easier than last, things still aren't the same. And that's the point, of course. Holidays were my Dad's milieu; a large gathering of people allowed him to hold court, his booming voice bellowing tall tales. (I can just hear him now. "What the hell does milieu mean? You're friggin' nuts, kid. God damn educated idiots!")

He was never wrong.

Looking over these pictures, I can't help but notice that everyone is dressed in muted colors. Even the pinks are pale. It's a funny coincidence that I'm wearing black and blue, both because the holidays without my Dad are more sober and somber than they were, and because the past year or two (or three) have beaten me up a bit. But I'm wearing my battle scars well. A new haircut, some makeup and new jewelry and it's as if nothing happened. As if.

"But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Hey, ladies!

2009-12-29T11:49:00.004-05:00

Here are few things I find exciting in the world of "Women in Comedy."

Thanks to my friend Erin "Gigglechick" Bennett, web designer to the comedy stars, I discovered that Maria Bamford has dedicated an entire page of her web presence to "Funny Women Who Are Comedians." Further proof of her awesomeness. As if that wasn't already made abundantly clear by the fact that she created a free, downloadable Christmas special for her fans that you can watch here on Punchline Magazine's Vimeo channel. (I'm gonna watch today! Yay!) Thank you to Dylan Gadino for knowing that some of us have computers powered by hamsters held together with duct tape (yes, I taped the hamsters) and are thus unable to do things like "download."

In other news, Anjelah Johnson's one-hour special, "That's How We Do It," aired last night on Comedy Central.

Again, Punchline Magazine has the scoop here with this interview by Emma Kat Richardson wherein she asked Anjelah where she sees herself fitting in with the larger picture of the current comedy landscape. Anjelah's response:

Where do I see myself fitting in? I think I’ve actually managed to pave my own way into doing things totally differently, so I don’t know how exactly I fit in, or maybe it’s something totally different. Especially with the age of YouTube and things like that, people are doing things different nowadays, as opposed to these big headliners who have been doing this for years; they’ve really just been touring forever, doing comedy clubs and colleges and things like that, and working their way up to this headlining place.

Whereas myself, I’ve only been doing comedy for five years, and I have my one-hour special coming out soon, and that’s something I couldn’t have have planned or dreamed of on my own, but it’s the way that things are working out for me. It’s the cards that I’ve been dealt. So, I don’t know exactly how I fit in to this mold that’s already there, or maybe it’s something new. I don’t know.

I think she brings up an essential truth here about the business of show: most of us will not be able to follow some kind of pre-determined path to success. Entertainment is not like law or medicine, not only because it's not nearly as respectable, but also because there are not logical steps one can take or tests one can pass that legitimize a career. I can think of several great examples of people who've struck out on their own, circumventing the "system" and ultimately ending up in the center of it as a result.

My friend Victor Varnado's film "The Awkward Kings" will air on Comedy Central in February. He didn't wait for Viacom execs to approach him; he gathered the equipment, a handful of great comedians (Eric Andre, Hannibal Buress, Marina Franklin and Baron Vaughn) and made a movie. We've heard this story before, with the likes of Juno and Once. But now comedians are proving indie moxie can work outside of Hollywood, too.

There are always excuses readily available about why a career can't work and why it's too hard to live your dreams, but in the end, persevering despite those challenges will be the only thing that sets the men apart from the mice, the women apart from the worms.

Merry Christmas, Baby Jesus!

2009-12-24T12:22:00.004-05:00

Christmas, as we all know, is a time for family. A time for joy and peace and glad tidings. A time to talk to your 12-year-old niece about the birds and the bees in the middle of her mother's birthday party, and a time for your own mother to finally drop the N-bomb in front of your pre-schooler. Yes, Baby Jesus, Happy Birthday to you from the Castiglia Famiglia!

Sustain, a play in one very awkward act.

Carolyn, a fresh-faced young mother with a brilliant new haircut and ample cleavage, sits talking to her niece about school: So is homeroom shorter than the rest of your classes?

Gabriela, a seventh-grader, eating ice cream cake: Our homeroom is basically just "Silent Sustained Reading." I don't even know what sustained means. I don't understand all these big words.

Carolyn: Well, what do you think it means based on the context clues?

Gabriela: I don't know.

Carolyn: It means prolonged. Continuous. Like if you hold out a note, you sustain it. Or if you lift something up in the air, you sustain it.

Mikie, Gabriela's ruggedly-handsome, charmingly bald uncle: No, that's suspend.

Carolyn: Right. Suspend. But you can also use sustain to mean fortify. Something that gives you sustenance.

Mikie: Sustain. It's the opposite of abstain. Do you know what that means?

Gabriela: No.

Mikie: Well, you better learn it.

Carolyn: I know it's awkward to be the only teenager in a family of people willing to talk to you about sex at a birthday party, but you really should wait until you're at least 16. I mean, if you can drive, you can use a stick shift, if you know what I'm sayin', and I hope you don't.

Mikie: I say 18. You should be able to vote before you can pull that lever.

Carolyn: And when you are old enough and in a stable, committed, loving relationship with someone, and you want to have sex, what should you do?

Mikie: Consult a physician.

Carolyn: Use protection.

Gabriela: Did you just say adult supervision?

Carolyn: Well, at least she knows that big word.

***

The Widow and The Divorcee, Ep. 856. "The N Word: I'm Not Dead Yet! A Christmas Meditation."

The Widow: Adriana. It's. Time. To. Get. Dressed.

The Baby: I heard. Every word. You said.

The Widow: Don't treat me like your nigger slave.

The Divorcee: Darling, if you ever say that word again, I will slap you across the face. (The Widow makes the expression of a proper Antebellum Lady in shock.) You know how I feel about that. She has never heard that word before in her life, let's not start on Christmas Eve.

The Widow: Wow. There's nothing wrong with that expression.

The Divorcee: Yes there is! Come on.

The Widow: It doesn't exist anymore. That's a terrible thing. That's all I'm sayin'. Don't treat me like a terrible thing.

The Divorcee: Like this conversation?

Fin

Relationshit

2009-12-22T09:40:00.004-05:00

Adriana stands next to my bed, grunting and squishing up her face as if trying to stop a flood with a pebble. She simply refuses to go poop. On the toilet. But she seems all too willing to soil every pair of underwear she owns.

"Let it out, babe. Your body wants you to let it out."

It never helps to reason with a child, but it's a lot better than getting mad, especially first thing in the morning.

"But I don't want to let it out!" She has a way of squealing that makes me understand why people shudder when they hear fingernails on a chalkboard. And yet, I can relate. How many times in the past ten years have I ignored everything my body was telling me in favor of making it do what I wanted to do? How many times did my ego take control and lead me down a thorny path while my gut was grumbling at me that it knew better?

Going poop is really a lot like being in love. It can be both thrilling and awful, delightful and difficult. There isn't a person on the planet who doesn't adore taking one of those great dumps that makes you feel like you've lost 5 pounds, just as everyone knows the horror of having to lock yourself in the bathroom and essentially cry out your butt. It's not pretty - but it's a learning experience. Slamming tacos covered in hot sauce at 4 in the morning after a night of boozy-woozing seems so right, but is usually wrong.

So how can I fault my little four-year-old for not wanting to experience the pain she fears is coming if she just lets go? Life is messy at times, and our urge to try to control things, to keep them tidy, makes a lot of sense. That is until you realize that all that pressure will eventually lead to an explosion of biblical proportions, whether that means a divorce or in Adriana's case, the insertion of a child-sized enema into her rectum. (Getting divorced pretty much feels like having something shoved up your butt designed to completely empty-out your insides, which means the gays are totally ready for marriage.)

I recently was sent a reminder that just because things can be doesn't necessarily mean they should be. This is a lesson that for 30 years I have quite obstinately avoided learning, and yet one that I expect my daughter to embrace at age four. For her it's about understanding that just because you can stockpile your poo til it hits your esophagus doesn't mean that you should, and for me, it's about accepting that just because you have a few things in common with a person and think that they're cute, it doesn't always follow that something will happen, especially if they are unavailable. (Eek! But being unavailable is so enticing! Because it gives me a chance to see if I am in fact charming enough to make you want to be available. What's that I smell? Disaster pie burning in the oven of reason? Um, yeah.)

