A very un-Aussie Christmas

Latest column is here. It's about having a very un-Aussie Christmas. I've gotta think of a better way to introduce these things...

In other news, have had the most gloriously awesome day with the little tikes today. While Tim's been flat out (as in on his back feeling sick), the kids and I hit the hot springs in Banff - one word: HEAVEN - and then took a ride up in the Gondola to the top of the mountain. It was awesome, well, actually, it made me remember how much I HATE heights as I spent most of the 15 minute ride up trying to keep my external cool for the kids' sake while turning my internal pants 48 shades of brown.

But the views were mind-boggling. And if that ain't worth stained psychological undergarments, then I don't know what is. I think.

Two new things squeezed in before the New Year...

1. Snowboarding. I actually - after a series of rather uncomfortable (translation = painful) jolts to the system - mustered up enough balance to board an entire mountain (translation = ski slope) without falling down. I'm the Queen of the World!!!!!!! Who needs a jacuzzi.

2. Jimmy Dean flicks. Inspired by my book-in-hand-of-themoment 'The Film Club' (translation = a very considerate Chrissie present from the hubbster), I finally got around to checking out 'East of Eden' tonight. Apparently Dennis Hopper cites James Dean as his favourite actor of all time. And now I know why.

On a sidenote, is it wrong to have a crush on someone who's been dead for more than several decades?

On starting out in comedy

Okay, so I promised a few posts ago I was gonna write some thoughts on starting out in comedy inspired by Brody's ball-growing musings on Get Your Free Cone, such as:

Just as I feared, it’s going to take a lot of time and lot of pain to get good. The stage is still alien to me. It’s frightening and I’m pretty sure it want’s to jump on my face and lay eggs in my throat. I’m scared. Please hold me.

Sounds pretty much smack bang on the mark. It does take both pain and time to get good, the question is whether you actually want it badly enough to bother going through the whole ordeal! My first experience of stand-up land came a few months after finally mustering up the effort/guts/insert-descriptor-here to start performing at a weekly improv night. It certainly wasn't the best show in the world, it certainly didn't draw the best crowds in the world...BUT I got the thrill of finally being onstage again, two free bears and a T-bone steak each week, plus most importantly of all: the confidence that at least a couple of people out there found me at least mildly amusing.

It was armed with this nieve confidence that I rang up and registered for a stand-up comedy competition I'd seen advertised - all without a scrap of material written. But the point was, I knew that with a deadline, I would have to come up with something. I took to the guitar for the first time in years - anyone who's seen me perform will attest to the fact that I am gloriously hopeless when it comes to guitar playing - figuring that at least with some musical tid-bits, even if people weren't laughing they might at least listen. Plus it would be a good shield from tomatoes.

My first time on-stage was scary, for sure. What was probably scarier though, was doing regular gigs not too long after that in a tiny little bar whose regular customers comprised a posse of construction workers who were drinking from 3 in the afternoon thanks to the drawcard of topless waitresses. By the time we got onstage at 8, they were...well, you get the idea. But...as stressful and painful as those gigs were, in hindsight they were the best thing that ever happened. Because they built my comedy muscle. Because I knew after those nights that I can deal with hecklers and not be scared. And because, as the adage goes, you do learn the most from the worst gigs. Not that I like to have a bad gig given the choice, but you do seem to reassess your set and look at what went wrong and how you can get better for next time, rather than the half minute back-slapping that comes from a good one.

Is this even making sense?

I guess my point is, that yes, comedy is painful. But that's good because there's already so many people trying it that I guess the pain factor weeds out those who really want it and those who can't be bothered going through the whole shebang. But once you've been bitten and there's no turning back...I think the pain is actually good for you.

Unless you start smashing yourself over the head with Sumo wrestlers. That is bad and should be highly discouraged.

PS A very interesting article on the nature of humour if you're keen.

Merry Christmas y'all!!!!

See what Canada has done to us already?

Merry Christmas. xox

Women funny - the saga continues!

Okay, if you really are interested in the whole 'women being funny' issue, you have to have to have to check out this.

Wow, is this link week or what?

Men funnier than women?

Now, I don't really want to go opening this can of worms - I hate both cans and worms - but I just stumbled across this little 'study', the instigator of which believes that humour stems from aggression caused by testosterone. Ergo, he jumped on his unicycle (and no, I'm not speaking metaphorically) to prove his point.

Uh...I genuinely am curious to hear your thoughts on this. Couldn't his findings (that most women who saw him shouted words of encouragement while most guys shouted snide remarks or put-downs) just mean that women - and yes, I'm generalising, but that seems the gist of the study - have a kneejerk reaction to encourage, while men have a kneejerk reaction to mock?

And another question - even if you consider this mocking 'funny', does a quantity of reactions necessarily equate to a quality? I don't know about you, but I can think of quite a few people I've met in my life who may crack jokes all the time...without necessarily hitting the funny bone.

Thoughts?

New Years Resolutions

I do apologise for the slack entries of late, I've been crazily caught up in the silly season. In the meantime, do enjoy - or in the absence of enjoyment, ''read' will suffice - my latest delirium-riddled column. It's on New Years Resolutions. One of which will be to come up with original column topics.

Ehem.

Pass the eggnog.

Check out this blog - it's one of my new faves. The latest couple of posts have inspired some very long-winded responses to starting out in comedy, which I will shortly post to this very blog. So thanks Brody!

For now though, I'm having a little writing break today. Due to Christmas holidays and the like, my editor required me to submit my ramblings - ideally complete with wit, wisdom and (shock! horror!) coherence - not only four days earlier than usual but in the form of not one but TWO columns in the one hit. Hence, I was up til two this morning banging my head on the desk and boy did it hurt.

I'll post the column here once it's published. But be warned ye readers - I highly doubt that any of it will even make sense. But on the bright side, you will get to see what my brain looks like spilled out onto the page in the early morning stages of deadline-driven delerium.

I ain't saying it'll be pretty, but it'll be something.

Jamie Lynn Spears: mamma mia.

Oh boy. I don't even want to get into the pop culture element of this whole debacle. All I can say is that now, two kids into my life, whenever I see ANYBODY pregnant with their first child - whether they're 16, 29 or 43, there is a part of me thinking 'Wow, oh wow. You have absolutely no idea what you're in for.'

Because I didn't. Nobody does. No matter how many books you read, stories you hear and people you talk to, at the end of the day, absolutely NOTHING prepares you for parenthood. Nothing.

The difference with seeing a 16 year old get up the duff - regardless of who she is or how famous her family might be - is that my thoughts move on to: 'Wow, oh wow. One hundred per cent of your post-child life (spot the irony?) is going to be about kids...and you have absolutely no idea what you're in for.'

I'm tired just thinking about it.

Mel Brooks: What I've Learned

Just thought I'd share with you this interesting little snippet on Mel Brooks from Esquire, which I just stumbled upon.

I particularly like the part about comedy not being frivolous, that it needs to have heart. I'm paraphrasing, of course, but when I think about my favourite comedies, it's true - there's something deeper going on than just 'wacka wacka' type stuff. Buffy, Muriel's Wedding, Kung Fu Hustle, I could go on for a while here...even Spaceballs, which at the time, I thought was the funniest thing on the planet - no pun intended - a big part of the appeal was, I guess, heart-type stuff, in that case, a real belief in the chemistry between Bill Pullman and Daphne Zuniga. Oh and John Candy was just so damn cute.

Anyway, I've just realised I'm starting off my morning by psychoanalysing Spaceballs, so I guess the day is gonna be all downhill from here.

Need. More. Coffee.

Of Mice and Music.

Sorry for the massive gap between entries - it's been what? Two whole days? Anyhoo, my excuse note goes a little something like this:

1) Our mouse decided to curl up in a tiny little corner of the computer and die. On the downside, this means we've been completely disconnected from computah land. On the upside, it's the kinda dead mouse that doesn't smell.

