volume forty-four
somebody that I used to know
I and my favourite faux suede heeled boots that have worn to mould how I walk in them, leap from the stage and spring down the steps. I exit stage left in complete ecstasy. The blood in my veins throbs to my fingertips and my feet don’t know what to do other than carry me, keeping the motion, until I arrive in the dimly lit back corner, rushing past my peers and employees and friends. Rushing away from the perimeter the stage lights reach in an attempt to vanish into the shadows. There I collapse. Right there on the sticky beer-stained carpet. My disco ball dress reflects the dim lamplight that trickles out of the green room door beside me, cracked slightly ajar making my invisibility impossible. I didn’t even make it to the green room. My fear and pride and thrill all caught up with me and this is where I land. Legs tucked in a twisted foetal position, arms thrown above my head with palms facing up, chest pounding, eyes on the ceiling, not blinking.
Smile beaming. I am hooked.
When I left Australia I left what I thought would be my career. My then boss encouraged me (and I still am so grateful for him to this day) to see some of the world. That I was “too young to be this settled in life”. I was working my way up the corporate ladder — that is of the hotel I had worked at for years — and was quickly being recognised for promotions and select training programs and various opportunities. It was on an overnight shift working the front desk with him, sharing our reheated dinners at two o’clock in the morning, that he brought it up again. He said I should consider New Zealand or Canada. Why? Because as Commonwealth countries, they are very easy to get a work visa as an Australian. I thanked him and left it at that, promising to look into it.
When I went overseas on a vacation for the second time in my life a few weeks later, I knew he was right. There on the beach at sunset on my last day, I realised something. I wanted to experience new things often, like the sun setting on the beach rather than rising. I was ready to be amazed. I walked along that beach and decided to move to Canada for a year. I decided on Canada because New Zealand was so close, so of course, that would make sense to go there when I returned to Australia a year later. Canada was the right choice for right now. Right now before I inevitably bought a house and found a husband and rescued a dog or two and pondered the thought of children, should he so desire.
When I arrived in Canada I was adamant this was a working holiday, and that I was cutting ties with my career focus for the year. One month in I turned down bartending and cafe jobs where I could have breezed in and out, and I was hired at the same hotel chain I had been working for in Australia. Three months in I was promoted to the manager of their comedy club.
There is a lot I was so sure of in this part of my life that hasn’t come to be: that I was in a career I was happy with, then finally deciding to leave but only temporarily, then declaring I was getting a casual job only to get a career again, also desiring a house and a husband in the near future…not to mention basically knowing I didn’t want kids but leaving it to him, whoever he was going to be. Barf.
When I got the call from my boss to offer me the promotion of club manager, I was sprawled on my couch, hungover from my first ever Halloween the night before, with enough money in my bank account to buy a dinner with a friend at the restaurant on my street to celebrate. Before getting to that dinner though, I had to ask exactly what it was she was offering me. I had only ever worked morning shifts and had never heard of this place before that sat directly across the lobby from the restaurant and cafe I had worked in for three months. A comedy club? I love comedy! YES PLEASE!
From there I was in. I managed that club for a year before heading across the country to manage another. I learned a lot about comedy and clubs and how a good one is run. So I ran a great one. It was a fun place to be. There were impromptu dance parties as guests shuffled in and staff who were like family and comedians that were like staff. People brought me dinner and chocolates without me asking when they knew I would be there for 10+ hours without a chance to eat, and we often all enjoyed after shift drinks together. I eventually got another job for a comedy record label and we started a monthly show on top of the albums and content we put out and I gained another family.
I grew up in these comedy rooms. I embraced my sexuality and the queer community by making connections and collaborating to start drag and queer comedy shows in the club. I fell in love for a brief period of time. I ran a late-night open mic that saw 40+ comedians go up in a night. I started hosting interviews with comedians that began a trickle of a love affair with various interview series and lots of trial and error (before last year finding the podcast and knowing that is exactly where my voice should be). When I got my heartbroken, I did what 10/10 comedians recommend you do not do — I started stand-up myself.
