Die Vampire, Die ([title of show])

Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to my new blog. I turn 29 in one month and I'm going to use the last year of my twenties to full on pursue my career in the arts before I decide to give it up forever. Check it out.

http://LastChanceYear.blogspot.com

Dites-Moi (South Pacific)

Some things I've been up to:

I moved in to a real place. With roommates. I don't know what I was thinking. It's cheap. I'm cheap right now. I'm going to go crazy.

I saw a boy looking at me at work, so I decided to not be a pussy and give him my phone number. The next day, I was walking into the subway and noticed a guy checking me out. On a roll, I decided not to be a pussy and checked him out back. We talked. He was in town from San Francisco on a conference. He came back to my place.

I auditioned for a straight play for which I have a callback tonight. I don't know if I'll get it or not, and I don't really care, but it's nice to have auditioned for something. It's only been almost 2 years.

I've decided maybe not to give up on theatre. I think I'm going to spend this next year focusing on my career. If by this time next year, I'm doing nothing, I'll seriously consider the rest of my life.

In one year and two months (to the day) I turn 30. 30 is the new 20.

I realized yesterday that I have performed as an actor, a singer, a dancer, and a stand up comedian, and I have directed, choreographed, and produced. So why should I feel so unaccomplished?

I am grateful to be working for a children's theatre company that continuously rehires me.

I am on the hunt for a sugar daddy.

Bad, Glad, Good and Had (Got Tu Go Disco)

Bad on me for bringing everyone down with my stupid rant on how I hate that you're happy.  It's great that you're all moving forward.  I should do that do.

I'm glad that I just signed a lease on a new apartment.  Now I can finally stop living in other people's homes and stop worrying about other people's lives.

It's good to have one of my besties living in Toronto again.  It just would be even better to have you here too.

I wish I had the ability to beautifully dance a Mia Michaels piece about a man who's mesmerized by a woman's ass.  I love that this is the concept for this choreography.  Neenia, when you get home we're filming us doing this.  Even the mistakes are forgivable because they recovered completely.

Empty Chairs At Empty Tables (Les Miserables)

I'm sorry.  I know it's wrong of me.  I'm upset at all of you for having fabulous lives, and making wonderful decisions about where you're going, and loving where you are in life.  I'm not there.  It's petty and selfish and uncalled for and wrong and stupid and annoying and qu'est-ce-que fuck of me, but it's what I've been feeling ever since I read all of your newest blog posts.

Why does Alathariel have to go move to England and be with her lovah whom she loves and has hot sex with?  Why did she have to leave me for Vancouver where she auditioned for lots of shows and was smart with money and lost weight and got healthy?  Couldn't she have stayed in Toronto and waited for me to come back from Ottawa?  Couldn't she stay poor and miserable?  Couldn't she wait for me to come back so that she continue be my muse in comedy and musical theatre endeavours?  Doesn't she want to run a theatre company with me where we break the boundaries of type casting?    Doesn't she want to be my comedy partner?  Doesn't she want me to make theatre of all kinds just so that I can have the intense pleasure of watching her perform as often as possible?

Why does Neenia have to tease me by returning to me only to leave again and move to a city that I no longer live near?  Doesn't she want to share a tiny bed with me and perform [title of show] all the time and bounce around the apartment for an hour or two?  Doesn't she want to watch So You Think You Can Dance with me and have mini orgasms over and over as some sexy man dances some sexy way?  Why can't she just stay here and make me laugh and run lines from Grease 2 with me and sing Rent with me and dream about living in New York with me?

Why does Arts Monkey have to come to terms with her age for?  I'm turning her age soon and I'm not comfortable with it.  Why is she?  Why does she have to be living with her folks?  That's my schtick.  Does she have to be pursuing theatre right now?  Does she have to go to Mexico?  Why can't she just come live on the Danforth and teach pilates like I'm doing?  I don't teach pilates, but still.

What's Bedroom Prince gotta go relocate to a new city where he doesn't know anyone for?  Why's he gotta get his PhD?  Why can't I do something life altering like that?