I was talking to my friend Asie about relationships (at 4 in the morning after slamming tacos covered in hot sauce) and she said, "As I learn more and more about myself, I just keep meeting better versions of the same retard." That statement is not only hilarious, but also brilliantly true. I mean, biologically, we are wired to be attracted to a certain type of person. So I'm not surprised I liked Mr. No Chance, because he fits all the prerequisites. But I am surprised that I am, in a moment of - what's it called? Adulthood? - allowing myself to just let it go, so that I can meet a better, entirely available version of the same retard.

And so, eventually, my baby too will learn that she has to just let go and not be so darn, well, anal. It may be hard for her, because unfortunately she's just wired that way. But I know she'll learn to overcome her stubbornness, because she's wired to do that, too.

Ars Nova Holiday Party, "Lemme See" Shoot and Our Hit Parade!

2009-12-21T10:00:00.001-05:00

As pre-Holiday weeks go, last week was an awesome one. On December 12th, I got to perform with Shockwave and Soce at the Ars Nova Cast Party. Ars Nova is one of my favorite places in the entire world, and working with them this year has been a thrill and a delight. Here's a collage of some fun pics I took that night:

The next day, Soce, Shawn Hollenbach, Anya Garrett and I shot my next hip-hop symphonic funny timez video jam, "Lemme See," which will have its WORLD PREMIERE at my new monthly comedy event Splurge! at Happy Ending.

Post-shoot glow!

And finally, Wednesday night, December 16th, I had the tremendous fortune to be a part of what TimeOut New York just called the best cabaret show in the city, Our Hit Parade. This was my second time doing the show, and it was incredible. Joe's Pub is a spectacular place, and Bridget Everett, Kenny Mellman and Neal Medlyn curate and perform the shit out of it.

Without further ado, here's my rendition of 2007's Timbaland/One Republic hit, "Apologize," with Shockwave on mouth drums and Kenny Mellman on piano. The lyrics to the rap are by Lil Wayne and Bun B and come from this excellent remix I found on YouTube. Enjoy!

I used to belt this song at the top of my lungs in the car as I drove from the little house we rented in Western New York to the virtually empty room I kept in Weehawken. I agreed to commute to New York from the town my ex works in as a way to save money, since we didn't have any left after the scandal broke and we liquidated the 401K to pay it back. (Ask me how I married a man that didn't live in the same city as me and I'll tell you: it's a long story.) Those of you that saw my solo show know that Harlem was my life, and to be forced to leave it in such an abrupt way was a rude awakening to me. I didn't know how to handle it, so I trudged on as best I could. I'm so thankful that God was listening all those times I cried out in my car, begging for help. It was a thrill and a joy to be able to sing this on the other side of the mountain, after the storm, and in front of such a killer crowd. Special thanks to Nichelle Stephens, Heidi Schmid and Kristen Elde for being there!

Oh hai!

2009-12-18T12:42:00.005-05:00

Oh! Hey there! It's you! The Internet. So nice to see you! You look thinner. I do, too? Well, thanks for noticing. I did tone up a bit, after finishing my 45for45 Challenge. No, I didn't really blog about it because I got super busy. Yeah! I've been up to lots of stuff, including continuing my yoga practice. (Amen.)

Let's see... where to begin? Well, the last time we talked was November 3rd. But there was some stuff that happened before that I wanted to tell you about. So maybe I should treat this as a 4th quarter recap, via photos, natch. A mix of the personal and professional, like my life.

October 12, 2009
Adriana's 4th Birthday
Party Central, USA

(Yes, that is a shout-out to the sketch group of the same name.)

My darling daughter is 4 years old! Isn't she lovely?

October 15, 2009
Guest-hosting for Rachel Kramer Bussel
In the Flesh at Happy Ending

Here's a cute pic of me and some of my favorite comedy peeps, from L to R: Shayna Ferm, Me, Marty Beckerman, Shawn Hollenbach, Margot Leitman, Dan Hirshon, Mindy Raf, Megan Carpentier. "In the Flesh" is an erotic reading series, so in RKB's absence, everyone told funny, sexy stories or sexy, funny stories. It was such a blast. You can check the footage on YouTube here. And here's Shayna Ferm and I closing out the show with a freestyle duet!

Mad love for the fans at Table One, pictured here with Margot and I.

October 17, 2009
How To Be Post-Racial
at Bowery Poetry Club

I took some fabulous pictures of my dear friend Elon James White's show featuring my pals Sara Benincasa, Lizz Winstead, Adrienne Iapalucci, Hassan Madry with special guest Margaret Cho, but they're all on his Facebook account. Instead, I offer you this photo of Maragret and I taken with my camera:

Hero. I saw Margaret at The Apollo a few years back with my Chicks and Giggles co-producer Nichelle Stephens, but there's nothing like seeing a comic you love in an intimate room. Margaret was super funny and lovely.

Sunday, October 18
Out of the Darkness Walk
Chelsea

On Sunday, October 18th I participated in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Out of the Darkness walk in honor of my grandparents. I can still take donations until December 31, so if you'd care to do some holiday giving to an important and under served charity, feel free to contribute $5, $10 or $20 here.

Wet, but happy.

I saw several inspiring people that day, but none so much as the parents with their adorably quirky teen daughter who was walking in honor of having survived her own suicide attempt. There was something truly remarkable about this young girl, braces on her teeth, rainbows all over her clothes, that reminded me about how simultaneously fragile and strong we all are. I think comedy, despite the fact that it often (and sometimes cruelly) makes fun of weakness, is really the essence of strength and fragility combined. It asks you to bear your vulnerability in a fierce way. Tragedy plus time...

October is a lovely month in NYC, and I took some fun arty shots as I walked the streets, too.

1. Houston Street, 2. Canal Street Birds, 3. 5th Street Lizards, 4. Canal Street Bubbles

1. Sunshine, 2. 5th Street Pony, 3. 5th Street Satan, 4. Thai Offering

October 31
Halloween

My little kitty and I made some delicious cupcakes in celebration of the spookiest time of the year. Here's some video footage for Shockwave, who is her biggest fan.

November 8, 2009

Taken on the Lower East Side, after recording my upcoming video release "Lemme See" with Shawn Hollenbach and Soce the Elemental Wizard. I also had the pleasure of performing at the second "Mommy Needs a Cocktail" event, presented by Momasphere. I've met a lot of great women at the first two events, including Faye Rogaski of Social Sklz, a program that teaches these kidz today how to improve their face-to-face communication and manners.

November 14, 2009

Shot DAMN (You Wish) with Tom McCaffrey, Mara Herron, directed/edited by Anya Garrett. Video released November 25, 2009. YouTube chose it as the Comedy Spotlight and it was the number one comedy video in 22 countries on December 3, 2009. In case you haven't seen it, please enjoy it here. Or on the Montreal Comedy Festival's Just for Laughs channel here.

November 25, 2009
...was also...
Thanksgiving Day

Two of my faves from our familial celebration. I have the cutest turkey tot on the block.

December 4, 2009
BEATdown at UCB
Champ.

I beat Chaz Kangas (pictured above in the blue tee), a 23-year-old upstart from NYU who makes a very formidable competitor. Go here and download his 2009 Christmas Rap Megamix for free!

***

I think I'll end my recap here. I'll hit you with another post including pics from the Ars Nova Holiday Party, Our Hit Parade and the "Lemme See" shoot. Video premieres at Splurge! at Happy Ending, January 8th at 8 pm. See you there!

XO,
ckc

45for45 Challenge: Days 31 & 32

2009-11-03T13:53:00.004-05:00

A word on vitality, from Martha Graham:

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. ... No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."

I took Day 31 off. It just seems easier to workout every other day now, both physically and in terms of scheduling. But if I weren't aiming to do every day, I wouldn't be hitting every other day. Besides, my friend Jen Dziura told me that muscles only build while at rest. So there.