I did it for all the wrong reasons. I don’t think revenge was one of them, but I was out to prove something. I guess just that I could fill the space left in my heart. I didn’t suck at it either, especially when I started writing the truth. Slowly my heart healed and I wrote less material about “an ex” while wishing I had more dating experience so there was an air of mystery — or at least so that I could tell half the words I wanted to without anyone knowing for sure who I was talking about — and started writing about everything else.
I found my groove, and I found that in going up every week and trying new bits and working on older ones, watching other comedians I admired, listening to feedback whether I took it on or not, and writing and writing and writing that I got… pretty good. I wouldn’t say I was ready to go pro or quit my day job or even start getting paid a small amount for this, far from all of that. But I found an outlet in my healing — not just from a break-up but from things that actually mattered to me after that scab healed — like my lack of acceptance of my bisexuality, my discovery of my demisexuality, my family and other trauma, my catholic upbringing that I had mixed feelings about, my need to run to the other side of the world and once having cut those ties have no desire to go back, my mistakes, my other heartbreaks, my growth…
By the time I had decided that I wanted a life that balanced my love for running a kickass comedy venue and writing material and performing it for strangers, I was offered my new career. I accepted and moved across the country again, vowed to keep that balance, and the world shut down.
Does this paint the picture that I am trying to while trying to keep this to a length you can read with your morning coffee?
It has been over two years since I was on stage. It has been over two years since I was around a comedy community on a regular basis. It has been over two years since I left to work in a higher-up position in comedy as a producer — that should really, without them directly saying it, mean I chose the career over the craft. It’s been just over two years since I accepted all the harassment and misogyny and pain that has come with this world and wondered how I get out. It’s been just over two years and I have been writing jokes the whole time. I have scribbled notes of ideas, half-finished bits requiring some more punch and fully fleshed out material with another five or ten minutes here and there. None of this has been read aloud. None of this has been on stage.
I returned to witnessing live comedy when I returned to Vancouver and my heart ached for something I had convinced myself I had given up. Something I told myself I wasn’t good enough at so why bother trying? Something I said there was too much ick in so I wanted to steer clear. Something that I had proven I was good at behind the scenes so I could stay there where it was ‘safe’, even though I had now given that all up. The voice that crept in when I saw my favourite comedian Fortune Feimster perform live and when I was at the local shows when I saw my favourite friends and their incredible presence was loud and clear: you want this.
It is not that I want fame or fortune, I am realistic enough to know that would take a lot of work and talent that I am just not sure I have in me. However, I know that I have in me a love and a passion and a drive and a desire to write jokes and tell my story and laugh through my truth to a room full of strangers. I know that when people I have run into since returning have asked what I am up to now, I tell them five freelance jobs and I have never been happier. Then they ask if I am getting back on stage. They ask as their head pulls away as if to say “should I ask this?” but at the same time with a sparkle as their eyes widen and a smile creeps in. When I answer honestly “I want to, but I am scared” they take my hand or my waist or my shoulder (depending on our friendship) and invite me on their show, or if they don’t have one, they tell me about ones they know of where I will be welcomed, and (it feels so weird to write this despite everything that has come before it in this volume, it just still feels weird to talk abut myself in this way) tell they me I am funny and I should.
On Sunday I saw a comedian that I am obsessed with. They are so multitalented and dedicated and they are getting everything they deserve. I had one of these open conversations with them. I told them how I feel. As I was telling them my mind flashed back to our first meeting years ago. It was a weekend with Fortune Feimster, I was managing the club where she headlined for the weekend and at the end of the show, I stood at the doors ready to take photos of Fortune and her fans, thank guests for coming and answer customer and staff questions – the usual for me and my job. I was greeted by a delightful human who said “Lauren? I saw you at [insert whatever show it was, I forget]. You were so funny! I loved your set!”
That was a moment when I was inspired. In a room with my favourite famous comedian, and a soon to be known to me star and friend complimenting me. It all came back on Sunday and I thought “If I can make one person laugh I am going for it. If I can get over my imposter syndrome I can make myself so happy. If I can shed this feeling of a label of being someone in the industry and treat myself as an open mic’er, then maybe everyone else will too.”