Why do I have to be sitting in sublet after sublet, watching my bank account dip further and further into the red, as my credit card bills sit unpaid for months.  How come I have two jobs and no money?  Why does no one care to dine out downtown anymore?  Why does my mother have to keep giving me money every time I ask for it?  Why do I have to keep asking for it?  It's embarrassing.  Why don't I pursue a career in theatre?  Shouldn't I submit myself for all the shows I hear about that are auditioning?  Can't I just bother to get off my ass and clean and organize my apartment for that I can find my headshot so that I can get some work?  Shouldn't I be going out and meeting boys?  Must I sit at home all the time and only date the ones who ask me out that I'm not interested in until it fizzles out and I end up not dating them anymore by losing contact rather that actually breaking up.

I'm sorry to have invited you to my pity party.  I swear I'm not actually in that bad a place.  I just didn't like your blogs because I miss you like fucking crazy and I worry that I'll never get to live alongside you again.  Me no likey.  You'll have to forgive me if I'm not nice to you for a few days.  All this news at once was too hard to swallow.  I'm whiney.  I'm Skinny Winehouse.  I'm not even witty.

Grease Lightning (Grease)

I moved to the Danforth this weekend.  Don't worry it's just a two month sublet.  I'm not happy about my current whereabouts but I'll take what I can get.  In order to save money on TTC, I've purchased a bicycle.  At first I was afraid - I was petrified - because I haven't really ridden a bike since I was sixteen.  I have to say, though, I'm loving it.  I feel so nice and free when I'm riding through the city on two wheels.  I can be a vehicle or a pedestrian, depending on what best suits my needs at any given moment.  But I biked to and from work today for the first time and I have to say I'm not loving the developing thunder thighs and chaffing of my mangina.

I Love To Cry At Weddings (Sweet Charity)

Last night I attended my second wedding of the year.  I love weddings.  I really do.  And I love that all the weddings I have to attend this year are different than the weddings we're all used to.  The first one was in March, and it was two crazy friends who decided to get married and not tell their families.  They only invited their friends to their City Hall ceremony and Midevel Times reception.  The third wedding will happen in July and will involve that same couple in a hand fasting ceremony at her parent's home in Niagara Falls, which I will be President for (thanks to Gilbert's Girl and Princess Alathariel, I have some experience in this field).  The fourth one I am most excited about  It takes place in Ottawa in August and involves two friends from my Ottawa musical theatre community.  The menus on the tables will look like Playbills and instead of table numbers, the tables will be named after musicals that each of them have worked on (mostly together).  Instead of clinking forks on glasses to make the couple kiss, people will have to stand up and sing a showtune.

Last night's event was my very first Jewish wedding!  When we were entering into the church (church, is it?), we were stopped and told that men had to enter from the other side.  So my friend had to sit alone on one side while I sat with her boyfriend on the other.  Awkward.  We were the only two people not wearing a yamaka.  Apparently they were handing them out but we missed that part because we were running late.  Damn.  I really wanted one.  They all walked down the aisle and stood under the chuppah.  I did not understand a thing that was going on.  The groom was handed this oversized white shawl and wrapped it around himself a few times.  The rabbi sang some stuff in a different language.  Everything was so serious and boring and I was about to fall asleep when all of a sudden the groom stepped on the glass and everyone yelled "Moseltov!"  The band immediately broke into some uptempo traditional Jewish tune and all the men in the room started jumping up and down as the bride and groom followed them up the aisle.  It was wild.  In one second it went from a snooze fest to a wild fiesta.

On the dance floor was a divider.  Men would dance on one side, women on the other.  Odd.  That made me a little uncomfortable.  The bride was the one I was friends with and I wanted to dance with her, but I wasn't allowed to.  I didn't know any males there other than my friend's boyfriend.  Awkward.  They did the chair thing where they bounce the groom up and down.  Then they kidnapped the bride and did the same to her and brought her over to the groom's side.  I thought this meant the wall could now be torn down, but it didn't.  Ugh.  As much fun as everyone else had, my friend and I were bored so we left early.

Weddings always get me thinking about wanting to get married myself.  I don't really care for marriage, and I especially am not one to fight for gay marriage, but weddings themselves are so much fun.  If I were to get married, I know who my best man would be.  We've been friends ever since we were born and my mother is his Godmother.  I couldn't not make him my best man.  Then, instead of groomsmen, I would have six to eight groomswomen, or bridesmaids, if you will.  Last night, at the wedding, I selected them in my head.  One lady from each stage of my life, who has taken me to the next level.  I can't wait to have my wedding.  But I never will.