2) I've been using the extra time to embark on a mad and torrid affair with my keyboard (the musical one). Man oh man. I'm elated and exhausted all at once.

Excuse me while I go give it another dry-hump.

New links: finally!!

Forgot to mention I've also updated my links list, which now includes - in addition to my wonderful new cyber-buddy Miss Understood - some really wicked blogs revolving around comedy and writing respectively. So if you get that loving feeling, check em out!!

Latest column: Confessions of an Ice Queen

Oh the joys of ice skating.

In other news, thank heavens it's the weekend! We've got a mad one planned, mainly comprising social engagements and fun/tantrum-inducing Christmasy stuff with the kiddlies. Yay!

Plus I feel like this week I've FINALLY cracked the critical balance of friends in this town to make me feel actually loved here. Translation = able to walk down the street and bump into at least one person I know. (I know, I know, I'm sure given enough time that will become annoying, but for now: oh sweet friends. Go forth and multiply! Not literally. That would just be weird and mildly uncomfortable.)

So today: down to the local playroom for me and the kids, then we're baking Christmas tree cookies (yes, ME...BAKING...what is this country doing to me?) and are all off to a Christmas party for the afternoon.

O Canada, O Canada...

(I'd sing more but that's all I know. Sozzoms).

Permanent things are freaky.

I've been thinking of getting a new tattoo. And having another baby. It would seem they're both as addictive as the other.

Sigh.

But...the permanence of both possibilities is what is scaring me off at the moment. And the fact that my stupefyingly 'original' idea for a tatt is - after much googling - apparently not so revolutionary after all. I even saw a smidgeon of it on Jack's inner arm while sacrificing my night-time sleep in favour of devouring the entire third season of Lost.

Double sigh.

On an unrelated note, I've apparently been featured on the comedy homepage of TalentDatabase.



Good sigh.

Tyra Banks bullshizz: the Comic Mummy breakdown

Okay, so I've laid off the pop culture stuff for a bit, so revolted was I beginning to get with my preoccupation with it (a symptom of my having a little too much time on my hands for a while there...) but something's come to my attention this week that I simply cannot NOT comment on.

This whole 'Jennifer Love Hewitt/Tyra Banks/insert-other-target-here is fat' thing.

*taking a deep breath*

It is my very humble opinion that a new code of conduct be devised, a code which every single editor of every single gossip/women/etc magazine is bound to comply with. A code which entails:

1. NEVER publishing articles on 'Boost your self esteem!', 'The Tragedy of Bulimia' or 'Love your body now!' if they appear in the same issue as zoom lensed photos closing in on "Uma Thurman's cottage cheese thighs".

And yes, I actually saw that on a mag once, I believe the exact caption on the cover was something like 'Uma's cottage cheese thighs: EWW!!!!' I know after simply seeing that on the magazine rack - and I never even bought the damn thing - I instantly felt compelled to cover up all my flesh with an extra couple of layers of clothing. Of course it being summer and all, I instead opted for icecream, thereby adding an extra couple of layers of fat. Point is: while printing crap like that may arguably make us feel better for a millisecond that celebs are mere mortals after all, this is mega-outweighed by the feeling of 'well gees, if The Bride is having issues then what the hell is this whale-suit I'm lugging around?'

and furthermore:

2. ONLY using buzzwords like 'fat' or 'chubby' after said editor has subjected themselves to a photo shoot combining underwear, close-ups and fluroescent lighting.

What can I say? I aim to make the world a better place.

PS Speaking of knickers (and slumber, not that I mentioned that but I had to slip it in there somewhere) I haven't forgotten your suggestions Miss and Mezz! I'll be doing the next video entry soon, promise!

3 Things I've Discovered this Week

1. People in this area are unBELIEVABLY generous. Case in point: the dude who sold us our car a good six weeks ago, randomly rocked up on our doorstep the other night with boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations, ornaments, lights and presents for the kids. "I hope you don't think this is weird," he said, "it's just my wife and I don't have any children and we know you're new here and we just wanted to make sure you have a really great Christmas."

Did you hear that? That was my jaw hitting the floor. Luckily, this being one of the nicest places on earth, said jaw did not shatter but simply bounced straight up again only to be filled with fairy-floss.

Dig.

2. Toboganning is possibly the most fun - and free - thing ever in the entire world. Both the kids and I are completely smitten.

Rock.

3. Betty Crocker's chocolate frosting in a tub is possibly the most delectable - and fattening - thing I've ever been addicted to. I'm in serious trouble here.

Doh.

The downside to gigging in Canada

So I'm on my way to Yuk Yuk's last night, having set out some two and a half hours PRIOR to the gig to allow myself the requisite time to get lost (which I've been making a habit of every time I've driven to Calgary thus far).

It's a snowy night. The roads are icy. And it's pitch black.

Yet nothing will stop me. For this is my first night at Yuk Yuk's! And I am psyched! And...I am hardcore!

Then the rain starts. Which quickly turns to ice on my windscreen. Which, combined with the trucks zooming by in lanes which I can't even see the markings of...leaves me feeling a little frazzled. Suddenly I can't see a thing, and I'm struck by two thoughts:

1. If I die tonight, thus leaving my kids motherless for a 7-minute spot at a comedy club, I'm gonna be mighty peeved.

2. There is no WAY I'm leaving this planet to the sound of a Jessica Simpson track. (Hey, it was the only radio station I could get reception on, gimme a break!)

And so, I did the unthinkable, pulled over at the nearest petrol station, calmed myself and phoned Tim to ask him to call the club and explain that I wasn't game to make it. "Wow," teased Tim. "You're giving up a gig? It must be REALLY bad!"

And so I dragged my sorry icicled butt back home at a mind-boggling highway pace of 60kph. All dressed up with nowhere to go, I got home in time to read books to my little dude and kiss both kidlets goodnight, then drowned my sorrows in some way-too-rich licquer with the Tim-meister, followed by practising on my keyboard (I'm learning to play Jerry Lewis style...yeehaw!) and then staying up WAY too late to polish off Steve Martin's Born Standing Up. Which, might I add, is so full of insight and general all-round marvel that when I was only a third of the way through I already could not WAIT to read it all over again! If you are a comedian, you must read this. That is an order.

Now excuse me while I finish calming down this morning. After last night's highway escapades, I think I'm due for at least a chant or forty-four.

Today's Headlines

It's Monday morning, there's by far the most snow here that I've seen thus far (can you say 'let's shovel out the car'?) and I'm about to take my little tike ice-skating.

How's that for officially updating?

The latest:

- I FINALLY got my butt down to train with Loose Moose Theatre on Saturday and in a word (or more specifically, 5): it was worth the wait! The group seems to be pretty varied in its make-up but with one uniting factor: positivity!

- I'm doing a spot down at Yuk Yuk's tomorrow night. Chookas to me.

- The kids are fully recovered and enjoying life again. They are also DESPERATE to get a Christmas tree up, so looks like that's on the agenda for this afternoon.

- And I miss my Mum.

Zat is all.

The Video Blogging Experiment: The Sequel!

And the latest column: Christmas Festivities in Canmore

I must admit that I churned this one out rather quickly but I think it's one of my faves thus far, if only cos it documents such a special night.

Don't ask me why I did it...

...but tonight, I rode my bicycle both TO and FROM work in the snow.

Dude, I am so totally hardcore right now.

Thank you Anonymous!

Whoever you are, thanks for directing my attention to the Stephen Fry article on bipolar - as serendipity would have it, the very next day I came face to face with his autobiography in our little ole public library. It now sits on my kitchen bench, awaiting my devouring eyes.

Hopefully they'll actually get around to reading it shortly; I have this horrible habit of being overcome with excitement in libraries, stocking up on a billion books and of course, only ever getting to one, maybe two of them at most. Much like the way I am with life.

The more this trip goes on, I'm realising it's one big lesson in reality checking!!

