Yesterday I got up in the morning super whiny and (period) crampy and spesh. I would have liked to stay in bed watching Twin Peaks indefinitely but my friend was visiting from Seattle so I wanted to hang out with her before the 2:00 Janeane Garofalo/The State show. I took a bunch of ibuprofen hoping I wouldn’t have to bump it up to oxytown and get really stupid. After hanging out with Holly and learning some new tricks on the skateboard (it’s a little indulgent to even call them tricks, it’s almost like calling turning a burner on “a cooking trick.”) I headed back to my home to shower before The State. I developed ridiculous cramps so I took one of my moron-making oxycodone and showered which became something like being tickled by butterfly wings and the dreams of children as the pill kicked in. I didn’t think I should drive (neither did my housemate who is being educated in the realm of drug counseling and actually CHOOSES to watch videos of people on meth on you tube, easily my worst fucking nightmare of a way to spend free time.) so I rode my skateboard to the BART station in Glen Park. I was wearing sorta tight, narrow jeans, an old winter jacket from the 80’s, high tops and Ray Bans. A total vision in extreme 36-year-old beauty. Also because I was carrying a purse that weighed about 1.5 pounds my balance was kind of off and I was skating like someone spiked my Sanka with Jim Beam. But just a little.

I got off the train at Civic Center and rolled over to 401 Van Ness where Beth was waiting. Because my brain felt like toy horses going up and down on gold poles I was concentrating really hard on not falling. As I saw Beth she started laughing and said, “You look like a drug addict!” This gave me endless delight, it was such a great thing to say, and she went on to explain that it was the combination of my sunglasses being on the end of my nose, my old dirty jacket, my hair scraggly blowing in the wind and being off-balance. My parents would be so proud.

As we watched the interview onstage I really felt like I was a snowy tingly empty television channel. But I do know the interview was fascinating, everyone was incredibly funny and insightful. I especially liked the stories about doing everything wrong with all their initial successes, like continuously saying they didn’t think anyone would watch their show on CBS to the people at CBS. And walking away from their contract with MTV. Afterward Beth and I went to rehearse for our shows this Friday and Saturday, January 30th and 31st (www.sfsketchfest.com), and it was all I could do to try to be normal (HA! Good one!) and remember my lines, though it did occur to me that if the effort paid off, it was going to be a much longer road to sobriety. My cramps ramped back up eventually and I took another hard drug. I know I’ve said this in pretty much every entry I’ve written because all I do is write about drugs like a 16-year-old but I truly don’t understand how anyone can stand to be a pill abuser. I felt so shitty and stupid. I would take a small amount of anxiety over being so horribly dulled by narcotics any day.

At 5:45 we headed to Fillmore Street for dinner with Beth’s brother. We went to a place specializing in Roman cuisine. It was completely great, especially the Brussel sprouts. We drank a bunch of wine. I thought that was an excellent choice on my part. It just seemed like, if I was already dull, why not entirely shrug the burden of my brain and body by having a few drinks? Why not. Why. Not. We made it over to Cobb’s for the Stella show which was also fantastic. They brought up a bunch of guest comedians, all high-quality. We especially loved Tig Notaro. Who are you, Tig? You are great.

I could barely speak by the end of the night owing to a successful dulling of my brain and intense fatigue. Cool, right? I got home and fell asleep next to my laptop which had its own pillow.