When It Dries (Two By Two)

Something funny is going on where Languages Boy is concerned.  I've only seen him once in the last two weeks, and it's not because I've been avoiding him.  I was home for Easter for a few days, a couple of weeks back, and then when I got back our timing was always off.  I met with him for lunch on Sunday, and I haven't seen him since.  He spends a lot of time at home now.  He used to always come downtown to see me and sleep over.  He also used to text me every morning and every night, but now I always have to be the one to initiate the text.  How have the tables turned?  Why is he making himself unavailable?  Why is it making me want to see him now?  Do these games really work?  Worst yet - do they work on me?  I never thought they would.  I don't actually think he's playing games.  I don't know what to think.  All I know is I still want to either break things off or just date casually while seeing other people, but I need to see him in person to tell him that and that doesn't seem to be happening!  I have his cardigan.  That's the real issue here.  I need to give it back to him before I can feel comfortable parting ways.

Paris By Night (Victor/Victoria)

I can't stop listening to this song.  It's becoming an obsession.  I know it's about an English boy and an American girl, but the band is clearly French.  I just love it.  I makes me want to go to Paris and have sex with strangers who have romantic accents.  The guy's voice makes me hard.

It's Now Or Never (All Shook Up)

I had the most ridiculously lazy day yesterday.  I was out until 3am, slept at 4:30am, woke up at 3pm, got out of bed at 4:30pm to watch Y&R, and then literally just sat around doing absolutely nothing while piles of clothes sat on the floor, begging to be picked up; receipts and garbage that have been collected on the table since I moved into this joint pleaded to be organized so that I can start my taxes for last year, the year before, 2004 and 2003; my phone sat by my side, waiting to be picked up for me to call my tax guy to finally make an appointment; my teeth cried out for a toothbrush, my stomach screamed out "FEED ME, YOU FUCKING LAZY MANOREXIC!"; and my gym membership committed suicide in my wallet.  I did nothing, not even eat, until 8:30pm, when I managed to walk across the street to grab some Wendy's.  I hate Wendy's.  What the fuck is wrong with me?  I'm listening to Die Vampire Die right now.  I'm going to sleep now.  I will wake up before 11am, I will do laundry, I will go to the gym.  Fuck you, Vampire of Laziness!  I will also eat!  I promise me that!  I'll fucking eat fucking eating Vampire fuck you!

Push Da Button (The Colour Purple)

I like going home to Ottawa.  I've already returned to Ottawa about four times since I left two and a half months ago.  It's good to return and see all my friends and sleep in my bed with my Madonna posters from the early 90s starring down at me, and my framed Michelle Pfeiffer magazine covers hanging on my wall greeting me with open arms.  It's nice to know that I can go back and forth between O Town and the T Dot and be able to just slip back into either lifestyle as though I had never left.

On a completely separate note, every time I mention Languages Boy to anyone, I downplay how I feel about him.  I'm very aware that I'm sabotaging our relationship before it becomes anything.  I'm going to stop doing that.  I'm going to stop thinking about seeing other people and just enjoy the boy sleeping in my bed.  I will not find reasons to doubt what I am doing with him.  I do like him.  I need to just enjoy him and us.  Now to go back to Toronto on Tuesday with this new attitude...

One Plus One Equals Three (Side Show)

Things are going well with Languages Boy.  I really like him.  He really likes me.  I can get over the fact that he's so young.  I can get over the fact that he doesn't have hair on his chest.  I can get over the fact that he talks during movies.  Ok, I can't get over that, but I can not to go to the movies with him ever again in my life.  I just have one issue.  Just one.  I don't think I want to be monogamous.  I know, right?!  Me, not monogamous?  The thing is, I'm being very careful to take this slowly.  I'm not introducing him to my friends.  I'm not spending every day with him.  I just feel that I don't want to commit to someone right now when so many people are attracted to me right now.  You know what I mean?  Like when I'm single, I can never find anyone to pay attention to me.  Then as soon as one person shows interest and I like them back, everyone comes out of the woodwork and wants to make out.  I want to make out back!

