Last fall, I sat down for lunch with a blogging friend whom I’d known for years but never had the chance to actually meet in person. During our conversation, she mentioned that Listen to Your Mother would be holding auditions for their first show in metro Detroit. She smiled and asked me, “You’re going to audition, right?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, not really.”
That’s how I found myself in a busy downtown Detroit coffee shop last January waiting to read a profanity-laced essay about the first days of motherhood to three lovely women whom I had no business cursing to at all. On top of that, when I get nervous and have to speak in front of people, I jack up the volume of my voice. I’m positive they appreciated me shouting the word “DICK” at them full-blast while the hipster at the table next to us drank their latte and gave us the side-eye.
Since then, I’ve been to rehearsals, sat for head shots, and recited my words on the same stage that Eminem recited his years ago. The women in my show have seen and experienced things I pray I never will. I went home and checked my Twitter feed for #LTYM, and holy shit, did you know this show was a such a big deal? Because I sure as hell didn’t. So, considering all this, let me ask you, Constant Reader:
Exactly what the fuck am I doing here?
Because honestly? This is not my thing. For starters, I’m not a serious writer. I’m a goofball. I write suuuuuuper dumb shit on the Internet for free. For instance, I’m not getting paid a goddamn thing to write this paragraph right now. Who the hell does that? If my boss asked me to write a report for her on my off hours, I’d tell her to kiss my ass and enjoy the scenery. Yet here I am, almost 3am typing away and setting myself up for an awful Monday morning just to finish this post.
Also, this kind of flashy stage thing is not why I got into blogging. When I started this blog back in 2009, it was just to have a place to put the weird lists and stories I came up with in my head while I sat in the stacks at work finishing my shelf reading. However, it has grown over the years to become something much bigger than that. It’s a way to make people laugh, which seriously delights me to no end. Chasing that particular dragon has gotten me in trouble more times than I can count (up to and including this show). It’s also a place where I can figure out how I feel about the heavier shit I deal with as a parent, and hopefully connect with other people who recognize that shit as their own shit as well.
But really, that’s what Listen to Your Mother is all about. Instead of checking pageviews and waiting for people to comment (or not comment) on a post, I get to see and hear their reaction in real-time. I get to make people laugh (dear Christ I hope) and hopefully make a connect with them as well. I also get to wear a $60 dress from ModCloth, but don’t tell Rob I spent that much money on it or he’ll flip his shit.
So yeah, I guess this really is my thing. I am so proud to be a member of the first metro Detroit cast of Listen to Your Mother, and am completely grateful that the directors never figured out which one of them fucked up and put me on the “Yes!” list. Personally, I suspect the blonde one.
Come see me and the other fabulous, talented, definitely-not-mistakenly-cast storytellers this Sunday, May 4 at Saint Andrews Hall in Detroit! Readers will get a free look of disbelief and polite conversation despite me not believing anyone outside of my immediate family reads this blog.
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter so you never miss a post. Better yet, pop your email address in the box at the top of the page and subscribe! Also, you can read my essays in the new book I Just Want to Be Alone, and also in You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth!