We Killed in New Haven

New Haven was wonderful. I got to meet other great storytellers, got to sit next to an actual actress/storyteller I like (Joanna Gleason, from Crimes and Misdemeanors and about a hundred other things), and on top of everything else I got paid to do it. But the best thing was the crowd. I told my story of "The Most Heartwarming Wet T-Shirt Contest Ever" and it killed like nothing I've ever told before in any other crowd. I would crack a joke and a wall of laughter appeared. I pushed against it slightly with a philosophical note, and the people moved back and thought. I added a funny aside, and they laughed again, and waited for my next move forward. It was amazing. I've never felt so in control of a performance and at the same time so overwhelmed by my oneness with an audience. Another top ten life experience. (Another great thing was meeting and hanging out with my dear friend Dani, but that's a tad more personal.)

The downside: After Friday, my sleep schedule was so fucked up that I was still recovering, and staying out late with Dani and fellow storyteller Paul Bacon didn't help. The next day, after we boarded the train, I stumbled home and slept until 3 p.m., then woke with every muscle throbbing in weariness. Really, it was all I could do to prop myself up and watch "The Office" and some Netflix (Silk Stockings, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir) until about 8, at which point it was tough to get anything done. So I'm definitely swearing off Paxil and its evil, sleep-wrecking ways until I get this book done. Damn.

I hope to post a version of "The Story I Told This Weekend" soon.