Last night I saw Eddie Izzard charm the pants off of a VERY well-sold Hollywood Bowl and I’d like to talk about it.

This man may be my favorite comedian in that he is consistently hilarious, his material is familiar but never recycled, he pushes boundaries in a unique and fun way, and I have never, EVER said no to a repeat viewing of any one of his DVDs.  Most of which I’ve seen at least 10+ times.  Plus he’s the first solo comic act to perform at the Hollywood Bowl.  Plus he runs marathons.  Plus he wears lady clothes sometimes.

Sidebar: I always thought it would be so glamorous to date a transvestite.  Maybe not someone who got fully in drag, but someone several leaps past a metrosexual: you help each other with liquid liner, check for errant lipstick smudges, try to out-fab each other in the shoe department, and can walk arm in arm looking like a fashion army.  There is something unbelievably attractive about a man confident enough to say, “I like tailored pantsuits, platforms, and burgundy lipstick.  My skin is exfoliated, my nails are fly, and my hair would make Sparkly Cedric Diggory weep.”  Break me off a piece of that.

Back to comedy.  He opens the show by saying, “I’ll bet no one has ever run to the back before, right?”  And then proceeds to jump off the pool area barrier and run all the way (jumping walls) to the waaaay back of the 17k+ seat arena.  Ballsy, Mr. Izzard.  Ballsy.  All the while wearing a very attractive modern take on a tuxedo jacket with tails—of course, the lining was red.

Now I’m not out to full on review this performance—I loved it.  I loved all of it.  I love everything he does.  He could take a shit and cover it in MAC products (makeup, not iPhones.  Although maybe iPhones too, I like those) and I’d pay money to see it.  It just astonished and inspired me to watch a beloved comic revisit material in a way that is innovative and fresh, while still making little nods to those fans who would appreciate, “I’m covered in bees!”  From his takes on history from the beginning of time onward, to his assessment of Hitler as a “mass-murdering fuckhead,” to his affinity for jam, I was in tears from moment one.

Really, that’s it.  Just expressing my love.

I love you, Eddie Izzard.  Everything there is to love about you.  I loved “The Riches.”  Bet you thought no one remembers “The Riches.”  But I do, Eddie.  Every day, I remember “The Riches.”

Grown-ups go away to a cabin in the mountain for a weekend getaway, right?  They drive themselves, wash their cars in the drive-through wash before the windy incline, they have keys, they make beds, they drink wine and have thoughtful chats in bathtubs, they watch movies on patios while painting nails, they have vacation sex, they wash the bedding and towels and put everything back neatly the way they found it and they don’t argue and they visit old friends and happily chit-chat?  Right?

If this is being an adult, then sorry Peter Pan, I’m kinda on board.

I’m a busy lady.  I would hazard to say that sometimes I am the busiest bee at the ball.  I like things this way.  Let me walk you through my day today: Wake up at boyfriend’s house at 6:15.  Drive to gym, work out for ~40 minutes.  Drive home, shower, get ready for work.  Go to work from 9:30-6:00.  Go to grocery store.  Cook dinner for mom and boyfriend.  Meet up with friends of a friend who are visiting from out of town and have never seen LA.  Go home.  Make a spreadsheet in preparation for my office moving locations.  Go to sleep around 1:30am.

Nothing too crazy in that, but when you add yoga, Saturday morning running group, upcoming Tuesday “Awkward” viewing parties, “True Blood” Sunday evening get-togethers, one home-cooked dinner for a parent (using a new recipe) a week, taking care of two flea-ridden cats, a weekly pilgrimage to the farmer’s market, going to (on average) 2 live music shows a week, seeing movies (maybe one every other week), a monthly brunch group, 3 (count them, T-H-R-E-E) book clubs, and doing my nails once or twice a week, things start to get a little hairy.

So why do I want more?

Why did I let my friend Daniel convince me to sign up for OKCupid?  It’s a dating site (primarily), and I have a boyfriend.  He told me I’d find friends and “activity partners” (who the fuck would ever call someone that?), which I haven’t.  I’ve only found guys who want to date or screw (or both) me.  That fact notwithstanding, I haven’t deleted my account.  I haven’t blocked email notifications.  I haven’t even stopped looking at this website, and it’s not as if I’m looking for something better.  What I have is the most perfect blend of wit and man and ginger and generosity and thoughtfulness and beard and high-fives that I could ever possibly conceive of in my wildest dreams.  None of these lovely OKC men even hold a candle.  So why am I still on it?

Why do I spend a couple weeks steadfastly playing whatever new Zynga game comes out (before eventually getting bored with it and going back to Frontierville)?  That’s the only online game I play at all with any regularity, yet I still let myself get sucked into “Empires & Allies!” “Cityville!”  At least for a while.  Ok, I guess that’s not really a way to be busy, it’s just a waste of my time.  Moving on.