Forecast: brighter

So on the upside, Ella is back at school again and Caleb is well enough to get out and about again too. Woohoo!

On the downside, the little Mister's preschool has been shut down for the next few weeks - apparently they found some mould in the water pipes and so need to get it all sorted out before Erin Brockovich turns up - so I'm pretty much with-child constantly, however...

Back on the upside, at least it's ONE child who is relatively cruisy and fun and enjoys having adventures out and about, as opposed to TWO kids who, while both fun in their own right, tend to spend every minute together inventing new ways to annoy the will to live out of each other.

Wow. Did you hear that? That was me letting off steam.

On some notable tangents:

- we're finally geared up (translation = henceforth broke as hell) and ready to hit the ski slopes. Well, except for poor Tim, whose knee is still playing up, lessening his desire to put it at risk just yet. But the kids and I at least will be giving it a bash in the next couple of weeks and Tim will hopefully not be too far behind. I've always wanted to be a cool snowboarding type, ever since I read "Snowboarding to Nirvana" some ten years ago, complete with a Tibetan Lama character who busted out gnarley moves while basking in enlightenment.

- there are still some exciting possibilities presenting themselves - some very unexpected, in fact - in the comedy field, I'm just trying not to count my chickens before they hatch, so will hold my cards close for now and try to stop indulging in more metaphoric silliness in the one paragraph.

- I'm looking forward to reading Steve Martin's autobiography as soon as I can get my hands on a copy. This quote in particular seems relevant to my depressing rant the other day: "I have heard it said that a complicated childhood can lead to a life in the arts. I tell you this story (i.e. of how his father beat him as a child) of my father and me to let you know I am qualified to be a comedian."

Zat is all.

PS Last week's column: "Driving Miss Hazy"

If you're interested, naturally.

Baby sometimes words just ain't enough.

If you can overlook the fact she looks just like Kenny from South Park, I think this shot is kinda arty.

One of my favourite photos I've ever taken and I didn't even have to ask her to do anything, I was just gonna photograph the tree when she jumped straight on it. I think there's a lesson there...

And finally, these are my new Snowboots, whom I love. And yes, I said 'whom' and used a capital 'S'. They are my friends and I heart them, so let me be.

Cold, unfeeling grammar-nazis...

On My Teenage Idols

So I'm stuffing around on the internet today and all of a sudden I come across a signature on somebody's comment saying "RIP Jonathan Brandis". I irk. Physically. Is that for real? I google it and there it is.

Jonathan Brandis, of IT, Neverending Story 3 and all-round long-forgotten teen idol over whom both my sister and I used to obsess (is this Comic Mummy coming clean week or what?!), took his own life way back in 2003. Allegedly triggered in part by his dismay at the state of his career. Boy oh boy.

Now, without meaning to negate the obvious tragedy of this horrible occurrence, for now I wish to avoid the obvious depressing reactionary rant to this news and instead share something else that this has led to me contemplatin: some of my other teen celebrity crushes, specifically in the where are they now? sense.

Firstly, Chad Allen - I used to dream of marrying this guy, seriously. He was so clean-cut, but then went so bad boy in that terrible tele-movie about the woman getting her student to kill her husband (I think it co-starred Helen Hunt). He's now making something of a comeback on television and is officially gay, gay, gay.

Wil Wheaton - I loved this guy so badly, I used to rewind the part in Toy Soldiers where he says "I wanna go to sleep man, I wanna dream about Jennifer," over and over. And even though I hate it when people call me Jennifer, Wil Wheaton, shirtless and crucifixed-earringed, made it work. Now? He's writing books as well as a rather popular blog, doing the Star Trek conference circuit and is shacked up with a lady plus step-kids, all of which he seems suitably fond of. In a shameless side-note, he has emailed me before (I nearly screamed) but that's a whole other story.

Scott Weinger - He played DJ's boyfriend on Full House, and I, of course, wanting to be just like DJ (cos as a 10-year-old, wasn't she, like, the coolest girl ev-EEERRRRR?) wanted to have a boytoy just like him. Yum-ness. He's apparently now focusing on the screenwriting thing, no deets on the personal life front.

And finally....

Johnny Depp - Who I've never lost track of and I'm sure I never will.

*said in a very non-stalkerish way*

P.S. You're welcome.

A word from the 5-year-old

Ella: "So adults just wish they could be kids again and kids just wish they could be adults? Everybody just wants to be what they aren't?"

Me: "Yeah, I guess so."

Ella: "Hmm. Well, maybe everybody should just be happy with who they are right when they are that."

Damn, kid.

The Comic Mummy Video Diary Experiment

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

So apparently me and the blog are having some time out from each other of late. So, this being our romantic catch-up date and all, let me sum up life of late in brief:

1. I've discovered the wonder that is The Flight of the Conchords TV show on HBO. If you haven't seen this, then you must, I repeat, MUST get thee to a video shop/amazon pronto and demand a copy. Go on. Stop reading. Just do it.

2. If you're still reading...what the? Get to the video shop!

3. Both Ella and I have been sick the past few days, Ella especially so. Meaning that we both missed out on things we've been looking forward to for ages, hers being the Girl Guides sleepover excursion to the zoo, mine being starting training with Loose Moose. Wah.

4. My mum's "all clear" prognosis was apparently a little premature. She's not in the clear after all and has to have chemo every three months up until the end of 2009. Her condition seems good, she's certainly in good spirits but it still isn't great. Bah.

5. I have half a box of Girl Guide cookies and three books of Preschool raffle tickets to sell by tomorrow. Looks like I'll be introducing myself to half the town, door by door tonight.

Wok'n'woll.

The Great Indoors

So we're all sick. Not MAJORLY sick, just irrating-head-coldy sick. Except for Tim. He's like the Energiser Bunny whose batteries never run out. Or something.

Anyhoo, point is, this, combined with what us Aussies qualify as 'freaking freezing!' weather - yes, the snow has started!!! - we're spending a lot of time inside. And it's already starting to drive the Cay-man batty, which - me being his domino and all - is sending ME batty. As soon as the pond fully freezes over, we can do the ice-skating thing, as soon as the snow's thick enough we can do the tobogganing thing, as soon as we've gotten our butts together and finally collected all the bits of ski equipment we need we can hit the slopes...but until then? We're kinda in no-man's land. Which apparently, is located indoors.

WHAT TO DO?!

In brighter news, I had a gig last night at the Comedy Cave in Calgary, a cute little club situated at the bottom of the Travelodge. I decided to go anyway, headcold and all, as cancelling on your first gig at a new place is not a good look. The second I got there I realised there are some major differences between Australian and Canadian comedy. I'd already been instructed to keep it free of expletives, vulgarity and my keyboard....then I arrived to be told "I don't know how you guys do it in Australia but here, our support acts and our feature acts (i.e. headliners) don't do crowd work."

I looked at him for a moment, checking if he was pulling my leg. "For real?" (I swear, I didn't sound like a rapper as I said that).

He nodded.

"Oh," I said. "Okay. Why is that?"

"That's just the way things are."

"Okay. That's cool. I'll just have to re-think my set."

Cos here's the thing. I LOVE chatting to the audience. Heck, one of my favourite things is taking suggestions from them and making up songs, even getting them up onstage with me. But apparently I'll have to rethink my methodology, at least on the stand-up circuit.

Anyhoo, I worked it out at the last minute - this is where an improv background certainly comes in handy! - and was happy enough with how it went. I also got to meet a couple of other comics including the very impressive headliner Bengt Washburn, whose ability to find a level of connection with a very small and tough crowd was really inspiring.

I'm going to be doing something at Yuk-Yuk's in the next couple of weeks, plus tomorrow I'm finally gonna start training with Loose Moose. I cannot WAIT!

But until then, pass the Tylenol.

Second City and the Just for Laughs Tour

What a rocking - and tiring - weekend.

