Namaste- Away From Me Right Now!

Oh boysies has it been a while (rhetorical). Mama (me) will write more when she gets her new laptop (by 2012!)... until then...

I do yoga by donation at a place here in San Francisco. I highly recommend this space to people who want to go to yoga, but are on a budget. However, I see where yoga has just turned into a form of Jesus on the plate of a cynical public, hungry for some authenticity and a little less "OM" (or horse breath). I felt like Carrie Bradshaw just then.

I go to yoga and have been for ten years... I even participated in a teacher training a few years back... did I decide to teach? No, because yoga isn't salvation (also I didn't pay in full, so was never really certified) and the people in it are no better (energy wise) than the Greyhound Bus Stop half way between here and the next Clan Rally. People who go into something like Yoga believing that breathing extra loud will give them some relief to what they're trying to drown out are really just like the homeless people they secretly despise- loud and yucky! This has been a huge statement lately- people SCREAM BREATHING. I bring my destructive friends so their back can get stretched and that they may feel the endorphins released by having a supple, stretched body instead of an 8-ball. After most classes lately, I know they are going right back to sauce and spice and I'm not talking Paneer, Slumdog!

I love an instructor who mostly keeps his or her mouth shut (not likely to happen with most women instructors, I know). Just guide the class and stop telling the same tired jokes you tell every class to help people escape from their discomfort. Stop trying to make this "better" for people- IT ISN'T! It isn't good for people, that's why we're here (yoga) and no amount of New-Age-bull-shit-chuckle jargon is going to make the experience more "authentic".

I suppose this is a bit of a rant, but I farted in yoga once... HA! Look- a funny little fart joke. I love going to yoga, but if I wanted to go to a comedy open mic- I would.... uhhhh, oh yeah. I go to open mics about 6 times a week, so NAMASTE away from the jokes and let me listen to my own breath for a moment. THAT is why I am here... and that is what experience I hope my friends have. Just be quiet and stop encouraging the entire class to express their breath with loud sighs and horse mouth... happy babies are quiet babies, so let's stop pretending they need to lion's breathe in a higher octave to get back to innocence.

Alright, Mama (me) is off to a comedy mic to tune out the same fucking jokes I always hear from people I should probably not like as much as I do and hopefully cultivate something new for myself.

xoxox

Abbey

RALLY TO JUMBOTRON!

Oh hey there boob-tubers! Abbey Jordan here, fresh off the the stage (7 hours ago "fresh") at the 2010 Rally To Restore Sanity in San Francisco. I performed with my friend, Sean and with 30 people attending, the only thing more inappropriate than calling it a "Rally" would be to call it a "Rally Against Overpopulation".

I like the idea of there being a rally against population and only 15 people attend, but it still boasts a jumbo-tron. Even more though, I like that I performed in The Rally To Restore Sanity, 13 people attended and they had a jumbo-tron!

Truth is, the rain was coming down so hard and people are like cats... you know, with a tail and nine lives... where my Hindus at?! Everybody who was there, was there because they care too much- or they were being paid to perform (me and Sean) and I got on stage and told them how dumb they were. When I first got up and said: On my way here I asked everybody I saw if they were coming to this rally... they said "what rally?" [exploding laughter comes from the audience rolling 11 deep] and I told them "I DON'T KNOW!" At this point, the crowd (10 people) laughed so hard they vomited and then, gave me a standing ovation. Haters might say "it was raining and there wasn't seating", but I'd like to tell those insecure women (obviously) that if I brighten the rainy day of 9 people, then let's just be happy for all of us... because collectively, that makes a brighter day for the whole world- except China.

I took some video of this 5 person festival, there was some of my performance, but Sean Keane (who went before me and took video of me) couldn't stop narrating my set/ being overtly gracious to the three people in the "crowd" who turned to acknowledge his set. I am just going to post something that was filmed before either one of us went up. In this video you will see a male tribal-fusion-belly dancer. This guy is like Thomas the Train and he's pulling heavy cargo! I mean: he was first and we followed him (like a cult!). That's okay because NO ONE SHOWED UP!

This was a bizarre, fun experience and I wish EVERY DAY had a Rally for me to perform in front of even if it were attended only by fetuses!

Enjoy!

Oh Thursday, being wasted is so "Friday" of you.

This just in my head: Maybe a guy binge drinking on a Thursday isn't so much "sad" as he is "innovative".

THE WEEKEND ISN'T EVEN HERE YET! A trend setter, the next day- EVERYONE is doing it (even pregnant people). Clearly this guy is someone to be looked up to, just ask my ex-boyfriend (also ask him if he got tested, so I don't have to).

A widely held belief is that a disease drives people to drink... or me (Hi Mom).

GET READY FOR "THIS IS LIKE THAT":

A Wednesday drunk is the Mark Zuckerberg of liver failure! He get's up, goes to work (unless he's committed), maybe he throws one down before brushing his teeth- maybe he doesn't brush his teeth. This guy doesn't smoke, but takes "smoke breaks" plugging away at his passion. He knows that sometimes you have to juggle your daily obligations with your personal ambitions and it's not really "stealing company time" if you're all balanced and shit. Tuesday drunk, well that's next level shit... over my head, so I wont presume to lend voice to it.

There is another side to this trend: the Sunday/ Monday drinkers... The weekend is really over, but they can't let go. S&M drinkers are Bruce Willis to the early 2000's. They've been riding The Fifth Element well into a regular spot on Friends, but they also know that Live Free Or Die Hard is a fun movie, making failed relationships and a disappointing existence worth the Whole Nine Yards.

It's Thursday and I ate a pint of ice cream... I like to think I am working on being a supportive wife to an important man, having "pregnancy cravings". Manifest Destiny over here!
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Is That A Peanut or A Baby?!

