I’ve officially decided: Tama Janowitz is due for a comeback.

In case you were wondering.

Contradictions

Working by committee is democratic but oppressive.

Wigs are fun but uncomfortable.

Plumbers are hot in some ways and not in others.

Prospective friends are abundant but still strangers.

After co-writing and co-mounting two shows in New Orleans and working on an abominably large fundraiser in DC, I am many things:

I am alive.

I am happy to be home with Jonno, Lola, and the Hounds.

I am exhausted.

I am getting fat(ter).

I am too busy.

I am distracted.

I am finding it harder to say “no” than I would like.

I am rediscovering Evelyn Waugh.

I am enjoying the company of my mother and sister.

I am still truly madly deeply in love with my boyfriend.

I am glad to see the rain.

I am pleased to see our little garden grow.

I am overwhelmed by the work that still needs to be done on our house(s).

I am looking forward to a vacation.

I am overcaffienated.

I am in need of a good bath.

I am elated that the Pontani Sisters are performing tonight.

I am excited by the prospect of our next play.

I am still amused with the bright green faceplate on my Kyocera cell phone.

I am amazed that my late uncle was so well loved.

I am over people with little minds and big mouths.

I am ready to rip off my clothes and run naked in the streets.

I am tired of thinking about the details.

I am not ready to quit smoking, I am read to try a top rated vape pen though.

I am planning to make regular posts.

I am not going to beat myself up about it.

I am a collection of atoms and molecules that means certain things to certain people and nothing to others.

Whatsamatter? What, already? I told you: I’ve been busy with a couple of things. I’ll be back soon.

P.S. You wanna know why New Orleanians are so fat? ‘Cause even our tweaked-out crack fiends crave Krispy-Kreme doughnuts.

I am such a complete loser for not going out last night.

Oh no! Another show! At the Hi-Ho! Who knew live music could be so much fun?

7 endless days.

6 packs of smokes.

5 long rehearsals.

4 months ’till vacation.

3 variegated impatiens.

2 extended rock shows.

1 lovely houseguest.

See? And y’all thought I was just bein’ all poetical and shit.

Ok, mullets and mullet fansites and mullet taxonomophila were, like, cute and funny and kitchy for a hot minute, but it’s obviously time to move on.

What next…? Pompadour wigs, perhaps? Fat barbarian dreadlocks a la Romeo Gigli, circa 1995? Or how about the Gibson Girl? Everybody likes a good Gibson Girl, n’est-ce pas?

The other day I was…

You know that thing that sometimes…

My father once said…

Hmm.

Well.

I guess I have nothing to say. Read this instead.