First off, Saturday saw the much-awaited (by me, at least!) MCing of The Second City's Laughter Gone Wild event at the Banff Centre. After driving through a blizzard to get there, I was very happy to arrive in one piece...thus removing much pressure from the performance. Arrival = alive = good. Anything more from that point I considered a bonus.

I entered the amazing Eric Harvie Theatre (one word: WOW) for my keyboard set-up and soundcheck, then was ushered upstairs into the VIP room to indulge in a drink, mingling and generally feeling cool-ish. I met quite a few very cool and friendly locals (and have subsequently realised how handy it is to have a column in the local paper, when it comes to meeting people in your community. Is that as desperate as it sounds?) and was then introduced to the stars of the night - the cast of the Toronto-based Second City touring company. Moments of chatter later and it was time for the event to begin.

The crowd - somewhere round the 1000 people mark if my guestimate is in any way accurate - was extremely friendly and ready to laugh! After having done a test-run on a couple of local Canadians to ensure my new comedy song "It Ain't Easy Bein' a Grizzly" wasn't going to appal the audience into a state of hatred, I let it rip anyway. I then had the very VERY cool job of introducing the SC crew onto stage...I may well die a happy woman.

They were everything you would expect from Second City - polished, professional, attractive...(teehee). They performed a combo of their 'best of the Second City' sketch range (which was wicked, especially cos last year during my USA trip our Second City tutor had shown us some old videos of a couple of these sketches, so seeing them live just brought a new spin on things), plus some tailor-made wildlife-themed sketches written for the event itself, as well as some improvised pieces. I was completely stoked to see their entire last half of the show was completely improvised. And it was hawt.

Damn it, Mildred, I think the bar's been raised again.

(I don't even know who Mildred is, I just love the thought that someone out there might say that. It's almost two in the morning as I write this. Forgive me.)

Following the show, we headed over to the Banff Centre's on-campus pub, where I indulged in geeking out over improv with them. Had a particularly awesome chat with cast member Christy, who trained for 12 years with Loose Moose right nearby here in Calgary, before moving to Toronto to do the SC thing. So she had lots of great tidbits to share on the differences between the two.

Anyhoo, I could ramble on forever about this crap and it ain't gettin more interesting, particularly if you have no penchant for improv.

THEN...tonight I braved the Canadian highways again and headed on down to Calgary to check out the late show of the Just for Laughs Comedy Tour, featuring a range of some of the best comics in the biz, including Australia's own..da, da, da, da...Fiona O'Loughlin!

As soon as I saw the ad on television, I was all "I am so completely there", cleared it with the hubbster and booked my tix. I enjoyed it so much, the comics were just superb (and a special shout-out to Greg Behrendt, whom you may know either from stand-up, or his writing - he co-penned 'He's Just Not That Into You' and advised on Sex and the City, who has totally inspired me to focus more on storytelling in my comedy) and Fi certainly did the Aussies proud.

I met up with her for a brief congratulatory chat after the show, which must have been a spinout, seeing as last time we were together was way back in Feb at the Bangalow Big Joke Fest. Hopefully we'll meet up again in Montreal come July next year. After tonight, I'm more eager than ever to get my butt there. If only so I can shake it and say "Ooh, la la." (Actually, doesn't that just translate to: "Ooh, the the."???

So yes, as I said, it's WAY past my bedtime.

Adieu. The. The.

How I Met Your Pa

As kindly suggested by rnbuffoon, the following is a full - indeed, possibly overly wordy - account of how I met the giant ball of sometimes-infuriating-yet-mostly-yummy fairy-floss that is my hubbster.

I first heard about Tim about six months before we actually met. My little sister Ang had just changed high schools, and had immediately connected with a gal called Catherine - by all accounts they bonded during a drama class exercise when they had to talk about somebody they missed and both chose to speak of their older sibling (i.e. me for Ang, Tim for Catherine) who had left home for the greener pastures of university. I recall a phone conversation with Ang sometime shortly after, with her telling me how Catherine had spilled her guts over how her bro used to be her best bud and how much she loved him and was gutted out that he was now living a plane ride away. Having only witnessed younger sister/older brother dynamics involving screaming and blowtorches, I was pretty surprised. Wow, I thought. He sounds like something else.

I never really gave it any more thought than that, until half a year later I found myself back in T'ba (that's affectionate/derogatory speak - depending on your mood - for Toowoomba, my hometown), having finished uni, for some much needed recovery time. Which mainly involved listening to way too much Ben Harper and Leonardo's Bride and writing pretentious poetry. Anyhoo, as it turned out, Tim too, had made the move back to Woomby-land (that's another Toowoomba term. If you ever get there, do be sure to use it. Just make sure you footnote me.)

Part of my down-time involved me evaluating my experiences thus far with the whole men thing. After some, let's see, let's just call them 'ridiculous' ventures, I'd decided that at the grand old age of 19, I was fed up with the whole thing. No more would I settle for less! And so, in equally 'ridiculous' fashion, I set forth and wrote a list of not three, not seven, but EVERY quality I wanted in a guy. From "likes poetry" to "appreciates folk music" to "waterskis", I believe the final tally of criteria came in at 103.

Anyhoo, I read them one night to my darling sis, who laughed at me, but then at the end said to me: "That's weird. Do you know who's almost every single one of those?"

Me: "Who?"

Ang: "Tim."

(Note: in fact he wasn't. He couldn't play guitar and had never waterskiied. But we soon remedied that.)

Catherine and Angie, meantime, had become best friends. Indeed, they were inseparable. And I, now having NO friends left in the Woombster (hehe, I made that one up), started to hang out at Cat's place a lot. It's weird, because though I must have gone there at least ten times in the space of a few weeks, not ONE of those times was Tim there. I met the entire remainder of the family - and it's not small - but Tim remained the missing piece of the puzzle, no doubt heightening his enigmatic status in my mind.

The day we did meet, he was sitting on a chair in the loungeroom watching the cricket with the fam. (It remains a favourite past-time in that house, something which I still don't quite understand...) Our meeting wasn't exactly momumental, I think we chatted for about four minutes before I got all nervous and excused myself. Nervous? you say. You? NO! But yes.

We started to hang out, sneaking cigarettes together out the front of his house (which was ridiculous, because we were both legally adults at this point, but somehow the whole 'having parents inside' thing made it seem kinda naughty) and talking about philosophy, life, the universe and everything.

The chats continued, the tension built...and two months later, I was a little over it. Was he NEVER going to make a move? Seriously? Cos if it really wasn't going to happen, I certainly didn't want to waste my time sitting around and waiting for it. (As anybody who knows me at all will verify, patience is not one of my strong points).

Then came the night of the 1998 Pearl Jam concert. Ang and Cat had convinced me to exchange my moshpit ticket with their seated one, with the chance to sit next to Tim as the juicy carrot. After relenting, I vowed to myself that if he didn't make a move tonight - remember, I had given up a MOSH TICKET for this - then that was it. I was moving up and on baby.

We met up before the concert and had a few drinks. Nice. We walked into the stadium and sat down and straight away held hands. Nicer. Then, during the support act, the lead singer called out to the audience "Anybody who's here with someone they like, love, or whatever, I just want you to turn to each other now and give each other a big kiss!" Nicest. I couldn't believe my luck! WOOHOO!

Tim turned to me and smiled. "Well, we can't just kiss because he told us to!"

Be still my sinking heart.

About five minutes later, he reached over and pashed me anyway.

And the rest...va va voom, two kids and an overseas jaunt later...is history.

Best line ever from a kids' show

"Note to skin. Start crawling."

On Wild Life

Okay, so the mood doesn't seem to be taking anybody to share inspiring nuggets. That's cool. No, really. In fact, it makes me feel right at home - my kids are never in that mood either - but if perchance another mood takes you, like the mood to check out my latest column about wildlife, then please, knock yourself out.

Not literally.

That would be weird.

Why can't I go back to (comedy) college?

You know it's a good week when you're spending much of it reciting Bill Cosby lines.