There are two guys that I recently broke things off with.  One guy was the black guy.  Most boring person I've ever met in my life!  Literally no conversation to be had.  But between the sheets... that was nice.  Then one day in late January he came on my new sheets and I stopped texting him and started screening my phone calls.  It's been two months since I've made any contact with him and he'd spend most of February trying to contact me.  Then two days ago, I accidently logged into MSN, where be immediately started up a conversation.  I apologized for my behaviour and called myself an asshole, and said that I'm seeing someone now and can not go on seeing him.  Dude was totally understanding and called me sweet and cute and said he still wants to be friends!  Say what?!  Boring guy wants to just be friends?  No thanks.  I explained to him that my attraction to him is too great and that it would not be fair to Languages Boy.

Second dude I was dating was Obnoxious Guy who I got a kick out of but not in a sexual way.  I broke it off with him when I started up with Languages Boy, by telling him I just want to be friends.  He understood and we hung out as friends and all was good.  Until this past week when he started getting making advances again.

Add in all the guys I've been meeting and resisting, when I know there is mutual interest, sexual or romantic.  Ugh, I would like to make things work with L.B.  But I also want to get some fooling around out of my system.  I moved back to Toronto expecting to be all slutty.  I want to be slutty!  I worry that I can't ask L.B. to be casual and non-exclusive right now, because he's made it clear that he has no interest in making out with anyone else.  Even though I said it was ok!  The burden of romance.  I'm really not convinced that I'm ready for this.  I'm actually a little worried that I'm going to end up cheating on him.  I don't want to do that.  It's not me.  Bah.

Disneyland (Smile)

Ugh, ok, I really don't want to bring this up here because whenever I mention something like this on my blog it ends up being over before it began.  I've started dating a boy.  A boy I like.  No, but like really this time.  I've been dating a lot lately, but never anyone I've been interested in.  I kept the black guy around, even though he was really boring and had nothing to say, because we were rill good together between the sheets.  But then he came all over said sheets and I stopped returning his calls and texts.  He just had to go and ruin the one good thing we had.  Then I started up with this loud, obnoxious, but very entertaining dude.  We went out a couple of times but had yet to kiss or even hold hands.  We were to have a real date last wednesday.  The Saturday preceding it, I met the boy.  He cornered me in a club, and introduced himself.  He pulled me away from my friends and we talked.  I was not interested in this kid.  How old was he, sixteen?  Not my type at all.  He told me he is twenty three and studies linguistics at U of T.  I asked him how many languages he speaks.  Eight.  That's right, English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian, Latvian, German (I think) and some Italian, with a little Mandarin and Inuktituk (sp?!) mixed in.  Hot.  We conversed in Spanish.  RILL HOT.  Then we made out a lot and I ditched my pals and left with him and his friends.  Tuesday he came to see my show, Wednesday I broke things off with the other guy, Thursday we made out for two hours in a movie theatre and last night at my place, and this afternoon we had lunch.  He thinks I'm cute.  He thinks I'm sexy.  But like really.  Like he can't believe how cute and sexy I am.  How is this possible?  I'm even finding him cute and sexy.  I don't want to see other people, but I also kind of do want to see other people still.  I need to take this slow, right?  I'm so hot for him and it's so unexpected.  But there are some cons that I'm looking for.  Like he's a pothead who smokes weed every day.  He hangs out with nineteen year olds who act like nineteen year olds.  He has had over one hundred sexual partners.  He thinks, he's lost count.  He also has mannerisms that I'm starting to notice remind me of someone I used to fuck around with.  These are really sexy mannerisms to me, but they also bring up really weird mixed feelings.  The pros are that he does not enjoy anal sex (yay!) and has rarely ever done it.  He's very worldly.  He not only speaks all those languages but he has travelled extensively.  He's quite educated and learned and interesting.  He is super warm for my form.  He turns me on.  I'm excited to see where this goes, but I'm also going to do my best to take things really slowly.  Blog, you best not jinks me this time!

Sleep, Baby, Don't Cry (Carib Song)

Another young life was taken way too soon.  An awesome guy that I used to work with passed away last week.  He was younger than me.  This is sad.  Every time a life is taken and I read or hear the words of their loved ones, or see their faces, I can't help but picture my own friends and family at my own funeral.  It's kind of a depressing thought, but for me, it's actually heart warming, because I know that my funeral would be filled with countless people that I have loved and who've loved me.  It feels good to know that I have so many amazing friends and acquaintances that I've gotten to know in my lifetime.  I may have about 700 friends on Facebook, but that's not just for show, in fact, I'm struggling to keep it under 700.  I actually know every one of those people in some capacity or another.  Whenever my Facebook friends list gets to big I start deleting.  My one criteria is, if I die, will I this person need to know about it or want to come to the funeral.  It may sound odd, to me it's a very logical way of thinking.

