SHORT
I am exhausted after another day on my hands and knees begging my professors to teach me how to believe in myself
(while wearing socks that have little pieces of buttered toast stitched on them and the professors being like “what’s with the toast?” … a question to which I had no answer other than: “idk my gf got me these socks”)
MEDIUM
I wanted to write about the finale of LGBTQIANDJUSTLIKETHAT this week, but I am coming to you live from being ~very in my head~ about life and school, and don’t have the strength to do an in-depth finale dissection.
Everyone reading this is like, “aren’t you always in your head about life and school?” and the answer is yes, but this week… more than … ever? No, I’m being dramatic. But like…
I just feel stuck.
Both stuck and on the edge of something.
Earlier today I told my friend Sebastian (who is a hero and has talked me down from every meltdown this week), that I feel like I have no clarity on what I care about, and what I want to write about and that: “I just feel like a piece of wet cardboard in the rain that used to have purpose and potential but is now just lying there on the sidewalk getting stomped on by people hurrying to the train so they can get home to their warm, dry houses.”
Houses inside of which there is cardboard that works and isn’t soaked.
Is this metaphor doing anything for anyone?
Anyway, I’m sure I’ll snap out of this state where I’m comparing myself to rotting inanimate objects sometime soon.
I alwayssss do.
Basically my main recap/ report/ takeaway from the LGBTQIANDJUSTLIKETHAT finale is they should hire me to write on the next season because the show is mostly about NY, podcasting, Judaism, being nonbinary, menopause, and puberty… ALL OF WHICH I HAVE INCREDIBLE HILARIOUS INSIGHT ON.
LONG
I need those things that horses wear where they can’t see the people around them and just focus on going on their merry way.
I tell everyone around me that they’re amazing and then try to tell myself that and it doesn’t “go in” (that’s what she said) so then I’m like why do I tell other people that they’re amazing when it probably doesn’t “go in for them either”?
And yet I keep doing it! On the hope and the dream that we ALL recognize that we’re all going to die and there’s something horrible and hellish and incredible and stunning in all of us (cross-stitch that on some socks for me and I’ll wear ‘em to class).
Anyway, it’s been freezing cold in New York (which is probably the sole trigger of this mood that I’m in and I should probably just move to somewhere warm, but I’m sure I’d find something else in the warm place that would make me want to curl up and never see anyone ever again).
Whenever I’m sad about how cold it is, I remember being so hot last summer that I took two frozen burritos from my freezer and slept with them on my face. They were Amy’s Burritos. And workers in Amy’s factories are currently protesting inhumane working conditions and you can support that and learn more about that here.
Ultimately, my life is comfortable and good and fine and I need to stfu.
There’s a huge argument going on right now (online) about “the job of a comedian”.
Based on my four years of experience, I would say that comedians are not here to make you "laugh", our job is to take hot pictures with a microphone and hope the picture is so convincing that someone books us on another show where we can take more hot pictures with a microphone.
We are here to tell you what we did "the other day" aka two years ago.
We are here to be so annoying onstage & online that someone eventually gives us money to stfu & calm down & go away for a bit to write a script or something.
We are here to conflate our self worth with how many laughs we get and then tell ourselves to stop doing that.
We are here to get on as many show posters as possible so other comics lose their minds and r like “what do they have that I don’t”, and the answer is usually: nothing :)
The point is, we are all dumb.
As my friend Jojo so brilliantly put it the other day via text: “I am not an artist, I’m annoying”.
If you call yourself an artist, good for you. Maybe possibly I hope to one day take myself that seriously. Maybe I should hope to want to take myself that seriously more.
I mostly just want to not have a meltdown about being a wet piece of cardboard with no brain every three weeks.
And I think that want is attainable.
The other day, I was sitting in a cafe and heard the song “Counting Stars” and it unearthed a repressed memory of when I was in an all-student-athlete a cappella group called Jockapella my freshman year of college and we performed the aforementioned song.
I auditioned for the group by singing “Put Your Records On” (god bless!), and I remember being so nervous. To sing in front of people. To not get in the group. To be ALIVE. Lol.
And now look at me.
More or less in the SAME BOAT.
But also not.
Clearly.
Because I forgot all about Jockapella until OneRepublic came on in a New York coffee shop.
Life is sad and cyclical but u also move forward yada yada.
I think that’s what Neitzsche said about life and tragedy.
Let me look it up.
Oh, just kidding, “Nietzsche argues that Greek tragedy arose out of the fusion of what he termed Apollonian and Dionysian elements—the former representing measure, restraint, and harmony and the latter unbridled passion—and that Socratic rationalism and optimism spelled the death of Greek tragedy.”
Idk what I was thinking of.
But that little quote’s nice.
Gives ya something to THINK ABOUT.
Something 2 Ponder.
For the rest of the damn day!
I’m almost home. Waiting for the Q train. The man on the subway platform where I’m typing this into my phone is playing “Man In The Mirror” on the kazoo.
He is not annoying, he is an artist.
C u next Tuesday.
Thank you for subscribing. If this is your first time reading the newsletter, read the archives. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s not – it’s very much like when people slip on ice.
Sincerely,
Reid
Venmo: @rpope-venmo-26
Donate to The Audre Lorde Project
Bonus Jonas Content Zone:
my relatives who haven’t watched LGBTQIANDJUSTLIKETHAT / Euphoria and aren’t “online ppl” are going to be so confused by this whole section
bye
Wet cardboard vs dry useful cardboard YESYESYES
You are so brilliant. Keep it up. It’s hard being annoying/artist.
(Had to retype this because the Internet doesn't want me gushing about how much I related to your wet cardboard metaphor.)
But yes, I related very hard to your wet cardboard metaphor, and also to your description of what a comedian's job is. Thank you for your brilliance, because you made the wet cardboard relatable to someone who's not even a fraction in tune with pop culture as you are. I know it doesn't sound like much but I actually believe that your writing (at least from this newsletter alone) has an amazing style and it brings me joy on these cold wet days to read.