I'm so much stronger than I was when I started this project just about a month ago, it's really incredible. It's funny, tho, as my strength is building, my balance is off. I guess you can't have everything all at once, until you suddenly do. It's like mastering stand-up. At first you're so bad you don't even know how bad you are. And then you get better and you can see how far you have to go. I feel so much more vital - both on and off stage - than I did a year ago. Somehow miraculously I continued to perform while grieving for my Dad and watching my marriage unravel, but I was just going through the motions. Looking back, I'm so glad I didn't take a break, despite what I was going through, because the regularity of performing - having something to focus on and look forward to - those are the things that save you in times of trouble.

My friend Adrienne Iapalucci is having a lovely and well-deserved moment in the sun right now, having been chosen as an opening act for the New York Comedy Festival. In this article in the Times, she talks about how she got in a car accident and gained 100 pounds. But look at her, she's gorgeous, she lost all that weight - and her Dad, too. And she never quit. Sometime last year, she saw me at a show and said, "I'm so glad you didn't quit, even tho you have a kid, cuz you're so funny." That really meant a lot to me. I think about it every time I feel like maybe it's time to throw in the towel on the old clowning life.

So, here's to anyone out there, worried that they have to quit pursuing their dreams. Don't quit. Take care of yourself. Get your life right. But don't quit. Keep your heart pure and your eye on the prize. I don't know if you'll get there, and I don't know if I'll get there. I guess it depends on where "there" is. But I know ain't nobody goin' nowhere if they quit tryin'.

Namaste.

Know Your Poo: There's an app for that.

2009-11-02T14:36:00.007-05:00

Today is my friend Chef April Neujean's birthday, and given that she's into all-natural eating, it seems appropriate to embed here a video about poo, in her honor.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EU_0laWeLU&feature=player_embedded

After all, April is the person who told me that healthy adults should poop three times a day. I'm not so sure healthy adults should take their poo to work with them, but to each his own. It's difficult to make a poo at work. Here's to hoping your office has a stand-alone handicapped bathroom! (I mean, anybody who can't drop a much-needed deuce is at a definite handicap.)

And while we're on the subject, here's an actual conversation I had with my daughter just last week about the number 2.

Adriana: Mommy, come here!

Me: What's the matter?

Adriana: I pooped my pants.

Me: No. No! You did not just poop your pants.

Adriana: Yes, I did.

Me: I can't even submit for a theatre festival without you pooping your pants? (I'd like to nominate that sentence as the most ridiculous/worst thing ever said.)

Lather, rinse, repeat. That's right, she number 2'd in her drawers twice in one night. Lesson? Four-year-olds should not eat tuna fish. (YOU'RE WELCOME.)

Disclosure: This video was sent to me by AvatarLabs to promote their iPhone app The Poo Logs based on the book, "What's Your Poo Telling You?" by Josh Richman and Dr. Anish Sheth. They will be sending me a free copy of the book, "What's My Pee Telling Me?" (You know I'm a sucker for rhyme.)

45for45 Challenge: Days 27-30

2009-11-01T22:23:00.003-05:00

Two days off, two days on. But today I raked leaves in addition to doing yoga, so that counts for something, right?

And because I'm tired and don't feel like typing anymore, I'll leave you with this video, which gives new meaning to the phrase downward-facing dog:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouccHJYDP7I

The Widow and The Divorcee, Ep. 547

2009-10-30T19:51:00.005-04:00

Actual conversation I had with my mother after she found a link on Facebook to this article in the New York Post, wherein I talk about having been involved in a threesome.

Widow: What is a menage-a-trois?

Divorcee: If you don't know, I don't want to tell you.

Widow: Oh, I know.

Divorcee: I knew you'd read that article. I come up all the time in your feed. You have like 10 friends and I'm very active on Facebook.

Widow: Yeah, but I hid you.

Divorcee: What?! You HID me?! You have 10 Facebook friends and you hid your daughter???

Widow: Well, you take up too much space. So did you really do that while you were married?

Divorcee: Yes.

Widow: Carolyn, you let your husband have sex with someone else?!

Divorcee: No. No. They did not have intercourse. Although I sort of wish they did because I would have divorced him sooner.

Widow: Who was it?

Divorcee: I can't say.

Widow: Why?

Divorcee: Because I won't.

Widow: Because I know him? Her?

Divorcee: The subject is closed.

Widow: So it was just an idea that you had that didn't really pan out.

Divorcee: Well, I think that's pretty clearly implied in my quote. But I also had another one in high school the first time I got high, if that's any consolation.

Fin

45for45 Challenge: Days 24-26

2009-10-28T22:32:00.004-04:00

I took Monday off. I just felt really tired and busy and blah blah blah. It does feel better to workout after a day off, though, so yesterday was great. Today I was sore going through the poses, but also the discipline of daily practice makes balancing easier for sure. Not only did I do two perfect half-moon poses, I also did two perfect dancer poses.

Yep, that's me, standing at the foot of the ocean in my living room.

I think I'm gonna add up all the days I've taken off (I wanna say 5 so far? But it's probably more like 7... oops) and add them on to the end of the challenge. The challenge after the challenge will be not only to keep the exercise going, but to step it up a notch. Oh, hip-hop class at NYSC, I hear you call my name and it feels like home. Just like a prayer (pose). YOGA JOKES!

45for45 Challenge: Days 21-23

2009-10-25T22:48:00.004-04:00

Yoga, yoga, yoga! Adriana did yoga with me yesterday, and she was ace at it, of course. If you follow my blog, you know she's a natural talent when it comes to dance, so it's no surprise that she'd be able to pick up yoga instantly. She's a major help, too, because I can't get into a full bow pose unless she hands me my left ankle.

Lemme see you do it!

I'm proud to announce that today I did two perfect half-moon poses, one on each side. I held them as long as Eva does on the DVD and didn't even so much as wobble. Psyched!

Without getting too much into the emotional side of things, I'll say that there is one moment on the DVD when Eva talks about feeling like a superhero flying through the air to save someone, and every time she says that I think about how I'm saving myself.

Namaste.

45for45 Challenge: Days 17-20

2009-10-22T23:34:00.004-04:00

I fell off the wagon this week a bit. I was babysitting and taking care of friends and performing non-stop and traveling, what can I say? Today is Day 20 and I just did yoga and it was brilliant. It's kind of nice to rest and then see what your body can do when it's fully recovered. Just a thought.

This is a picture of me taken about 10 days ago or so in (a way over-extended) half-moon pose.

I had to use the 10 second timer on my camera to make this happen, so I got a little excited.

I'm going to bed.

Life is around you and in you.

Namaste.

45for45 Update! Days 11-16

2009-10-18T15:48:00.004-04:00

Things have been a bit hectic the past few days, but I thought I'd let you know that I have been pretty steadfast in my exercise regime. Day 11 I did yoga, Days 12 and 13 were consumed with travel and performance so I was remiss in working out, but Days 14 and 15 I came back strong with yoga and walking, respectively, and today (Day 16) I participated in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Out of the Darkness Walk. I took a few pictures that I'll include in my next post, but suffice it to say, it was a moving, if brief, experience. I'll try to catch up on the hour and a half of exercise I missed - we'll see how things go. I'm only a third finished with this challenge, and I have definitely noticed a difference in my energy level, mood and overall shape. Proof that even a day's worth of good decisions can make a big impact on your life!

45for45 Challenge: Days 8-10

2009-10-11T19:26:00.007-04:00

Saturday, October 10 - DAY 8: Almost skipped. So glad I didn't. My niece was here for a sleepover, so after the childrenz went to bed, I yoga'd up. Arms were very sore, but my balancing poses were the best yet. The girls got some exercise in, too:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/carolyncastiglia/4001547940/

Sunday, October 11 - DAY 9: Tried this goofy Country Line Dance DVD. "These moves just may wrangle you up a cowboy!" So much for women's lib! It felt great to have to follow choreography again, tho. I did the warm-up and the first dance, but the second dance (was it the Barnyard Boogie?) was a little harder and will require some practice, so I decided to power walk the rest of my time out. Had to take a day off from yoga because my arms were killing me! Several family members at Adriana's birthday party asked where my ass went, which is ridiculous, because it was right there in front of them waiting for cake.

