Bios written in the third person are douchey (if I wrote this in the third person I wouldn’t be able to use made up words like “douchey”). Would it really matter if I grew up the daughter of a patent lawyer, or an immigrant seamstress with limited English but limitless love? Would my star be rising if potential fans believed that I’d been keeping people “in stitches” since age five doing impressions of Merv Griffin at family get-togethers? If the answer is “yes”, then all of those things are 100% true and valid to the best of my recollection.
Coming from a family of irrational lunatics, and having low self-esteem (but not low enough to strip)—I realized that I’d rather laugh than cry…and that lots of Catholic women marry closeted gay men (What? Where did that come from?).
I think like a guy, I joke like a guy, and I look like an x-ray when my shirt’s off. My comedy does not aim to please or offend any particular group. It’s comedy for people who just “get it”. My inspiration comes from never fitting in, disdain for peoples’ robotic interests in life (religion, Two and a Half Men, buffets), and super-white white people. They’re the ones who laugh extra loud and nod their heads furiously at “African-American” comedians to show their solidarity and ability to relate (even though they can only understand every fifth word spoken). They’re also the people who gasp in horror when somebody uses the word “fat” to describe a co-worker…the same co-worker that said white person never e-vites to happy hour because “I didn’t realize she wasn’t in my contacts list”.
In addition to performing all over the East Coast, I also VERY briefly co-hosted the radio show “What’s Your Problem” with veteran comedians Rev. Bob Levy and Eric McMahon. Other credits include a role in a national TV commercial for retailer AJ Wright. Although not meant to be comedic, it’s my most humorous role to date due to the horrifying attire and wig-like hair I was sporting at the time.
My greatest accomplishments thus far are never having a desire to own a Coach, Louis Vuitton, or Gucci pocketbook; and never having seen Meredith Baxter-Birney or Nancy McKeon domestically abused in a Lifetime for Women movie.