(Well, that's my idea of a good week, I've no idea what that says about my life. Actually, yeah I do.)

I've also been reading the autobiography of Mary Tyler Moore, was BUMMED that our television didn't pick up the channel which screened a doco on Carol Burnett on Monday but comforted myself by stocking up on a couple of wicked comedy books (Canmore Secondhand Bookstore - let us embark on a mad affair) including a self-penned title by Joan Rivers and a couple of classics from the man: Cosby. Who, I've just found out, is still touring madly throughout the States and lengthy non-stop shows at that. And he's, what? 70? Man alive.

Anyhoo, point is, combining reading, writing and watching more comedy in the past month than I've watched in my entire LIFE - I'm getting pretty soaked. As Tim put it: "You've basically come here and you're putting yourself through comedy college!" Yesterday I met up with a very cool dude who lives right here in Canmore - he trained with Second City Toronto back in the eighties, has run improv workshops (in other words, has a real passion for this stuff) and has kinda taken me under his wing a bit. i.e. I think I've found a mentor. Anyway, all this has resulted in a whirlpool of nuggets of wisdom that are, as I type, swimming around at a maddening pace in my muddled little mind. Aaah.

So what I now would like to know is...what are some of yours? i.e. the words/quotes/advice/tips/wisdomly chocolate chips that fire up your belly? I don't want to ask for your 'top inspirational tidbit of all time' because how can we possibly quantify or rank this stuff? But one thing I love more than anything is finding out what fires people up. So if you have anything or anything to share...

If you're in the mood, spill it baby.

FINALLY.

I'm finally pumped.

1. Last night, FINALLY met up with some comedic types here in Canmore, one of whom trained with Second City Toronto back in the day. I am so, like, totally excited about this.

2. Today, FINALLY, we bought a car. Meaning I can now go back and forth to Calgary at will, meaning I can now:

a) train with Loose Moose Theatre, the delay of which - due to nothing other than transport issues - has been driving me to the point of madness;

b) pursue gigs in Calgary, Banff and wherever else; and

c) our family can now go on some day trips and longer road trips to broaden our Canadian experience!

3. For the first time, I FINALLY watched a full stand-up show of Bill Cosby's. DAMN. The man is my hero. That is all. (And, I just found out, he'll be doing a show right near Toronto in June next year...I am dying to book tix right this second but should just wait until our plans for 2008 become a little clearer).



4. This very night I FINALLY got my hands on a copy of Jerry Seinfeld's documentary Comedian which Greg Sullivan urged me to watch many moons ago. Man alive, I am so completely in love with comedy again, despite its nuttiness, narcissism and never-ending agony.

Two quotes in particular, stood out to me (both of which I am paraphrasing):

Jerry: "I used to write just one or two nights a week. Then one day I noticed these construction workers heading back to work after their lunch break and I suddenly thought 'Well, THEY don't feel like going back to work, but they are. So if they can show that level of dedication and commitment to their work, then why shouldn't I?'"

And finally, from the man, Bill Cosby himself: "That's the greatest thing a performer can say at the end of their life. 'I took what I had...and I knocked it outta the park."

Don't nag Mummy before her morning coffee!

Farethee well, Jack-o-Lantern

Well, it's a done deal.

We've decorated, we've partied, we've written a column about it (well, okay, I did that bit - and how's that for a not-so-subtle plug?) and after tonight, we've trick-or-treated too.

Once they got the hang of the whole thing, the kids were like roided up athletes, fighting for the Olympic gold. They quickly worked out the house codes:

Lights on = candy.

Pumpkins = possibly lots of candy.

Lights off = don't waste your time, just pump those legs and get cracking to the next one before they run out.

I couldn't believe how much effort some people put into decorating their houses - one house even went so far as to transform their entire back garage into a haunted house of sorts, complete with spooky lighting, music and live action ghouls. The kids were freaked out until Mr Skeletor handed them lollypops at the end. If only Hannibal Lector had done the same to me during Silence of the Lambs maybe I coulda saved myself a decade of nightmares.

Ah well.

Until we meet again dear Halloween. It's been fun.

Happy Halloween y'all!

So Halloween has begun! It really is like a week-long festival here, with the kids having a total of four Halloween parties between now and the event itself - and that's just at last count.

Anyhoo, the long and the short of it is that we're actually really getting into the whole thing. Who woulda thunk? Halloween is actually a pretty rocking idea.

I'm writing my next column on it, so will save my pearls of wacky waffle for that, but in the meantime, here's a little visual summary. Bon Apetit. (Hey, it's as close as I'm getting to speaking French here).

Above: Tim's first attempt at a jack-o-lantern. Apparently it's kinda addictive. Brings new meaning to the words 'Pumpkin Patch'...

Poor guy. We were going to try to incorporate the crutches into his get-up somehow, but then figured there's nothing quite like a costume that doesn't actually make sense, is there?

And finally...the outfits that scared our own children: introducing The Glampires. Is it wrong to love dressing up so much?

When the going gets good, the good gets blogging

Okay, so when I asked you guys to cross your fingers ready for me to get some corporate work, you did, didn't you? Bless your little cottonsocks, you must have instantly adopted the pretzel position, the lot of you - forming a neat little packet of twisted limbness across the globe - cos damn, straight, things are starting to fire up.

*a gigantic hooch of happiness echoing throughout the mountains*

Last night had my first official comedy gig with Canucks watching, with a 20 minute set in Calgary run by the Calgary FunnyFest. And I'm walking on sunshine. I was desperately itchy to perform and so was a little nervous to see how rusty I might be, but I'm happy to say that to my surprise, my elation to be onstage just took over and *gasp, shock* I had the BEST time. I hearted it muchly, got bought a round of drinks from a couple of audience members and floated away into the night like a marshmallow dove who's found an extra floaty cloud.

Much, much adoration and bouquets of loveliness to my friend Tracie for driving me down to Calgary, letting me crash her special time between her and her little dude (when we first arrived at the venue where I was to spend the next four hours waiting until the gig began - how shall we say this politely, uh...not the Ritz? - she turned to me, tilted her head and said: "So, would you like to come to dinner with us?" and I nodded with the enthusiasm of a bobble-headed car mascot) and then hanging around late to drive me back. You darling.

But the big news.....I'm so stoked, I actually don't feel tired. And that never happens. I got a call this morning asking me to MC at the upcoming Laughter Gone Wild event at the Banff Centre, featuring as headliners none other than Second City. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!

I've gotta stop screaming here, or the locals are going to come and hunt me down.

You know the funniest thing though? When I spoke to the lady on the phone this morning, she said "I saw your column in the paper actually."

I said: "Oh! And you still want to hire me?"

I guess it's true. All publicity is good publicity.

Opportunity for you funner buggers out there...

Dun-Right.com is looking to establish itself as a place where talented humor columnists, both seasoned and novices, can post some of their original (real or fiction) and previously unpublished stories/narratives. We are fairly new, and fairly poor, so to start we are offering $1 to writers whose submissions we post on the site. If your submission is really funny, it will be put to a vote with other really funny submissions from that week. If voted funniest article of the week, you win $20. As the site continues to gain momentum, we are hoping to increase the prize money that we can award to our talented writers. With your support, more traffic = more clicks on our ads = more prize money we can pay out. If you have a site that you want to promote, we are happy to accomodate by placing a link to your site with any submission we post. If you have any other ideas how we can help eachother out, we are all ears! Thanks very much!

Your questions answered!!!

Okay, you wanted it (or maybe you just indulged a poor woman in need) but either way, here ya go!

Mezza asked: What is your improv philosophy?
Wow, good question! Um…hmmm. It’s constantly evolving, I think. Like when I started it was just ‘Who cares whether the audience thinks I’m an idiot? Tomorrow morning I’ll be wiping asses and cleaning up baby spew, so let’s just have fun!’ whereas now it’s more ‘Who care whether the audience thinks I’m an idiot? Tomorrow morning I’ll be making lunches and getting prepped for pre-school, so let’s just have fun!’