Monday, October 12 - DAY 10: I'm almost 1/4 done with this challenge! The first 10 days have flown by pretty easily. I'm really enjoying feeling awake and fit. Not that I feel fit, cuz sometimes I just feel fat, but I certainly feel a lot more engaged than I did 2 weeks ago. NEWS FLASH: Exercise is good for you! It makes you feel healthy! Wow. Why hasn't anyone mentioned this before?

I think I'll go back to yoga today, and maybe try to learn the Barnyard Boogie. I'll see if Adriana can take a picture of me in half-moon pose! We'll see what happens...

The Widow and The Divorcee, Ep. 632

2009-10-09T19:23:00.002-04:00

Divorcee: Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize.

Widow: I saw that.

Divorcee: It's crazy, right?

Widow: Well, he certainly isn't deserving. Who chooses the winner?

Divorcee: The committee.

Widow: Who's on the committee? The NAACP?

Divorcee: You're so racist. I can't believe you just said that.

Widow: I'm not racist. But you know who is? The NAACP.

45for45 Challenge: Days 6 and 7

2009-10-09T13:35:00.002-04:00

I wasn't able to workout til 10 o'clock last night and was too tired to blog about it afterwards. I hate the term "workout," by the way. It feels like it only applies to going to the gym, and only to people whose spandex pants are riding too far up their crotch. But saying "I wasn't able to do yoga til 10 o'clock" makes me sound like a total pussy. (Either way, there's too much pussy involved.)

I actually liked working out late, because I felt like I was really releasing all the cares of the day, and yesterday was pretty stressful. Adriana threw a monster tantrum that ebbed and flowed in intensity, but overall lasted for hours. I'm not sure why she was so cranky yesterday - I think going to school without a nap is just too much for her. She has said on more than one occasion, "I think we should take a nap at school." God love her, as my mother would say.

I'm not sure if it's because I was stressed or if this is all part of releasing my muscle memory (blah blah) but I went to bed so angry last night that as I lay there falling asleep, I had a vision of myself in Warrior Pose just kind of tremoring, like the Hulk, getting bigger and angrier by the second. Instead of panicking I just let it ride out, and eventually the vision exploded and the anger subsided. (Um, orgasm allegory, anyone? Also, why am I being this honest? I have no idea. But it feels like the right thing to do.) People do search and stumble on each other's blogs, and if there's some poor soul out there Googling "divorce, yoga, comedy, motherhood, white rap," well, they'll be lead here and hopefully feel better about themselves after reading about how shitty I've felt. Ha.

But I want to talk about tremoring again for a minute, because today as I worked through all the poses I felt very weak - I mean, very. The kind of weak where all your muscles tremble and you feel like you might throw up. That's probably because I haven't done yoga in 10 years and decided it would be a good idea to do it seven days in a row - but, hey, no pain, no gain and all that.

On (my yoga teacher) Eva's blog, she talks about studying Alexander Technique, and the last time I did yoga was part of the Voice and Movement class I took in college, during which we also studied Alexander Technique. One of our assignments for the class was to write a paper on various other Voice and Movement techniques being taught, and so I chose to cover Fitzmaurice Technique, which starts with "Tremorwork," or the Destructuring of the body and breath. It's similar to yoga in that different positions are used to force the muscles to shake (tremor), but it differs in that there's no spiritual element. Eva doesn't talk about the spiritual aspect of yoga on this DVD, but she doesn't have to. I think the practice of yoga, in simply being truly mindful of your alignment in the poses, effortlessly and automatically leads you to stretch and bend your soul. In stretching and bending your body to the point of tremor, you remember things, maybe painful things that are stored deep within you. But by tremoring, you're shaking them out.

I am shaking them out.

Or, as Rogers and Hammerstein once so charmingly put it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNl5p-TpGPU

That Toddling Town

2009-10-08T14:26:00.006-04:00

Thanks to Facebook and Twitter, I was alerted that my friends in the UK are celebrating National Poetry Day, which inspired me to look up one of my favorite poems. I scrawled this on my wall in sharpie when I was in high school. (I loved myself then.) Re-reading this poem now I can see why I loved it so. I need to read some more Sandburg. And go back to Chicago.

CHICAGO by Carl Sandburg

HOG Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to
kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
faces of women and children I have seen the marks
of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing
so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on
job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the
little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning
as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with
white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young
man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has
never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse.
and under his ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of
Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog
Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with
Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.

***

I moved to Chicago exactly 10 years ago, just after I graduated from college. I only stayed there for half a year, but that may have been the most important six months of my life. I got my first temp job at the newly compounded Morgan Stanley Dean Witter on Madison Street, right across from Marshall Field's. I remember thinking I looked so smart in my polyester blend stretch button-down shirts with the french cuffs as I took the train to the Loop everyday. I have never really been a morning person, but I loved walking to the train as the sun rose, smelling the crisp Chicago air, gazing out the windows of the el as we passed Cabrini-Green and dreaming about what my life would become.

At MSDW, I worked on the retail side (as they say in the biz) for this great gal named Geri who wore sweater dresses and would reminisce about the days when you could smoke in the office. She loved that I was a budding actress, but she thought I might have a mind for business. "Wall Street is just like the theatre, Carolyn," she'd say, "only it's more dramatic." She partnered with this awkward but gentle giant of a man named Mel who gave me tickets to the Opera and took me out to dinner at a German restaurant. One of the famous ones that has since closed. Berghoff maybe? I don't remember. I do know that the food was not nearly as good as everyone had said it would be. German food is always kind of disappointing like that. Spaetzle is yummy, but it's no gnocchi, and creamed spinach is, well, creamed spinach. Everything is always kind of lukewarm, except the sausage, which is good, but nothing without mustard. (It should be noted that Italian sausage is delicious sans condiments.) Looking back, I guess that dinner was Mel's idea of a date, but what did I know? I was 22 and hungry. Free food was fine by me, even if it came with a side of middle-aged loner. He was nice enough, and he certainly didn't try to run his fingers through my Black Forest. (I keep a set of Wusthof knives around to ward off intruders. The Germans are good at weaponry.)

I lived in this stunning, sunny three bedroom apartment on School Street, where my tiny chamber was more of a pantry than proper sleeping quarters, but it had a window and a closet, so I was thrilled. My share of the rent was - get ready for it! - $330/month. I couldn't believe how hard it was to scrape up all that money every 30 days! Three hundred and thirty dollars? But how would I pay for my improv classes? And my $70 weekly grocery habit at Whole Foods?

Now, I am not a food snob by design. I sort of stumbled into overpriced organics, thanks to my best friend Gabe who'd come to Chicago to dance. The modern and jazz scenes were flourishing, and he had no trouble finding companies to perform with, but he did have to find a day job. Whole Foods was a block away from our house (yes, he lived downstairs). His roommate Erika was in lower management there and was able to pull a few (gluten-free licorice) strings. So I would go chat with Gabe while he faced (industry lingo for turning labels to the front) jars of Newman's Own, and end up buying 5 boxes of Amy's Pesto Pizza and a 4-pack of Seventh Generation toilet paper. Yeah, that was about $70, even back at the turn of the century.

A few months into my stay in Chicago, Gabe's wallet was either lost (probably) or stolen (maybe), and a woman by the name of Shaniqua Morganthall (okay, neither Gabe nor I can remember her actual name, so I just went with my ~~porn~~ pen name). Ms. Morganthall used his credit card to buy that classic cocktail of impoverished life, liquor and Pampers. (It should be noted that "Liquor and Pampers" will probably be the title of my memoir.) I distinctly remember Gabe fuming about the fact that, since she obviously didn't know his PIN, the thief was forced to run the card as credit. She didn't even try to pretend Gabriel was a strange spelling of Gabriella - she just signed Shaniqua Morganthall on the dotted line. The cashier must have assumed that after her marriage to Gabe, Shaniqua retained her last name.