I've said this in past blogs, but I feel that if I were to die today, I would die a satisfied man.  I have never had a great love, or children, or a thriving, successful career.  But I am extremely proud of the way I have lived my life.  The friends I've made, the places I've travelled, the career I pursued, the chances I took, the character I've built.  I think I'm pretty alright.  The only worry I have about my funeral is that my parents will never have really gotten to know me as well as everyone else in my life.

I've decided that I need to do something.  Now.  Like very, very soon.  I need to write hand written letters to each and every person who has touched me and whom I consider to have been a great friend.  Everyone who has brought some value to my life and who's friendship I have appreciated.  I think it's important to do this.  When I'm dead, I'll know how much you've loved me, but will you know much I've loved you?  I think it would be a great gift.  I won't make up a will because I have nothing except an impressive collection of DVDs and some pictures of Michelle Pfeiffer.  No.  I have to let these people know how much they've meant to me in a letter.  My words.

I'm sorry to have sounded morbid, but if these past few months has taught me anything, it's that it can be anyone, anywhere, anytime.

Morning Person (Shrek The Musical)

I am not a morning person, but I will be soon.  Waking up is hard, especially at 8am with 3 hours of sleep.  Second winds don't last too long.  But tonight I'm in bed earlier than ever, and tomorrow even earlier.  I will make this happen.  I'm doing children's theatre after all.  I get to since Summertime as a grasshopper and dance a Fosse number about the boy who cried wolf.  I get to be a British ant, a New Yorker mouse, a hillbilly rooster, and much more!

2009 is going to be a great year.  It's going to be a responsible year.  Before I left Ottawa I had sat down with a good friend and we told each other the things we think the other needs to work on to improve themself.  So, I'm going to keep my hair short.  Everyone has been telling me how hot I look.  I'm going to start cutting out fast food and buying groceries and eating more healthy.  I've bought Vector cereal, clementines, grapes, bananas, Activia yogurt, nuts and carrots to snack on, and I've started ordering a salad as a side instead of fries.  Baby steps for this guy.

Another one of my things is to date more people that I meet in real life, as opposed to online, and to go on at least three dates with one guy instead of doing my usual one night stand thing.  Totally do able.  I've been feeling so hot and guys have been talking to me.  I feel so good.

Going to the gym?  I went tonight.  Don't ask me about before then, please.

Focus on stand up comedy.  I performed at the Hot Box Cafe last week and I'm submitting myself to the Arab American Comedy Festival in New York as both a comedian and a playwright.  Is that really how you spell playwright?

I've moved into my sublet and holy shit do I love it.  It's amazing.  I couldn't be happier.  I have not lived by myself in three years.  How have I survived?

Oh well, I'm happy now.

They Say He Went To College (Patsy In Politics)

I went to see Milk and now I want to be a politician.  Lord help me.  There must be some pill I can take before going to the movies that will stop me from seeing my future in these protagonists.

My Little World (Thou Shalt Not)

A recent conversation with a friend made me realize how lucky I am because I haven't experienced any discrimination in my life.  It's actually pretty stunning that I managed to live twenty eight years as the gayest gay to ever gay without ever being gay bashed or harassed or put down or rejected.  Or maybe I have and I chose to see a different side to it and turn it into a positive thing.  Who knows.  But I can tell you that in elementary school no one ever called me a homo, (that was reserved for a friend of mine that even I used to call "Running Faggot").  And in high school I was only called gay twice and neither time did it bother me.  Seriously, a lot of people who did not know me back then are surprised to hear that I was not a loser in high school.  On the contrary - I was a social butterfly.  Everyone liked me (as far as I know).  I had friends in every social group and always had a different best friend in every class.  If I had to go back I wouldn't change a thing.  Living in Vancouver?  Forget it.  Coming out in Toronto?  Relatively painless.  Work?  I've always been fortunate enough to work with a bunch of chicks who fancied me their best accessory, and all the straight guys I've worked with have been extremely open, gay-friendly people.