Okay, I kid. (A little).

At the moment I’m reading this fantastic book called The Art of Comedy by Paul Ryan, which talks about achieving ‘comedic freedom’, which is something I’m really focused on right now. It’s probably better in his words: “…being able to use your mind and body without any constraints or inhibitions. Comedy freedom is a state of mind that allows you to be funny without any limits. Something takes over your mind and body, and you enter into a natural state of flow. You stop analyzing what you are doing and worrying about what other people are thinking. Many sides of your brain are working at the same time – all in the service of your comedy.”

The other part of my philosophy right now is based on keeping it real. i.e. Not trying to be funny, but just staying focused on the reality of the situation. There’s a terrific story Jamie Dawson from Qld Theatre Company told me years and years ago, about a young actor playing in a production with Laurence Olivier. Night after night, the young actor’s line where he would ask for a cup of tea would arouse a massive eruption of laughter from the audience. Then suddenly, a few weeks into the run and seemingly with no reason, the laughs stopped coming.

The bewildered young actor turned to Olivier for advice. “I don’t understand!” he said. “Every night that got a laugh and now, nothing!”

Oliver turned to him and replied: “That’s because you used to ask for a cup of tea. Now you ask for a laugh.”

I love that.

Not sure if it answers the question, but I love that.

***
Then, dear Lou proved herself to be the Shanghai-aboding Oprah:

1. Favourite potato chips flavour.
Barbecue. Though given the choice, good old corn chips are my fave.



2. Most stupid thing you regret doing.
Dyeing my hair black, then back to blonde, which wasn’t blonde but in fact patchy orange/blonde/insert foul rust-coloured colour here. Actually, remembering that has made me realize how much of a mistake it really was – given that I’ve been contemplating going brunette lately, I think you’ve helped me make my decision. Ta!

Oh and accidentally getting so written off on my final night of university that I got sent home in a cab by 7.30 and missed out on saying a final goodbye to EVERYBODY.

3. Most stupid thing you DON'T regret doing.
Getting unexpectedly up the duff.

4. Pan or thin crust Pizza?
Thin. With barbecue sauce.


5. If you could chose one song- and only one- to be the soundtrack to your life, what would it be?
While the Muppet anthem and the theme tune from Punky Brewster are up there, it has to be One Night in Bangkok. While I can’t explain it, something about those beats and those chords, ALWAYS gets me pumped. (Don’t tell anybody but one of my greatest dreams is to perform my parody of it at some massive awards show. Why they’d want a song on childbirth doing the honours, I have no idea, but viva la fantasy! But please...that's just between us.)


6. If you can arrange it, what will be your last dying words?
"And they said taking an elephant sky-diving was dangerous.”


7. Who would play you in the movie about your life?
Oh boy. It would have to be someone with such incredible range, to go from the riveting highs of world domination to the blistering lows of writhing in a gutter singing ‘All by myself’…

That is a toughie. Okay: Goldie Hawn. Though there are some logistical issues there, from the fact that she’d be well over 90 by the time I’m even possibly approaching biography worthy, to the fact we have rather different boobies. But this is ideal-world where we frolick, is it not?

8. Tell us about your most embarrassing moment.
Well, it has to do with the birthing process and I'm pretty sure nobody here really wants me to go there.

How bout this then? Performing One Night in Labour a couple of years ago at Melbourne Comedy Fest, in front of an 8-person crowd, 7 of whom were pensioners. Not only did I do my pensioner joke but I then launched into my childbirth song – as I was reenacting the journey down the birth canal: DEAD SILENCE. I realized at that exact moment the value of a) tailoring your material for your audience and b) laughing through pain. I just giggled through the rest of the song.

9. Top ten most valuable things you've learned as a mother.
1. Hi-Five sucks.
2. At the end of your life, all your dreams and goals – however fabulous - may have forgotten about you, but your family, friends and loved ones are the ones who’ll be there to buy you a new walker. So invest wisely.
3. People with immaculate houses have dull lives. (Actually, I haven't learned that so much as read it on a fridge magnet somewhere and okay, I actually know people with immaculate houses who are quite rocking, but…it’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.)
4. No matter how many books you read, how many women you talk to or how many comedy songs on the subject you see performed…NOTHING can prepare you for childbirth.
5. Time goes way too fast and is more precious than the Ring to rule them all.
6. Being productive isn’t the best way to spend all of your time. There ain't no outcome to cuddles, but doesn't mean they're not delicious as choccie mousse. Which is my favourite ever food by the way. Not that you asked...
7. That said, when you do need to be productive, having kids is massively motivating - cos you have no time to waste!
8. It really doesn’t matter what anybody else in the world thinks of me, my kids think I’m the most hilarious, comedy gold-mining, fabulous person on the planet.
9. You need to pick your battles.
10. If you’re pregnant with your second, while your first has a nasty habit of running out onto the road and you are so overloaded that you can’t catch her? Do get a fence.

10. Who are your favourite bloggers.... (Of course you have to say me....heheh) no, seriously- recommend some reading for us.
They’re all pretty much on my links bar already. But of particular note right now the ones I dig very muchly are:
- GirlClumsy
- Me Myself Eye
- Rockstar Mommy
- And you. Of course!
- I’m also ashamed to admit I’m kinda hooked on gossip blogs. Oh the shame. But in my defence, they are great comedic fodder.

And finally, RN Buffoon asked:
How about " Tell us all about the day/night you met you hubby Tim?"

Well, I think this blog entry is quite long enough. So...stay tuned! How bout a sexy visual teaser for you in the meantime?



HAWT.

And in breaking news...

Tim's busted his knee. He hasn't broken it - as would have been disastrous though allowed for a beautifully poetic blog title to accompany this entry - but seems to have torn a ligament or something like that. Bottom line is he can't even walk and is gonna be bed-bound (and might I add, unable to work and thus make a crust) for ??? days. AGH!!!!!!

If everybody could just start crossing everything for me to start getting some juicy corporate gigs soon, that would be SWEET.

Ta!

PS Thanks for the questions thus far - wow, meaty! I'll get to them soon, cwoss my heart. :-)

Fire at will.

Okay, so I'm feeling a little stumped with what to write at the moment.

What? YOU, Comic Mummy? Stumped? Impossible! You are...how do you say, unstumpable, no?!

I'll stop that now. Forgive me...it was kinda amusing while I was writing it in a French accent.

Anyhoo, I've decided to do something I've seen other bloggers do before...

What? YOU, Comic Mummy? Plagiarise ideas from others' bloggers? Impossible! You are...how do you s-

Okay. Seriously. Stopping. Now.

...and invite you to ask any question you like, on any topic, whatever and I'll answer it. It'll be my next blog post. It may be mildly entertaining, I guess that's at least partly up to you.

Let em roll, baby!

A terrifying Halloween borne of a head-cold

Forgive me for my brief entries of late, I've been a little under the weather. Buried under it in fact - my kids have been digging for days trying to find me and now: woot! Here I am. Still under the weather, but getting closer to the surface.

(Note: please ignore this entire entry. As I've pointed out before, medication does strange things to the human mind, never more tangibly expressed than in written outpourings.)

Anyway, the point is, I've been pretty well housebound, with which kids in tow, can be more revolting than some of the lipo-suction stunts I've heard about in Dirty Sanchez. So...I've turned to the wondrous internet to provide me with some homemade Halloween decorations, to keep the kids entertained. I can't tell you how painful this is - I HATE crafts. Namely cos I have massive fingers and while they come in handy for piano-playing, they're crapola when it comes to fiddly 'fine motor skills' type stuff. But...I was desperate. So I gave it a shot.

To give you an idea of how much I struggle with this, here is what our 'pipecleaner spiders' were SUPPOSED to look like:


Pretty cool, huh? This was what our spiders ACTUALLY look like:

Stop laughing. It's insulting.