The total amount stolen from the account was maybe $60, maybe $100. I forget. But I know that when you're a 22-year-old dancer facing cans for a living, every dollar counts. So Gabe and I took the METRA up to Arlington Heights and walked for miles in the freezing Illinois winter to get to the Meadows Credit Union so they could sort everything out. Meadows is aptly named, because as I recall, we trudged through thigh-high snow drifts to and from the train station, with nothing around us but fields of bitter, biting wind. I bet it's lovely in the Spring, but Arlington Heights in February brought out the worst in me. "Never again, Gabe!" I remember saying. "Never again!"

Gabe and I have since both moved to New York, and now he's got a steady gig on Broadway. I worked on Broadway for a time, too - at (the once again rechristened) Morgan Stanley. I got my first job in New York by walking in and saying, "Hi! I used to work here in Chicago. Where do I sign up?" I wish I had that kind of moxie today. I'd walk into a Broadway theatre and say, "Hi! I used to do musicals before I got married and had my soul accidentally crushed. Where do I sign up?"

Which brings me to the close of my Chicago story... my "Sliding Doors" moment. By the time Spring came, I had friends in Chicago. I started a new job at an architectural development firm (sexy!) with an incredible view of the shoreline. I met a girl there named Erin who was about my age, or just a bit older, actually - enough to be a kind of big sister to me. She introduced me to her boyfriend and they took me out for tapas. (While reading this to yourself, please pronounce that with full Spanish lisp, a la David Sedaris in his recording of Six to Eight Black Men.) I had been doing improv on the weekends and was in a review with Gabe called "So They Can Dance... But Can They Sing?" The show was at Davenport's and was hosted by a fabulous girl named Kimber, who reminded me of our friend Lea from college: brassy, belty and fun. Kimber thought I was great, and when she found out I was skipping town, she tried to get me not to go. I'd thought about it over and over again; stay in Chicago where I was having fun and be forced to end my long-distance relationship in favor of really starting a life of my own - OR - move in with my much older boyfriend who I knew wasn't really right for me but represented security and love.

We all know what I chose. I don't have any regrets about moving in with Mark then. But I do sometimes wonder what would have happened if I'd stayed in the Windy City. My friend Lisa was telling me the other day about String Theory, and how in some realm of existence I am in Chicago, kickin' my heels up at Davenport's as I type. I can't get too heady about String Theory and what it implies, because I have anxiety issues and that's just bonkers. But I can relate on a spiritual level. I have this feeling that the young Carolyn that was so optimistic in Chicago, basking in the sunshine of possibility on a walk to Lincoln Park is still within me. And she's smiling because I've caught back up with my destiny: learning how to live on my own.

Bridging the Racial Divide, One Gchat at a Time

2009-10-08T13:24:00.005-04:00

WARNING! This contains swears! (Of course it does. I was talking with a black man.)

Chat between my friend Elon James White and I. You can catch him live-streaming his Blackness today at 2pm EST. "Blacking it Up Live" - http://twib.me/biu

Elon: yo

me: yo muthafucker
how you livin?

Elon: uncomfortably as usual
are you home

me: yes
what up?

Elon: are you with child?

me: no
ha
bitch you did not just ask me if i was pregnant
i am doing yogfa dammit!

Elon: like with child

me: YOGFA!
haha - i know

Elon: your child
lol
do you have skype?

me: i don't
i'm so sorry
i gots no camera

Elon: how do you talk on your computer?

me: i don't

Elon: i thought youve done that in the past

me: mark had one on his mac
lost it in the divorce

Elon: ah

me: only thing i was sad about

Elon: DAMN DIVORCE

me: why, you need me to check some shit for your show?

Elon: Was gonna have u sub for someone

me: oh - on your live stream thing!
that would be sweet
but some of us are actual ghetto and shit
boogie

Elon: ha
g-voice-chat is ghetto

me: i don't even have a mic, son

Elon: well FOR THE FUTURE
you should have one son.
just in case
i got on CNN cause i had one

me: i know
i need to get a mac
i'ma have to fuck a rich dude

Elon: not a mac
just a headset

me: i see
still
rich dude fucking required

Elon: no you should still go fuck a rich dude

me: hahaha - exactly

Elon: no one is saying you should be above fucking the rich dude
im just saying you could just fuck a dude with stable income
read: non-comedian

me: um
i would never fuck a comedian
i don't even masturbate

Elon: you SAY that

me: that's how committed i am to that

Elon: comedy is incestuous
drunken nights
at a club

me: well i'm certainly not gonna fuck any comics that are related to me

Elon: then a bar
then you wake up with hacky jokes in your bed
or youre in their bed

me: hacky jokes transmit HIV

Elon: or there was no bed and there was a bathroom
YOU JUST DONT KNOW

me: WHY ARE YOU CURSING ME?
what did i tell you onstage that time?
i will cut off your dick!
hahaha
WHEN THE REVOLUTION COMES

45for45 Challenge: Day 5

2009-10-07T19:10:00.004-04:00

I want to design a t-shirt that says:

Yoga makes me feel like a badassana!

Every day I get better at the poses: doing them, holding them longer, lifting a little higher. And unlike other workouts, after doing yoga I feel how I've used muscles in every part of my body. Turns out, you don't have to do cardio and lift weights: yoga is both at the same time. I mean, I do miss hip-hop cardio class at NYSC... but it has been ages and the bitches in that class were fierce when I was 24. How hard would it be for me to keep up now?! I smell a video...

Anyway, doing this yoga workout 5 days in a row has really put me back in touch with my "instrument," which is such a barfy word, and something no self-respecting comic would talk about having or using. But given that I have so much classical training in acting, voice and dance, I'm realizing how valuable it is to open up your rib cage and take a truly deep breath, even if you're only singing in the shower.

Also, I love when Eva says, "Tadasana!" (Mountain pose.) It makes me feel like I did something magical.

45for45 Challenge: Day 4

2009-10-06T15:02:00.004-04:00

I'm in love! With a girl. Her name is Eva Barash. She's my yoga teacher, and she's the nicest lady in the world. She makes my face light up when she talks about my "glorious arm" and she makes me feel like I matter when she tells me to thank myself for practicing today. She's really pretty, too. I hope I can be like her someday.

Yes, I feel like a pre-schooler in love with her first teacher. And I may as well be. Who'd've thunk a frigging yoga DVD would be changing mylife? Um, I did this today:

That may come as no surprise to those of you who knew me in college (Rebekah) when I was a proper dancer, but 10 years later and it's a lot harder than it looks. So what did you all do today? Be sure to check in! Keep up the good work! NAMASTE, mutherf*ckers!

Bitches, I have been ready.

2009-10-06T09:51:00.007-04:00

I can't help but feel a tad bitter about Glamour magazine's new "beautiful at every size" mantra, spawned by the rave reviews they got from men and women alike when they included this picture of model Lizzi Miller in their September issue:

Yes, she's gorgeous. Yes, she has a tummy. But, um, also: a) she's nude and b) she's obviously, like most "plus-sized" models, a tall drink of, if not water, whole milk. Of course people responded positively to this image. It's sexy! It radiates confidence. (Which is, duh, sexy.) But let's face it - printing pictures of tall naked girls, even if they are a size 14, is not exactly groundbreaking feminism in action. Let's not forget that Glamour exists to play on its readers insecurities so its advertisers can sell its readers a bevy of beauty products. It's just that now they're inviting fat girls to the party. And why not? Big girls have money, too!