Once I was working in the restaurant when a group of about twelve big burly manly men sat in my section.  When I went over to offer drinks, they were still undecided.  Before I could go back, they had all gotten up and left.  A co-worker (a real "how much do you need" type) asked me if I thought they left because they didn't want to be served by me because I'm gay.  She's a fucking idiot.  I explained to her that they didn't seem happy with the menu and they were quite friendly when they told me they weren't ready to order.  This girl has plenty of issues and was clearly only trying to get me to feel bad about myself because she's so insecure herself.  I win.

My brother always used to call me a fag.  But he also was afraid of gremlins and once peed in the corner of our bedroom because he was too scared to walk to the bathroom at night.  He hated me, I hated him.  I took no offense.  I just peed in his shampoo and never told him.

So what is it?  Am I just a super loveable guy that no one would dare try to hurt?  Or do I merely have a super human positive outlook and extremely high self confidence?  Either way, I feel so fortunate to have been able to live my life as a faggot with plenty of ease.  Now if only I could get my parents to accept me...

If I Had Any Sense (Five Guys Named Moe)

Me and my fucking brain, changing its ideas every five fucking minutes.  Here's what's currently in store for me.  Who knows where the hell 2009 will take me.  Hopefully Burger King.

So I'm moving back to Toronto in a couple of weeks!!!  Yay!  I have a wicked one bedroom to sublet for the length of my contract.  That's set.  I have the gig.  That's also set.  I have the part time job at the restaurant.  That's set.  But what happens after May?  Here's what might.

I'll be submitting to the Arab Comedy Festival.  That's hot.  It's in New York City in May.  I want to get in so badly.  Why the fuck wouldn't I get in?  I'm pretty amazing.

I also plan on moving to Argentina.  I'm sorry, what?  Did you say Argentina?  Why, yes, thank you, I did.  Why?  I don't know.  Why do I do anything?  I've just recently realized that out of all the places I've been around the world, I've never been to South America.  Then I got this bizarre desire to focus on Buenos Aires (it's the Paris of South America, after all, and I really want to get off a train singing "What's New Buenos Aires" and then have a bunch of sexy latinos dance me around a dance floor.)  Then I realized I could get a transfer and work at a Hard Rock down there.  That's pretty sweet.  Built in job, fluent in the language, ready to lose my virginity.  It's all adding up.  What the hell, right?  So that's been my focus for the last week.  I also might use a different path to get there and go as an English teacher.  Which brings me to my other random thoughts of late.

I want to be a teacher.  But for reals.  I'm thinking of putting performing on the back burner temporarily and going back to University do complete a double major in English and Spanish.  Then do teacher's college and get a job as a high school English/Spanish/Drama teacher.  Or go abroad and teach English at a rich kid's private school.  Or get a job at an Embassy.  Or as a translator.  Or just travel for the rest of my life while working at Hard Rock Cafes.  The only flaw is that I'll be thirty four when I graduate.  Is that weird?  Then I realized I'm almost thirty.  Then I realized, do I really act or feel twenty eight right now?  Then I realized, no, I don't.  I feel that girl in theatre school who always lied about her age.  I'll just tell people I was born in 1990 and they'll think I'm starting my twenties instead.  Sound good?  Keep my secret, yes?

I also really want to do the Second City conservatory when I go back to Toronto, but you kinda have to do all the classes consecutively which means being in Toronto for a year at a time.  That could either throw a wrench in my Argentina plan or it could mean Argentina will throw a wrench in my stand up comedy plan.

Do I really want to be a teacher or do I want to be a stand up comedian?  Can I do both?  Where the hell did musical theatre go?  I want to get on TV.  Lord, please let me have it all, will ya?  Lord?  Can I be not be a stand up comedian teacher from Argentina living in New York as a slutty nanny?

Blog again.

Everyone Has AIDS (Lease)

For my Christmas present to myself, I went to get my very first STD test.  Before going in I tried to figure out who all my sexual partners were and I realized I've had many more than I realized.  Twenty sexual partners, seventeen of them went down on me, nine of whom I reciprocated, and I engaged in anal penetration with none of the above.  I'm currently awaiting the results.  I'm quite eager, even though I was told in the pre-test interview that my situation is low risk.  I was giggling in my head the whole time thinking of Sarah Silverman.  How long do these things usually take?