Namaste to you too, buddy

Saturday 9 Jan 10

I am in my apartment. Earlier this afternoon I was trying out some new material for my show on Monday night at Joe's Pub and I was mid-story and when I mentioned the word 'foreskin' a picture fell off the wall and smashed into another one that was resting on the floor below it.  What does this mean? Is there a God?

I think on Monday I am going to try out a new song I've written called I Want To See You. It's about body image and our obsession with hacking up our faces and so on. It's quite scary trying out something for the first time, but I guess if I don't then I never will. It's also rather high so we're going to do it early in the show so that I might still have the voice to do it. Of course you'd think that as I have written this song, I could alter the key, wouldn't you?

I just came back from yoga, where, as I'd just muttered 'namaste' and was rolling up my mat, the man  next to me, crawled over and said 'I loved you in Josie and the Pussycats'.

'Thanks very much', I replied.

'I love that film. My friends all think I'm crazy', he continued.  This happens to me all the time. Actually that last bit of yoga when everyone is just getting themsleves together and making their way out of the studio is prime time for people to nab you and give you a back-handed compliment.  In LA recently, I'd just finished a really intense, sweaty yoga class and the lady next to me whispered 'I love your work'.

'Thanks", I said, wiping myself down with my towel.

'Put me out of my misery. Is it Frankie Goes to Hollywood or one of the Pet Shop Boys?'

Thank you. Welcome to my world.

 



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