Showing images of "real women" in its pages is in Glamour's best interest, because it just opens up their subscriber base. Glamour's target market has always been (somewhat affluent) 18 to 34-year-old women in metropolitan areas. Sure, they occasionally run "Be fabulous at 40!" features, but 45-year-old Irene Jones in Des Moines is not buying Dolce & Gabbana, and Conde Nast knows it. Even in Manhattan, the 35 and older set is a bit beyond Glamour's reach. (Perhaps by then it's time to move on to Vogue, or Vanity Fair, if you're a thinker.) I remember sitting in the waiting room at my OBGYN when I was 8 months pregnant, reading a copy of Glamour I'd brought with me to the appointment. When the doctor came out to get me, she said, "You still read Glamour? Oh, God. That'll change soon enough." Like any indignant young girl, I thought, "But I'm still gonna be cool after I have a baby." For the first year, maybe. But two years of pre-school and a divorce later, I'm here to say, I know exactly what you mean, doc.

What is not in Glamour's best interest, however, is telling "real women," or un-real women for that matter, that they are whole, beautiful people in their natural state, sans hair products, makeup and clothing. Glamour sells hair products, makeup and clothing. The entire magazine is advertainment/infotising. I don't necessarily have a problem with that, I just hate to see a wolf in sheep's clothing. Glamour's self-congratulatory attitude about the whole thing is just a bit much. It's like the skinny, perfect, popular girl who feels like a humanitarian for inviting the dorky, chubby girl to her sleepover. "Ugly girl at the sleepover, check. Next stop, world peace!"

That being said, I did buy the November issue, "in support of the cause." The attached article has some interesting quotes in it, including this one by assistant editor Margarita Bertsos.

"Being told that I must occupy Barbie proportions in order to be beautiful is definitely not what motivated me to lose weight. In fact, those beliefs are what kept me obese for so many years. It's when I made the shift toward self-acceptance that I finally found the motivation to lose weight."

Now, before visions of Mo'Nique start filling your brain, let me say I am not against thin women, nor being fit. If you follow my blog, you know that I just started a 45for45 challenge, during which I will exercise 45 minutes a day for 45 consecutive days. The idea of being truly strong again is really exciting to me. But I have no desire to be "skinny." I never have. I delight in being curvy, which is why Glamour's sudden acceptance of Rubenesque broads rubs me the wrong way. Three years ago, I was fired from Glamour's Would You Dare shoot for being too fat. So just like the nerdy girl at the sleepover, I'll eat your popcorn, Glamour, but I'll never forget the time you pushed me in the hallway at school.

45for45 Challenge: Days 1-3

2009-10-05T12:59:00.006-04:00

Okay, okay... you remember my 30for30 challenge. It was sort of a bust in the exercise department (my pals Anne Altman and Anya Garrett did much better than I), but it did get me to quit smoking! And get in control of my divorce-induced booze habit. Well, now I'm doing 45for45. You heard me! 45 minutes of exercise a day for 45 days. Not sure if I'll blog it everyday, but I will probably update daily on Facebook.

I've been flirting with the idea of 45for45 for a week or so now, and it just kind of happened inadvertently. My awesome friend Mandy Stadtmiller gave me this yoga DVD, and I turned it on Saturday after not having done yoga in 10 years. After doing it I felt like a champ. Yoga'd up yesterday, too (with my 58-year-old mother!) and feel addicted. (Speaking of addictions, this time I'm not gonna give up the sauce. After all, I'll be thirsty after 45 minutes of glorious sweating.)

Okay - today is Day 3 and off I go! Wish me luck!

p.s. - Looks like my college pal Rebekah Henderson will join me! Whee! Let's do this.

Fabulous

2009-10-04T21:37:00.009-04:00

Adriana: There's somethin' weird goin' on with my pee-pee right now.

Me: What is it?

Adriana: The pee only comes out when I'm wearin' clothes.

I had to laugh. I mean, first of all, kids are hilarious. They just are. They phrase things so brilliantly. They're so unencumbered by stress. I love talking to Adriana, not just because I love her, but because I find her fascinating. Yesterday she asked, "Where'd you get that belt?"

Me: It goes to another pair of pants.

Adriana: Well, it looks good with those pants.

Me: You think so?

Adriana: Yeah.

Me: Thanks.

Adriana: Soon, I'm gonna have a belt.

Me: Yeah, you can have a belt. When I go shopping for your winter clothes, you can get a belt.

Adriana: Well then it'll be a winter belt. So it has to be white.

Me: Yes, winter white is a nice color.

Adriana: Then I have to get a white jacket.

Me: Wouldn't you love to have a white fur coat? (Editor's note: But not a real fur coat, that's cruel.)

Adriana: Yeah, that's what I - well, actually, it can't be too expensive.

I wasn't sure what to say. I was reminded of the trip we took last fall to Ithaca to watch my friends Margot and Dan get married. Adriana was the flower girl. The weekend was perfect - the weather, the place we stayed, the wedding. But something was off between my ex and I, as it had been for ages. Saturday morning we had some hours to kill before the ceremony, so we headed downtown to have breakfast and browse a second-hand children's boutique. Adriana would need a winter coat shortly, and I thought why not buy something high-end that's already been worn but is in good condition instead of buying a brand new coat for the same amount at Wal*Mart? I hated supporting Wal*Mart. My ex bought all the groceries there, because it was cheaper than the supermarket. After a while, the thought of it made my skin crawl. So I began to pick through the racks at the consignment shop and came across this darling pink fur coat, just Adriana's size. She tried it on and it fit perfectly. I think it cost about $20. She loved it and asked if she could have it, so I told her to ask her father. He told her it was too expensive.

"But Daddy," she said. "I look FABULOUS!"

Some mothers nearby giggled and smiled. I laughed, too. My precocious little 2-year-old knew exactly how adorable she felt in that coat. She hadn't even seen herself in a mirror. Still, her father said no. We settled on a practical purple number with a furry hood that came in at $12. She looked just as sweet in it and it worked for both dress and play. But if all it costs is $8 to go from functional to fabulous, I've got that to spare.

When couples fight about money, it's not really about the money. It's about control. It's about trust. It's about not being on the same page philosophically. And, ok, it's a little bit about the money. No one likes to be stressed about money. But I'm convinced that if you have a good relationship with someone, you can be broke and happy.

Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know. But I do know that next week, for her 4th birthday, Adriana's getting 3 belts. I just bought them, and they're all fabulous.

Creation

2009-09-24T16:41:00.006-04:00

Adriana has asked me several times as of late about the origin of life. Not so much in a birds-and-the-bees kind of way, but more in a "Why am I a cognizant being and where did this existence come from?" kind of way. (Frankly, these grand philosophical quandaries make discussing the differences between "boy pee-pees" and "girl pee-pees" seem like cake.) I talk freely about God when He/She/It comes up, but I haven't yet made it a point to school Adriana in any certain religious tradition, mainly because, you know, religion is complicated. She attends UU services when she's at her father's house, and she has been to Catholic mass with my mother. But who knows? By the time she's old enough to make her First Penance maybe I'll finally be Jewish by remarriage. That notwithstanding, I bit the bullet today and answered the pressing question:

How do they make persons?

The first time she asked me that, I told her that people make people, that a Mommy and a Daddy have a baby and life continues on. But I knew that's not what she wanted to know. So today I answered her real question with a question.

Adriana: How do they make persons?

Me: Who's they?

Adriana: (pause) Well, the company.

Me: People make companies, companies don't make people. (Editor's note: I mean, let's not get all Orwellian here, right?)

Adriana: Well, how do they make people?

Me: You want to know where people come from? (deep swallow) People have evolved. We've evolved from apes.

***

Now, I have no problem with (accept) the story (theory) of evolution, but I have to tell you, hearing myself explain to my own small child that we evolved from apes sounded as ridiculous/miraculous/impossible/amazing/magical as anything Jesus ever did. And that's the point, isn't it? That life, by its very nature, is inherently mystical and therefore divine, whether you try to explain it through religion or science or both. I understand that lots of my friends are at best agnostic, if not down-right atheist, and I am as critical of Right-Wing Conservative Christians as the next Pinko Commie Liberal. But I think it's as foolish to deny God in the broad sense as it is to deny evolution. In fact, that's why I think American cinemas should be pushing to show this new Darwin movie, Creation, because in it he struggles with the way his scientific ideas inform and change his spiritual foundation. I promised myself, and I suppose God, as life as I knew it crumbled - for a second time - while I was mourning the death of my father and watching my marriage dissolve, that I wouldn't use him (for lack of a better word) only when I needed him, but rep him at all times in all things, and I'm happy to say that publicly, because without that God, that Good, I wouldn't be halfway to where I am today, which is a lot happier than I was before. (Sorry for the run-on sentence. Maybe I should pray for more sophisticated writing skills.)