Why do I volunteer for KCRW?  Ok, that’s an easy question, I love KCRW maybe more than 95% of people I know.  I don’t mean I love the station more than they do.  I mean I love the station more than I love them.  ”Anna, you can never hang out with Jessica again ever, EVER.  You can’t be facebook friends.  You can’t follow her on Twitter.  You can’t stalk her at work.  You can’t see her ever again!  Unless you stop listening to KCRW.  Completely.”  ”Fuck you, mean ultimatum-y dude, I’m taking KCRW.  Bye, Jess!”  Everything about it.  Everything except that they stopped airing “Says You” (what the fuck guys, really??  The smartest show on radio).  But seriously, everything.  For the last several years, I have signed up twice a year to come into the station pre-6:00am to answer phones during their pledge drive.  It’s just about 6-7 days a year total, and it’s easy.  So why did I think in my infinite wisdom that I could sign up to be a KCRW Street Team Member this year?  Involving 6 events this month in which I’m expected to come early and leave late and talk to people about the station.  Ok, so I get to go to these shows for free (most are free shows anyway, but that’s not the point) and it’s fun and generally I find KCRW enthusiasts are my kind of people.  But that’s slightly over one day a week in a month in which I find myself having to put yoga classes and gym time into my calendar.  I put “hanging out with brother after wisdom toof surgery” into my calendar.  Like that’s a thing.  Ok so it’s fun and I like these events, but I DON’T NEED THEM!

Why am I signed up on MeetUp.com, Groupon, Trubates, and Groupon-esque sites for green-livers, vegans (I’m not a vegan), pet owners, and friends of the LGBT group?  Nevermind that I rarely have extra money for these fun little coupons, I DON’T HAVE THE TIME.  Yes, I got an awesome weekend vacation for two to Catalina for $250 total, and yes I’m taking a kombucha kamp (yes) workshop to learn how to brew/bottle my own kombucha.  But more often than not I just end up deleting 10+ emails every day.  But not after spending the time to look through each one and remind myself of the Brazillian blowout I could treat myself to, or the wine-tasting trip through Paso Robles on horseback or the holistic cat treats or the vegan nacho cheese or-the-coffee-tables-made-from-repurposed-magazines-and-newspapers-orthedinners(OHTHEDINNERS)!!!!!!!  Sigh.  Deleted (insert Strong-Bad’s voice).

Why did I spend 30 minutes tearfully trying to convince my roommate to adopt Pirate, our ex-neighbor’s cat who was abandoned to live on our front stoop like the most adorable loitering bum who ever existed?  Well that one’s also kind of obvious:  He’s a cat, he’s housebroken, he’s a snuggle bucket, he matches the color scheme of my other two cats (various shades of grey), and most importantly, HE WAS JUST FUCKING LEFT BEHIND LIKE AN OLD BUREAU OR A BROKEN BED FRAME AND THAT MAKES ME SAD.  Reasons roommate gave me why that was a bad idea: the cats might freak out and start peeing everywhere to mark their territory (we just now got the cat pee stench out of the house from the last time we brought in a stray and she pooped everywhere.  Every.  Where.), they might fight and bite and eat each other, more fleas (oh god, not more fleas), and MORE MONEY.  I’d have to take him to the vet, get him examined and shot full of things to make him shiny and happy, washed, etc. using money (and time) that I simply do not have.  I’d need to buy more cat food.  I’d need to buy another litter box.  I’d need to change a third litter box every day.  This is just not a good idea until I can afford these vet charges and a weekly cleaning service.  So now I just cry every time I come home and pet his face and look at his little Charlie Chaplin moustache and white belly.  I like to say Moustache, not Mustache, by the way, so fuck you Spell Check.

Oh my god (sorry to break format) Twitter.  I spend so much time checking Twitter.  I wish there was a way to make a list of people I specifically really want to read so I can filter through those who I follow but don’t need to hear from all the time.  Is there a way to do this?  Am I an idiot?  Can someone show me?  But I swear, it’s like hours a day checking this shit.  While I’m on the crapper.  Making breakfast.  Checking emails.  Jesus Christ, it’s a problem.

Why do I say yes to every invite?  This doesn’t need more explaining, it’s just something that I do.

Now to the meat of this quandry.  Why is it that so many in this generation feel the need to fill their lives with more, more, more?  The more hobbies we pick up, the more five hour energy drinks we drink, the more gusto we have, the more online courses we sign up for “just for shits and giggles,” und so weiter.  I don’t think I spelled that right.  Is anyone out there German?  I know this question has been asked and answered ad nauseum over the past 10 years, and the answer is yes, there are lots of German people in the world.  No, sorry, here goes: I DO understand that the immediateness with which we receive things and information that we once had to wait minutes and even hours (days?  weeks?  MONTHS??  For the love of bandwidth!!!) for is mostly to blame for the fact that our lives now need to mirror the speed of the internet age.  Catch up, people.  

