five.

I can’t say I wish I had more time to write here, because I’m pretty happy with what is keeping me so busy right now. But it’d be nice to have more time here to write down what life has been like, mostly for me to have later (because this is supposed to be a diary, after all). I’m back at work on the Oxygen show for a few weeks, doing rewrite work on the pilot, and that has been much more fun than I could have predicted. I’m finishing a recap. I’m finishing the latest draft of the WGAW screenplay. I’m working on the book revisions. And in a couple of days I leave for Aspen.

Valentine’s Day, 2000. I’d just returned home from the Aspen Comedy Festival, having gone due to an invitation to see everyone who got in instead of me or my troupe, and I got dumped. “I’m moving out. I love you like I love my brother. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

If only Me now could have just appeared in that bedroom where I cried my eyes out that night, just to comfort that girl for one evening. I didn’t have to remember what I’d said, because it might have jinxed the future. But if I could have said, “Five years. Just give it five years. I promise, everything will be so much better.” Twenty-five was a really shitty year for me, and that Valentine’s Day kicked it all off hardcore. This Valentine’s I’ll be flying home from performing at the festival with my husband to our home in Los Angeles. So the poems might be a day late this year. I hope you understand.

“Five years. Fuck all of this right now. It’s going to be okay.”

I’ve got to get back to work. I just wanted y’all to know I’m thinking about you, even though I’m a little too busy to stop by lately. Luckily stee‘s been on a bit of a blogging kick. Ah, it’s like old times over there. His life was pretty different five years ago, too.

Anyway, I was thinking about this site and all of you because some of you have been there from the very beginning of it all, and I want to thank you for reading. Just you being there has been a tremendous influence on my life. I feel like I’ve got a responsibility to try not to let you down, to push things a little past when I’m afraid, to try things that are new and different. And because I know you’re there, it keeps this weird job from ever getting lonely. So thanks for that.

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