But where was I?

Me: You want to know where people come from? (deep swallow) People have evolved. We've evolved from apes.

Adriana: What are apes?

Me: Like gorillas.

Adriana: We're like gorillas, but bigger?

Me: Smarter. We can talk. Our brains are a little more developed. Humans are part of the Universe, and God made the Universe. God's not a person, though. He's... a spirit. He's goodness. He's the spirit in everything.

Adriana: Well, he got like that from being on the cross.

Me: That's Jesus. Jesus is like God. Jesus is the Son of God. He brings us closer to God.

At this point I'm sweating, thinking, do I explain the trinity and transfiguration and then sort of de-bunk them with loving kindness by saying these are concepts Catholics use to illustrate their faith that are not necessarily definitive truth but ritual theatre that brings us closer to the divine? I mean, WWJD? But thankfully, by then she'd heard enough. Which is good, because I'm not sure how much longer I could continue to or how much more in-depth I could explain my own brand of Cathippiesm to a nearly 4-year-old without really having to break shit down. Eventually we'll have to have a musical theatre marathon of Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell and she can figure it out from there.

Studying evolution via play dough.

Why I Still Love Obama

2009-09-23T13:16:00.004-04:00

It's so nice to hear an American president talking about ALL NATIONS letting go of their nuclear weapons, not just some "Axis of Evil" or the perceived "bad guys."

You know that commercial running now for Ally Bank where the suit asks a little girl if she wants a pony, gives her a plastic toy, then asks the other kid if she wants a pony and gives her a real horse? It ends in a voice-over that says, "Even kids know it's wrong to hold-out on somebody." That's the thing with nukes and the child-men who are obsessed with them: why would (and frankly, should) Ahmadinejad give up his guns if we won't do the same? I mean, we all know "Do as I say and not as I do" doesn't work when it comes to parenting, so why should it work on the world stage?

Not to be such a dirty, feminist hippie about it, but, um:

I grew up in a town with a nuclear power plant (as I have mentioned before). And the locals for the most part are thrilled about it, because it provides a lot of jobs and a strong tax base, which in turn helps fund the schools. I understand that. But what I don't understand is why people are so opposed to wind energy (did I mention that I put Shepard Fairey's windmill sticker on the back of my environmentally-friendly car?). Sure, wind energy alone is not going to power America, but it's better than "clean coal." (Believing in clean coal, by the way, is like smoking American Spirits because you think you'll be less likely to get lung cancer. Ooh, that one cuts close to home... but it's true.) All I'm sayin' is, wind doesn't have to be buried in a mountain or have the potential to meltdown.

And so, to close, the Queen of the hippie feminists, Mr. Ani Difranco, with her ode to The Atom:

the glory of the atom
begs a reverent word
the primary design
of the whole universe
yes, let us sing its praises
let us bow our heads in prayer
at the magnificent consciousness
incarnate there

the smallest unit of matter
with its orbiting electrons
echoing off the solar system
like a hawk in the hills at dawn
the smallest unit of matter
uniting bird and rock and tree
and you and me

oh holy is the atom
the truly intelligent design
to which all of evolution
is graciously aligned
one single structure
to which everything distills
the air
the wood smoke there
and the hills

leave me here surrounded
to everything that's real
far outside the boundaries
of the digitized ordeal
leave me here awake
leave me here to heal

human beings are a cross
between monkeys and ants
you can see us from your spaceship
melting the polar ice caps
with our arrogance
summon a congress of angels
dressed in riot gear
we've got ourselves a serious situation
down here

i have this great great uncle
who worked on the atomic bomb
he got a nobel prize in physics
and a place in song
and i bet there were no windows
and no women in the room
when they applied themselves
to the pure science of
boom

yes, messing with the atom
is the highest form of blasphemy
whether you are making weapons
or simple electricity
someone fashion me a pulpit
i have been called to engage
with the maniacal heretics
of the nuclear age!

let the religious get religion
let consumers get a clue
let scientists get perspective
let activists get their due
let industry get a conscience
let the earth inherit the meek
let the divinity of nature speak

the glory of the atom
begs a reverent word
the primary design
of the whole universe
yes, let us sing its praises
let us bow our heads in prayer
at the magnificent consciousness
incarnate there

Back-to-School: Dinosaurs and Indians

2009-09-22T22:21:00.007-04:00

Adriana often asks if the things she sees on TV are "alive," as opposed to asking if they're "real." Today she said, "Are there any alive Indians?" So I asked, "Indians like Pocahontas?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, there are, but they don't really live like that anymore. Some of them live on reservations where their land originally was, and they maintain some of their traditions, but they live like we do, too."

She thought for a second and said, "The Indians were alive with the dinosaurs."

I of course explained that they weren't, and that there were no people alive with the dinosaurs, but that there were cavemen who lived a long time ago. It's funny to watch her make sense of the information she's gleaning from books and TV, especially because a lot of what she's seeing isn't anthropologically sound. For example, Pocahontas did help John Smith (although apparently Historians question that now, too) but she probably didn't have a rack like she does in the Disney cartoon, and she definitely didn't run around singing Vanessa Williams hits. (No disrespect, Vanessa, but why Disney didn't release the Judy Kuhn version of Colors of the Wind I have no idea, because as I told Adriana the other day, "She's the best in the business.")

It makes sense that Adriana's found a way to combine Pocahontas (her current favorite Disney film) with dinosaurs, because her favorite television show is called Dinosaur Train, a new fall offering on PBS that combines three things that children love: dinosaurs, trains and... time travel? Sure, why not?!

If dinosaurs can talk (and they speak English, naturally) and take a train, that train can totally enter a time-warp tunnel that drops said dinosaurs off to whichever Mesozoic period they choose. The lead characters, Mr. and Mrs. Pteranodon, live in the Cretaceous period and are blessed with 4 children, one of whom (in a nod perhaps to modern-day adoption?) is a Tyrannosaurus Rex. One can only assume, despite being raised by a loving family of fish-eating reptiles, Buddy (and honestly, what else would you name something as cuddly as a T-Rex?) will in future episodes discover his true meat-eating dinosaur nature and be forced to devour his family in their sleep. It's like Dexter meets The Flintstones. You know, classic children's fare.

Yes, all kids love dinosaurs, and at Adriana's school, there are rubber dinosaurs for the students to play with and dinosaur cut-outs with each child's symbol on them, to be placed in a basket upon arrival, which lets the teacher know you're in attendance. Here's Adriana on the first day, looking not at all ferocious in her Hello Kitty shrug dress, another of her latest obsessions.

My little dino-loving princess.

Suicide: It's Trendy!

2009-09-10T17:28:00.007-04:00

I just learned on Twitter that it's World Suicide Prevention Day (why didn't Google dedicate an illustration to that?), thanks in large part to RT's of Pete Wentz, who is no doubt in mourning over his friend DJ AM. Twitter, in interest of brevity, one assumes, listed the trending topic simply as World Suicide, which has needless to say been the butt of more than a few 140 character jokes.

Couple things:

1) I saw a prominent blogger crack a joke about DJ AM's death the day after it happened. Let's not even begin to discuss MJ. #toosoon

2) I think the fact that death - especially tragic death - has become so trivialized is apocalyptic and sad.

3) That being said, my Grandparents committed euthanasia via shotgun 14 years ago this month, so me cracking wise about suicide is like Kanye rhyming UK with you, K - it just makes sense.

So, what I didn't Tweet earlier, lest it be misconstrued without that background info:

"If my Grandparents hadn't killed themselves, I wouldn't be celebrating World Suicide Prevention Day alone! #YouCan'tHandleTheTruth"

All ~~coping mechanisms~~ jokes aside, Suicide Prevention really is an important cause - I can think of several people I know personally who have been affected by suicide (and not just the dead ones). As my mother said recently, "I think more people push their own buttons than you'd realize." So, seriously, keep the warning signs on your mind.