After all, if I don’t, the alternative is unfulfilled desire and regret. I can’t live like that.
I love you,
Lauren xoxo
Three things I struggled with this week:
🏠 I have met some Australians lately, who like me have lived abroad for many years. The difference is their vocabulary isn’t skewed. I envy them. I remember when I arrived many years ago hearing other Australian friends using North American terms like parking lot instead of car park and jokingly correcting them. It seems a small difference but it isn’t to me. It wasn’t long before I was doing the same rather than having people ask me to repeat myself or clarify what I was talking about. Soon it just became my new vocabulary without thinking. Lately, I am aware of it, and it stings. I want to get it back, that charm. My accent was never particularly strong (whatever that means) I have known that for many years, and I think certain twangs are unavoidable. I do want to bring in some of my favourite words and phrases again though and hope my new life of spending more time at home will help that too. Running on with that, I see it in my writing. I see my spelling switch between British English and American English and wonder who I should cater to. It might take some time for me to get in the groove but I have decided to cater to myself. I will spell words the way I grew up doing so and prevent myself from the confusion and doubt if I know what I am doing. My keyboard and Grammarly have been set for success.
🥶 I will not complain about the cold. I will not complain about the cold. I will not complain about the cold.
🍫 At the chemist (which in Canada is basically an all you need store) buying anti-acne cream and arms full of candy, wondering if one will cancel the other no I wasn’t!
Three blessings from this week:
🌈 Returning to in-person events means being able to fulfil one of the goals I set for myself when I was able to do so, and that is volunteering at events close to my heart. This week I had the pleasure of volunteering at the annual QMUNITY IDAHOT brunch. Being around like-minded folks, sharing queer joy and a common love for the organisations was soul-nourishing. There is so much to be grateful for in that one morning: recognising those (both past and present) who fight hard for the rights of the queer community, being back in person and sharing human connection, being surrounded by hundreds from the queer community gives me a sense of ease and presence and gratitude like nowhere else can, sharing a jam-filled pastry with a new friend and the fulfilling and rewarding feeling of knowing our being there is contributing to the continued success of a place that gives so much.
🥗 I got to catch up, finally, after travel and being sick one after the other kept us apart, my dear dear friend Skye who I love with my whole heart and it was the best. Shared conversation over good food is good for the soul. Good food that I had really missed, too.
💇I was recommended a fabulous barber who I think is going to be my new go-to for my hair, since I miss my Montreal stylist so much. Thankful for the queers recommending other queers! I am nervous to start new, but so excited to deal with this mop.
Three goals for the coming week:
🎤 Accept an offer to be on a comedy show.
📅 This week has been go, go, go. Next week I will take more time to myself.
🚶 Now that I am back in Vancouver, I am thrilled to announce I will again be taking part in the Walk for Alzheimer’s fundraiser, which raises money for vital research and support for those living with dementia and their loved ones. I will be walking in honour of my Poppy, who also celebrates his birthday this month. A lot of you got to know him over the course of volume 23 to volume 30 and while these funds will impact families in BC, I believe that focussing local has a global result and I am honoured to help those out in my community. If you have the means, it would be wonderful if you could donate here, My goal is to reach my fundraising goal! No amount is too small and every bit helps. If you can’t donate, I encourage you to check out the amazing work of the organisation. Thank you, friends!
What I am enjoying this week:
My friend Andrea Jin won the JUNO AWARD for best comedy album! What a legend! So well deserved. Listen to it here.
hi, lauren deborah! is free for subscribers every week. feel I am not sharing enough? ask me a question and I will answer it in a future post.
if you would like to say thanks for this love letter, please like or comment (it means so much to me to hear from you 🧡), forward it to a friend who might enjoy it or you can show your support and buy me a slice 🍕
More continues to be revealed...
I was so excited to read this! I can hear the energy behind your words and am cheering you on! Also I hear you re changing the words you use. I did it for ease too. I also had to write a lot in American English and there are lots of surprising grammar differences. It's hard to know what's what anymore :)