Hi. How are you? Thursdays, am I right? It's crazy to think that there are just a couple more days of me sitting here and blogging like the wind here on the Powell's site. This past Monday seems a world away. We were just kids then, weren't we? And it seemed like anything was possible. And — ha! — what was I thinking with the hair? Live and learn, I guess. At least we'll be able to look back and laugh at the funny pictures for a long, long time to come.
Anyway, it's my second day back in New York City after my brief West Coast invasion, and I am settling back into things reasonably well, despite all those weird stares I keep getting for some reason. I go to the same coffee shop, Grounded, in the West Village, pretty much every day when I'm in town. It's great. I saw Glenn Close there once and everything, something that — being a guy from Cleveland and all — really makes a morning special (you know, because of the glitz and the glamor). Today, I decided to anonymously buy an everything bagel for everyone in the place and then just walk out the door like I was the goddamn Lone Ranger or something. It's a power move I've been getting into lately, what with me being an author and all now. Expensive, sure, but the look on people's faces when they realize they are about to enjoy a delicious bagel (toasted) entirely free of charge makes it worth every penny.
Last night, I did that show I mentioned in yesterday's entry at Union Hall in Park Slope. The bill included me, the great Jon Glaser, Streeter Seidell, Erik Bergstrom, and Dan Wilbur, all comedians who have also written books, the theme of the show. For my part, I ended up telling a story about how a homeless guy dumped an entire Gatorade bottle filled with urine (his, presumably) on me in the subway a couple weeks ago. It's touching, trust me. And, sadly, true. I've got the dry cleaning bill to prove it. Life, right?
After the show, Jon Glaser and I headed into the night to watch game four of the Stanley Cup. I'm a big hockey fan (I'm a 1/4 Canadian. I have no choice), but I'm not really into the Kings or the Devils, so I'm not necessarily rooting for anyone. That said, I was glad the Devils won because that means there will be more hockey to watch, which is great for me, a guy who totally likes doing that kind of thing. Jon and I watched a little of the game at a bar before heading over to our friend Patrick Borelli's, a writer at the Jimmy Fallon show, to watch the third period. Patrick has a wife and a dog, but it seemed like neither of them were that into the game. Even so, I'm pretty sure everyone had a really nice time, and Patrick only asked me to leave because he was tired, not because of what happened.
I should probably wrap this up now because I am writing this from work. Against all odds, a few weeks ago I took a job writing on an as-yet-untitled cable television program created by my friends, the unshaven comedy duo of Evan and Gareth. The job will last all summer (unless they find out what I did with the copy machine) and is the first time I've gotten up to go to an office every day in about six years. It's taken some adjusting, but I'm having a lot of fun and am really getting the hang of this putting-on-pants-before-four-in-the-afternoon thing. After being away for a few days doing book tour stuff, though, I actually had to write a note to myself reminding me that I had to go to work at an office the next day. I was afraid I might wake up in my apartment and just sit there scratching myself for a few hours like I normally do instead, oblivious to the existence of this new life I am briefly leading. So far, it's working out great. Today I didn't even need the note. It's a great, great feeling. I might even go grab a sandwich with my co-workers in a few minutes and everything. I'll let you know how it goes. I think tomorrow might be Casual Friday, but I'm not really sure.