This isn’t going to be a rant that concludes with my needing to relax more and slow down to smell the roses, I relax plenty, thank you very much.  That’s another topic for another day.  The conclusion that I’ve come to is two-fold: #1 I need to stop scheduling things back to back to back to back so that when something finishes and something else is about to begin I’m so tired that I cancel.  It’s a subversive and sneaky version of double-booking oneself.  Cheeky bugger.  #2 I need more money to support almost all of these ventures.  Gas money.  Cat litter money.  Etc.  Mad money, if you will.  And I will.  I’d love to.

Look out for my next post, Banana gets arrested for prostitution.

Grant: Hey

Anna: Hi

Grant: Love

Anna: Like

Grant: Disappointment

Anna: Give me some time

Grant: You’ve been saying that for a long time now.

Anna: You know I’m trying.

Grant: I do know.  I should be more supportive of you in general.

Anna: I know you’re trying.

Grant: What more could I ask for with a girl like you? 

Anna: There are things about me you don’t realize.  I’m not perfect…

Grant: You’re perfect to me.  Nothing you tell me could change that.  NOTHING!

Anna: Nothing?  Really?  What if I told you that I was the reason Josh killed himself??  What then, Grant??  AM I STILL YOU PERFECT LADY?

Grant: Are you trying to turn me on?

Anna: …is it working?

Grant: Is Josh dead?

Anna: Yes, Grant.  He is.

Grant: Then yes, Anna, I sure am.

Anna: Oh Grant.  I think we’re gonna be alright.

Grant: We’re gonna get married.

 Anna: Lets run away.

Grant: Let’s never come back.

Anna: Let’s spell “let’s” correctly.

Grant: Don’t beat yourself up about it.

Anna: Ok. Thank you.

Grant: LITERALLY anytime.

I’m gradually learning to become a better cook, and part of this goal has been inviting my parents over to my house on alternating weeks for me to cook for them.  Last week was week one with my mom, pretty basic soup, Thursday involved Tuna Noodle Casserole, but last night was my first big one: Stuffed Peppers and Strawberry Bruschetta.

Strawberry Bruschetta (courtesy of www.hellogiggles.com)

2 demi baguettes, sliced

1 box of strawberries, sliced

one little tube thingie of goat cheese

fresh arugula

salt, pepper

balsamic vinegarette

(Don’t hate me for being so non-specific, tube-thingie is about as good as it’s gonna get with me)  Put your bread pieces on a cookie tray and stick them in the oven to toast them.  When they’re toasted to your liking, pull them out and spread some goat cheese over each one.  Lay your sliced strawberries over the top (I had extra so that became dessert), cover with arugula, and drizzle on the balsamic!  The website said to put a little garlic on the bread, as well as season to taste, but I didn’t think it needed anything.  I’ll add a picture on here in a little bit.

Stuffed Peppers

2 Green Peppers

1 box baby bella or cremini mushrooms

1 onion

rice

1 can black beans 

cilantro

1 lime

a shit ton of shredded cheese

I probably need to think of names for these recipes as well… Anywhoooo, run those mushrooms through a food processor (or FINELY chop).  This adds a meaty quality to whatever you’re cooking and if you’re flirting with a meat-free lifestyle as I am, it can really help your flavor buds when they’re searching for boeuf.  Then shred yourself some cilantro (I used one of those little boxes from Trader Joe’s that are like .75oz).  Actually I should have told you first to cook the rice.  I cooked 2 cups which was waaaay too much, 1 cup or less is just fine.  Probably 1/2 a cup.  This is for two people, but the way.  Yes.  Rice=cooked.  Dump black beans (the whole can) in a pot, add the rice, squeeze in the juice of your lime and the cilantro, dump in the mushrooms and onions (which should be chopped as well, you should be catching on by now that I’m a little devil-may-care with my directions).  Stir until heated, not very long.  Turn off the heat and put in like two fistfuls of cheese.  I like the Fancy Mexican Blend from TJs, but I think simply cheddar and or jack would cut it just fine.  BTW I used brown rice because I’m a healthy mofo.  Stir that sucker some more.  Meanwhile, your green peppers should be cut in half and gutted and sitting in an oven-safe dish (magically, obviously, because I didn’t tell you to do it earlier).  Spoon your cheesy, goopy deliciousness into those pepper shells til they overflow.  It’s easy clean-up either way, but if you’re really lazy, you can put them on a bed of aluminum foil.  Now I like my peppers crunchy so I set the oven to 250 and just let everything melt a little more, but then dad chimes in that they should be softer.  Dang it, dad.  Always ruining the fun.  So they were in the oven for a loooong time on too low heat, resulting in still pretty crispy peppers and a SLIGHTLY hard top to my filling.  So I would suggest maybe 350 for those of you who know what the hell you’re doing.  Also side-note, you can do this with any pepper you choose (d’uh) but green is clearly superior and the only pepper worth even mentioning because obviously it’s the best and other peppers are gross.

Anyway, that’s it.  Drink red wine.  Enjoy.  It was freaking awesome.  I didn’t take a picture of the peppers because I don’t know, I forgot, get off my case already.

I just want to say pepper some more.  Pepper.  Pepper.

Pepper.