Then, of course, there's our themed wall...(if you look real close you'll see Caleb's contribution down the bottom left) and yes, I tried to 'design' (translation = hack out of cardboard at random will) the cut-outs myself.

And let's not even talk about the ghosts... Ooh yeah. Halloween in our household is going to be terrifying, alright.

All hail the mighty Chris Rock

I've never been a massive fan, but obviously I've been watching the wrong stuff. Cos MAN Chris Rock is unbelievable. He is so good, he can get away with saying the most unbelievable things and yet speaks with such unashamed confidence - and wit - that he pulls it off.

I'm a convert. Chris Rock - you da man!

New column: 'Would the Real Turkey Please Stand Up'

As promised, here is the full account of my life-changing encounter with my first Thanksgiving turkey.

And it's all true.

I'm turning Canadian, oh yes, I'm turning Canadian, I really think so...

I caught myself saying "staff" the other day - as in "ST-AAAAAAA-F". What the?

Then there's the fact that the Cayman has called me "Mom" at least twice.

Not to mention Ella's pleas of "Let's go to the store and get some candy."

We've only been here a little over six weeks - is this what happens? At this rate, by the time we set foot back in Oz we're going to be sweating maple syrup. Help!

5 Things I'm, like, WAY into right now

1. Corner Gas - a very quirky, very Canadian and VERY hilarious sit-com, which, apparently, every Canadian with a pulse (and believe me, there are a few) is pretty well into. You can check out some video clips on the website, I'm not sure whether they do the whole show justice, as I definitely had to watch a full episode before I really 'got' the characters and so on, but still...give it a bash. Eh?

2. Tim Minchin's new website - ah, he really just is so flipping cool, isn't he? In that wonderful self-deprecating way.
*bursting into Jeremy Jordan track* I wanna be just like you, I wanna be just the same...
Anyhoo, check him out. AND...he's going to start cracking the USA as of a month or so. Tres cool. (Damn, I wish you could write 'tres' and actually seem cool instead of a tosser).

3. Feeling like a celebrity when people recognise me from my newspaper column. Okay, so 'celebrity' is a bit much, it's only been four people who've recognised me thus far, but one of them was a very lovely grandmother who took it upon herself to introduce me to her daughter (and mother of two kiddlies herself) who promptly invited our whole family to stay with them in Montreal any time we like. Uh...like, yes please! Like, for next year's Just for Laughs Comedy Festival! AGH!

4. Watching more comedy than I've ever watched in my entire life. Seriously, it's like having my own at-home comedy festival. I'm doing some casual shifts at the local video store you see, and, while it is nothing short of humbling to go from earning a pretty okay living doing 20 minutes of comedy a night back in Oz, to...well, working for hours in a video store, the harsh reality right now is that we need whatever dosh we can get. Plus the people are nice, I need friends (can you ever write that and not sound desperate?) and I'm seriously consoling myself by working my way through their superb collection of stand-up. Thus far I've checked out George Carlin, Jerry Seinfeld, Tracey Ullman, Ellen Degeneres, Richard Pryor, Jim Belushi, Gilda Radner, Bill Maher, plus heaps of compilations and have been taking notes the whole way. And I've still got about another 70+ DVDs to get through. Rock.

5. And finally, these. They're gonna be the death of me.

WordFest!

So last night was lovely - it was so funny to observe the similar dynamics between the in-group of writers, as is present when hanging with comics. All in all, the event went really well. I must admit, I was a little nervous just beforehand, seeing as this is my first gig since leaving Oz some six weeks ago.

As I was readying myself, I got an unexpected boost from my 5-year-old.

Ella: "Where are you going?"

Me: "I've got a gig."

(Bear in mind back in Oz when I was in the midst of gig craziness every single week, this would usually be met with a reaction of 'Oh, not again! I don't want you to go!')

Ella: "Have you really Mum? That's GREAT!"

So I set off with a smile. The words of advice I received a few months back from Brissie comedy legend Fred Lange rang in my ear - "When you're MCing, you don't even have to be funny at all. It's not about you. It's about keeping things rolling, making sure it all ties together...and if you're funny, well, that's a bonus."

Indeedly.

Joel Thomas Hynes, ignoring the cool air (well, it was cool to me) with cigarette in hand, was the first writer I met immediately upon rocking up to the Banff Centre. Dubbed the 'bad boy' of Canadian literature, my first impression of him was that he reminded me of a young Russell Crowe. Not in looks, but more the attitude. Cool, aloof and you suspected, brilliant.

Me: "Hi, I'm Jenny."

Joel: "Jenny. That's my girlfriend's name."

Me: "Oh good, well it'll be easy to remember then. And this is Kelly." (the lovely lass who chauffeured me about all evening).

Kelly: "Hi."

Joel: "Kelly. That's my girlfriend's name."

Smooth.

Next I met Ray Robertson, author of the truly excellent What Happened Next, the story of what happened after Jack Kerouac's On the Road, and I can honestly say I'm hooked on it, only six chapters in. We had more of a chat at the end of the night when we were chauffeured together back to our respective abodes, talking about writing, 'big breaks' versus 'the snowballing effect', Toronto and the decision to have (or not have) kids. A really talented and friendly man.

Finally there was my fellow Aussie-in-crime at the event, Morganics. Man oh man. Not only is he one of the most approachable, down-to-earth fellas you're likely to meet, but he is UNBELIEVABLY talented. I must confess, I've never been a huge hip-hop fan, but last night really changed something. He performed some pieces without backing - really allowing the poetry of the work to ring through - then pieces with his recording-on-the-spot device (the Loopstation, one of which I want so badly I'd almost fight a grizzly for it) and performed over the top of that. But it was his improvised (or freestyle, as is the hip-hop term) pieces at the end which blew my mind. Taking suggestions from the audience, he rapped at the pace of a steroid-pumped Olympian, rhyming, chiming and otherwise climbing (that's my attempt, there you go) the heights of hip-hop off the top of his head. Just amazing. I do hope I get to catch up with him again before the end of the festival and pick his brain on his technique!

So the Mountain Bistro at Banff was our setting, nicely full without being overcrowded, plenty of wine flowing and suitably writers-festish lighting (let your imagination do with that what you will). Judging by the audience reaction, everybody enjoyed themselves. The readings were great, it flowed smoothly, people paid attention until the end and there was suitable mingling afterward.

Then just as I was about to pat myself on the back for conquering the first Canadian gig hurdle, Joel Thomas Hynes gave me a nudge: "Uh, just so you know, 'Newfie' is not a particularly desirable term."

Let me explain. Joel is from Newfoundland - and so I, having heard that the colloquial term for someone from Newfoundland (one of Canada's states, but not always so) is a 'Newfie', I immediately thought 'how great!' and thought I'd chuck it in my introduction! My first gig here and I'll show 'em how I really care enough about Canadian culture to do my homework! Uh...except not.

Me: "Oh?! Really?"

Him: "Yeah."

Me: "Oh. I thought it just meant Newfoundlander."

Him: "Well, it does, but it's not something that people necessarily like to be called. It's okay, I know you didn't realise what you were saying could be taken badly."

Me: "No I didn't, thanks."

Pause.

Me: "So um, it's not like as bad as saying 'nigger' or something, is it?"

Pause.

*my heart sinking into the pit of my lower intestine*

Him: "Well..."

GULP.

So let's hope like hell this isn't a sign of things to come. My first gig in Canada and I just used a semi racial expletive to introduce a famous author. Thank heavens he was nice about it. As for the rest of the audience, I'm just waiting for the rumours to spread throughout Banff about the ignoramus racist ho from Down Under who nobody should ever hire lest she introduce the guest speaker onstage as a member of the Third Reich.

Let this be a lesson to y'all - if you're gonna do your homework, make sure you double-check it!!!

Go Comic Mummy.

Give me a 'C'!

All systems are go!

It's been a great week on the news front.