And also, I'd love it if you cared to sponsor me in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Manhattan Walk, taking place on October 18, 2009. Click here to view my donation page.

Thank you! Goodnight.

Why Can't We See Our Brains?

2009-09-08T13:48:00.002-04:00

Adriana and I were sitting at the table, eating lunch the way civilized ladies should, when suddenly she commented on the spinach/broccoli/chicken bake she refused to eat the night before.

"It IS good! Is this seaweed?"

No, it's not seaweed, I said. Though people do eat seaweed. "Is seaweed good for you?" Yes, I assured her.

"Why can't we see our brains?" she wondered. "Cuz they're inside our heads," I said.

"When I was a little baby and I lived inside your tummy I could see your bones."**

"Oh yeah?" I retorted.

"Yeah, then I came out your pee-pee."*

Just two civilized ladies, chatting over lunch.

*Not true.
**Also probably not true.

Edinburgh Days 22-26

2009-08-30T17:37:00.009-04:00

This is it. My last post about Edinburgh. I'm joining you from a cafe table at JFK as I wait for my connecting flight to pick up Adriana. I feel great.

Going through my photos just now, I see I missed a picture from the eve of the 24th. I forgot - I was so drunk, I actually met up with Katie and Leah and Ross at the urban garden and made some new friends. This is Tom and his girlfriend (whose name escapes my champagne-soaked brain!) and Jen Pearson, a New Yorker! Yay! We girl bonded that night. Especially Tom and I.

Okay. Now onto Day 22!

Day 22 - Tuesday, August 25

Ross and I had a fun show at The Grape, and some of our audience members decided to take us out for beer. (Well, take me out for beer. That's the advantage of being a lady in the UK, I guess. You still get to drink even when you're broke.) We first headed over to Standing Room, which is an enormous bar that sort of looks like a study/drawing room, and then back to Greemantle, which is definitely my favorite out of the way pub in the 'burgh.

From left: Paul, Adam and Ross from Sunken Luggage, Brian? Dan? shit, what was his name and Sam. Sam is a ginger half-pint about the size of my sister Maria, yet she can drink me (and probably a lot of guys) under the table. Awesome. I ordered haggis (below) and she ate most of it. A girl after my own heart.

Okay - so here's the deal with haggis. It's good! Well, it's not bad. It tastes like perfectly spiced baby poop. (Here's my pal Christina Dunham's take on haggis, as animated by Scott Bateman.) The bartender had me pour a shot of whiskey over the plate, which would have been especially awesome if we lit it on fire afterwards.

Day 23 - Wednesday, August 26

I had the pleasure of performing on the riotous (and very well-attended) PBH and Some Comedians again on Wednesday, which garnered me an excellent review. ("New Yorker Carolyn Castiglia was the funniest female comedian I've seen at the Fringe.") I'm certainly grateful for the praise, but again, I feel it bears repeating that women working the comedy scene in the UK are fighting against stereotypes that as far as I can tell don't represent reality. But more on women's issues in a bit... (I have to go change my tampon).

PBH put together another super-fun lineup, including Aussie John Robertson, who reminds me a lot of Christian Finnegan. It's not just that they have a similar look, but they both have a style that's silly with a slightly psychotic undertone. Devilish is probably a better word than psychotic, but I'm a sucker for alliteration.

John onstage at The Canon's Gait with his uke.

After the show with Yianni, John and Jo - and John's kitty puppet! Kitties consistently provided good times in Edinburgh.

Day 24 - Thursday, August 27

I didn't take any pictures Thursday, and therefore I can't really remember what happened, but my Facebook status update from that night probably says it all:

"I am the kind of girl who turns down blatant offers of sex with strangers because I believe in "romance" and "love" and other stupid potentially nonexistent bullshit and then ends up listening to Dave Matthews for a week to try to... make up for that mistake. Oh please, lover lay down."

That's in reference to the "incident" that happened at Priscilla's, the gay bar in Leith, where I got hounded by the only straight man in the room. You know, he was cute, and I would have done it, but he just came on too strong. Ross and I decided it's much better to cuddle and watch a film than have a one night stand with a stranger. "It's really just a glorified wank, innit?," he said. I suppose that's it. I did end up getting kissed by some random guy Friday night at The Grape, so, like Billy Shakes once rhymed, all's well that ends well.

Day 25 - Friday, August 28

I walked around town taking some more touristy shots, so I could really remember what the place feels like after I got home. Edinburgh is so, so, so wonderful. It's not grandiose like Paris, and it's not lopsided and full of energy like Amsterdam, but it is one of the most lovely places I have ever been.

View from beneath the Scott Monument.

Sir Walter Scott.

I call this, "The Seagull." They're all over town!

National Museum, with colors flying.

This makes comedy look respectable.

Some shots from the shops along Princes Street:

I saw 42G and thought, "What is that?!" Then I realized they're talking bra sizes. But still - imagine this in a 42G??

p.s. - I love the reflection of my flip-flops in the first shot. One night onstage I said, "Wearing flip-flops in Edinburgh is a great way to catch AIDS." It's so true. I only wore them twice the entire month. I think my toes have the plague. Either that or they need a shave.

If I ever get married again, this is what I want it to look like. A handsome man in a kilt next to me... without a head. CUZ I'D HAVE TO HAVE LOST MY HEAD TO WANT TO GET MARRIED AGAIN, RIGHT? Right? (Gunshot.) I make such a lovely bride.

The sign I really wanted a photo of simply says, "Priorities Changed Ahead." I passed it on the bus everyday, but could never seem to find it on foot.

St. Andrew's Square.

Day 26 - Saturday, August 29

After my show, I strolled through town, soaking up as much as I could. I found this quote on the side of a building and think it perfectly captures the essence of my time in Edinburgh:

"City of everywhere, broken necklace in the sun. You are caves of guilt, you are pinnacles of jubilation." The dappled light on the foliage of Princes Street Gardens, the glow of the sun on the old castle walls. The partying and indulgences, and the glee the combination of work and play brings. The literal meaning of the caves, the ones that used to hold plague victims and are now housing comedy shows. The beauty of beautiful people and the magic a conference like this holds.

These are everywhere because of the construction around town, and I really wanted a picture of me posing like a muscle man next to one, but oh well, I was alone, so I took this, and it makes me laugh.

The beautiful Balmoral Hotel at dusk.

I went to see Kurt Braunholer and Kristen Schaal that night at the giant Assembly on The Mound. Their show was a delight. A few shots I took outside:

Neat-o Celtic gobo making shadow art on the walls.

Assembly box office.

Twilight on The Mound.

I walked down the Playfair Steps one last time and paused by the museum to tie my shoe. A woman came up behind me and said, "Boy, I really enjoyed your comedy tonight!" I was so surprised to be "recognized" on the street, but she was very sweet and it made me feel like I had touched some people while I was there, which is ultimately why I do what I do. So more people will let me touch them.

I got down to Princes Street just before midnight in time to see the final fireworks display of the final Military Tattoo. These videos do not capture the sight, but they do sort of capture how I feel about my new favorite summer camp.

If you're reading this on Facebook, click here and here.

When the smoke cleared, nothing but the North Star shone over the castle. Right before I left for Scotland 4 weeks ago, I thought to myself, "You know you've gotten jaded when you look up in the sky at the brightest star and think, 'Eh, it's probably just a satellite.'" Last night, I'm pretty convinced, I saw a star.

I continued home via Princes Street, and had to take a shot of these Carling shirts, in honor of all the pints of Carling (and Deuchars and Tennent's) I drank during my stay.

And then, just as Princes turns into West Maitland, right before Mercat Bar (my solo show venue) and our little flat in Roseburn, I saw this on the ground. It's Stephen K. Amos's Broken Dream!

Proving once and for all, comedy is not pretty, even for those famous for it. But it sure is a hell of a lot of fun.