Alright gang! So, people have been asking me (a little bit too many people for the pay I get) how I am able to get in front of hundreds of people and do my comedy jokes without completely turding. Here's the scoop ladies, I vomit after meals. Oh sure, we all do... and why not?! All the fun with no consequences! Well...

Almost no consequences.

Did I ever tell you about the baby I lost to vomiting? I was 2 days ago old and just throwing up a pound (or 7lbs) of food in the toilet at the gas station (where I shower to keep the water bill down). There, on top of my pile of "healthy" (no girl wants to hear she looks "healthy") snacks was the fetus of my unborn child... or a peanut. I was so saddened by this loss! I had no idea I was pregnant and this just came as a huge blow to my future... mainly because I haven't had sex in 6 months, so this was surely the second coming of Christ that I purged from my sleek, emaciated belly. surely.

I believe God chose to surprise me with the next Jesus because I am tidy, hard-working and have curly hair. I hope I get another chance!

ARCHIVED TREASURE

I was writing out a sketch in my Google Documents this evening and I came across an unfinished gem... I preface with this, because I am not nearly as boy crazy or skinny as I was when I wrote it. I like to think my BRAIN weighs more, but my pants have their OWN opinion. Okay... enjoy!

I have to write this. If I don't write this, nothing will happen in my life. If I had a car, it would have a bumper sticker that would read: I would rather be doing crunches.

I love writing. I love laughing at ideas I come up with. I love getting feedback from people that they really like what I do... I L O V E that more than men, but barely. I am at the coffee shop I have made my hub for optimism city. All the cuties are here, or should be, because I am.... I am here, just working away on my own thing.

"look at her, she's so in her power."

Yeah, I am and nothing can stop me, except the Grecian beauty steaming milk right now. I will give up on all my goals to have his babies (he stopped steaming and is right next to my table as I type... what if he reads this and gets a boner?!)? "What if" indeed. If he got a boner, I would probably continue typing about how I wish he had a boner. I would just drill away at creating my own happiness as an independent woman (thanks Beyonce!) and he would want me so much more.

"How is she so comfortable with herself? She seems way too young to be so cool."

I love that he thinks so highly of me. He seems to have his own goals... he's quiet, but friendly, probably good with money... maybe he has a camera and wants to travel. We should go somewhere warm because I want to wear a bikini all the time. I love working out my stomach muscles and wish I lived in New York because then I could just wear crop tops and it wouldn't be an issue at all. I would wear these tiny things and then be grossed out when unattractive men looked at me... THE NERVE!

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Authors Musings

Ladies, if you're nice to men you'll get raped socially with unwanted advances... so dress as skanky as you like, but for GOD SAKE (and your own) be a cunt about it. Who cares what people think?!

Um Bears.

I nanny... and kids can't take vitamins like a self-actualized woman (myself- SHUT UP DAD!), so the "man" makes them in gummi bear form. He calls them "Yummi Bears" more like "Yummi Bears"! aaaamiright ladies?!?
"Yummi Bears" more like "Ummi-employment Bears"!

Abbey, why would you say "Ummi-employment"? Oh, I'm glad I asked! I say that because I'm over here eating all this kid's vitamins. If the serving says two, I figure I can take 4 because I am a BIG GIRL. I am not eating sweets right now (or meat, cheese or coffee), so this poor kid's vitamins seem like a gelatin loop hole that stretches to fit me through it... and it better because I am packing 7 extra pounds in yummi bear weight! I have VALIDATED eating Yummi Bears because they're vitamins. I haven't validated the sweat in my palms at the thought of the parents discovering my hand in the Yummi jar. Sure, there's a cookie jar, but I am on a cleanse PEOPLE!!! At one point they moved the vitamins to a different shelf, probably just to make room for all the organic treats they stock up on, but I found them and thought "HAHA- can't fool me! I have a nose for Yummi Bears!"

I only have so much time before this kid wakes up and there is laundry to do, so I will go fold my employers underwear and boxers, pretending I don't want to take care of my own husband. JK! Who has time for romance when I am so focused on my career?!

Ummi Bears take me away.

Addicted To "Love"

It has been months, hasn't it? Sorry it's taken so long, you've probably forgotten about me. No? You want to try again? I should tell you about my relationships then.

I have had a terrible time with my boyfriend, the only time he says "I love you" is when I slip him ecstasy. He would say it pretty regularly, but now his dick is soft and he's started doing heroin. While he's awful cuddly there's not a whole lot of "me" time. I'll be like "honey, let's go to the mall!" and he'll be like drooling with his eyes rolled back into his head. Boys are weird!
My favorite part of that story is that I am with a drug addict... better than a "rug addict", which is what I typed before I realized I forgot the 'd'. Have I ever told you about the time I was in love with a rug addict?

Michel was an arms dealer with a penchant for fine floor coverings. We met at a small patisserie in the West Nile when I gave up on Atkins (AGAIN!). There he was, in a chair uncomfortably close to a young family, hunched over a catalogue filled with- what else: breast implants. I saw my chance... I sauntered over, casually eating flakey croissant- I leaned over the family of three and whispered "I hear the Vatican is hiring a new Pope." As my intelligent, albeit ill-informed, words showered wet bread all over his grey, mustard stained sweatshirt I noticed his eyes fixate on my exposed chest. "Those are some AK-47 tit bags you have!" I loved him, right then. I knew he loved me too, because I slipped him ecstasy and I felt so pretty.

I am a bit of a health person, so having all these drug addict boyfriends really stumps me. I decided to take myself off the market for quite awhile, until I meet someone famous and trick them into loving me. I am sure I will love again, but he has to be famous, because I will not date another man who is unaccountable... or a rug addict.