Firstly, my Mum's just gotten back some test results and looks like her blood count is normal. WOOHOO! She is having some more tests done in a couple of weeks, but thus far it's looking great. I didn't tell you guys this, cos I didn't want to dwell on the bad - as you know I have a disturbing tendency to insist the glass is half full and when it's not I simply ignore the other half - but just after I got to Canada we found out that Mum did indeed have cancer. Rather distressing to say the least. Anyway, according to her it's not a bad type of cancer (as I said to Mum 'is that even possible?') and she only had to have a few sessions of chemo, but it's a new chemo that doesn't make you completely sick or your hair fall out or anything. Bottom line: she's finished off the sessions, is feeling much better, her spleen isn't enlarged anymore so all the signs are good. I want to shout from the mountain-tops right now - and I couldn't be in a better place to fulfil that desire literally.

Speaking of all things literal - hey, you like my segue? - tomorrow night's the night I'll be MCing at Wordfest, the Banff/Calgary International Writers Festival, and I have gone from nervous to panicked to finally fully pumped and enthused in the space of the past week. Now I cannot WAIT!

I've also had some more very exciting doors start to open, but will keep my cards close to my chest until further notice. But damn, after spending the past couple of weeks feeling a little down and doubtful about whether we've made the right choice in coming here, it sure is nice to be finally feeling like stuff is starting to pay off.

And finally...we got the kids Halloween costumes this week! As you know, I'm no longer posting pics of my kids to the public anymore, but I feel it falls within the guidelines to at least show you this little sneak preview.

But may his true identity remain forever private.

New column and childish innuendo

Okay, firstly, you can check out my latest column in the Canmore Leader by clicking here!

And finally, we just got home from the library and I realised that one of the book's the Cayman picked out is kinda weird. Whaddya think?

Should I be worried?

Will the real turkey please stand up?

So it being our first Thanksgiving and all, I cooked my first turkey today! A day later than the actual event, but given that we have no family here to celebrate with *sob sob* it hardly seems to matter.

It was life-changing. It was sensual. And I think I'll be fighting the gag reflex for the rest of my life.

I'm going to be writing my next column all about it, so will save the full debrief in all its sordid foulness - no pun intended - for then.

Until then...

*gobble gobble gobble*

And now for some better news...

I can't really say too much at the moment, lest things don't work out - as I've come to realise over the years, in the creative industries it seems you can get your hopes up about a billion things a year which end up falling through for no good reason other than 'that's life' - but suffice to say for now that some exciting things are shaping up.

*doing the mysterious cape over shoulder thing*

But...one little story I can tell you:

Last Thursday I had an audition of sorts with the local radio station here, namely to do the weekend announcing shift. I was pretty excited about it, even though it wasn't exactly my dream job - while they were open to working with my comedic background, they were more looking for a pretty straight 'back-announce the tracks/talk a bit/keep the music going' kinda person. Anyhoo, I thought I did okay, but not fabulous - then after chatting with hubby I decided it probably wouldn't work out anyway, given that this would then mean giving up a huge portion of every single weekend, putting pressure on the family and our ability to travel out of the area for festivals and so on. In other words, we were pretty much looking on the bright side of having stuffed up the audition.

THEN...da, da, da, da...I got a call from the station offering me the job! Dilemmas...I told them that I'd love to do it but would they be open to having me just one day a week instead of two, and/or finding someone to fill in a day every other week. He asked the big boss, but the answer was no. Understandably. They need someone who can commit to the whole thing.

BUT...then he asked if I'd be keen to develop some comedy characters who can phone into the morning session regularly, to bring a bit more humour to the show. Yee-haw! This is so up my alley, awesome experience and perfect in that I can work it in around the fam.

Now all I have to do is work on perfecting my Canadian accent. Excuse me...

'I knoo Noo York. I need Noo YoRk. I knoo I need unique Noo YoRk.'

New toys and new goals: I'm going public!

I bit the bullet today and bought a schmicko new keyboard - my new toy, bigger and better than the old one I left behind in Oz - and eagerly awaiting friendship from my fingertips. I'm half tempted to set my alarm a little earlier each morning for some committed practice time...but I'm already so committed to sleep...

This purchase has refreshed my enthusiasm for getting my act together and as such, I've decided that my goals for the next little while are:

- to set up a regular comedy gig locally, specifically so I can try out new material as I write it for my new festival show;

- to get a North American agent who will either find me lots of gigs, organise a tour following the Banff Centre residency, kick-start me on the TV route and/or all of the above;

and

- get some more paid writing work.

Oh well, I've gone public with it now - hopefully the fear of shame will drive me towards success. Either that, or towards rehab. Stay tuned!

David Letterman, you still got it!

Britney Spears: Believe

Oops, I did it again.

I really do apologise for all the Britney posts of late, but try as I might, the girl's comedic grist for the mill is just impossible to resist. Point in case: reading here that the shape of her newly released perfume Britney Spears' believe is apparently multifaceted - get this - to reflect Britney's own many beliefs.

Did you hear that? That was my gut exploding.

What might some of these beliefs be, you ask? Well, I'm willing to take a stab at a couple of them in all their multifaceted glory:

1. Thou shalt not wear underwear. Like, ev-errrrr.

2. Thou shalt not waste one single day without being photographed, especially mid custody battle, the exposure of which is only second to a crotchless night out in Vegas...

3. Thou shalt only use photographs from the old pre-baby days when launching a new product because like, people are stupid and won't even know the difference. Just perve and pay, people.

Did I miss any?

Comedy 101

So I'm working my way through the magnificent collection-a-la-comedy at our local video store, taking notes and getting mega-inspired. I figure if I can't get out to the great comedy here in Canada yet (but when we finally get a car: LOOK OUT!), then the great comedy shall come to me.

This week I've been in a Saturday Night Live kinda mood, so have been stuck into the best of Gilda Radner and John Belushi respectively. While the comedy does seem to have dated a little, their commitment has certainly not. Holy freaking mustard tarts, (on which note, I certainly hope there is no such thing), they didn't call Belushi the master of kamikaze comedy for nothing.

I wanted to find you this amazing clip of him set in a graveyard, it's really poignant - especially given how things turned out in his actual life - but youtube couldn't seem to find it for me. I would spend more time hunting it down, but my son is already clawing at my leg trying to pry me away from the computer, so I fear to waste more time here might result in him starting to eat it. Then again, that would be an easy way to lose weight...

You know you're in Canada when...

...you walk down the main street, only to have your path crossed by a coyote. Yes, that's right. A coyote.

Feel free to add your own 'you know you're in Canada when' below.

ThirdCat, this is for you...

Ooh, baby baby it's a wild world...

After reading this post on Rockstar Mommy, I have made the rash (yet I prefer to consider it rash-ional) decision to remove all photos of my kids from my photo collection available here.

I'm not going to comment any further on the sick state of the world that even makes this an issue - there's nothing I can say that hasn't really already been said anyway - but suffice to say that this now means a few things for CM readers, namely either:

a) Nothing. You don't give two rats nipples' about the photos anyway.

b) A minor disappointment, given how super-super cute my kids happen to be and how much you enjoy seeing them evolve. Ah. Sometimes I wish I could simply enjoy them only in the silence of image form too....

c) A major catastrophe, leaving you with a Comic-Mummy's-kids-shaped-hole in your heart. If that really is the case then you are either:

i) a fruit-loop, in which case my reasons for doing this are justified; OR
ii) a friend (and that includes blogging buddies!), in which case please just drop me a line and I can add you to my flickr friends and/or just make sure you're hooked up with me on Facebook. I'm happy to keep posting but only to fam and friends now. That's right - I may pimp out my babies, but from now I'm keeping it in da hood. Or something.

Who did I say was the fruitloop?

*PS This also means that most of the flickr photos are now going to be of me, thus exposing my madly inflated ego for what it is. Yikes...I'd better start taking more landscapes...