I’ve officially been performing comedy for three years. And in that time, I’ve just managed not to fully clog my arteries by eating veggies such as the celery that comes with buffalo wings. Instead, I’ve eaten Juicy Lucy’s, nacho platters, chimichangas and home cookin’ from the heart; the heart being that of Orson Welles in his much later years. The Comedy Underground’s cure for osteoporosis, quesadillas. My goal has been to exit the realm of my Ricki Lake body type in the fear of eventually turning into Divine, and to go for perhaps a more Mink Stole-esque frame.This became even more clear to me this week, when a gal took one of my business cards and said, “You look like a tranny in this photo.”  Perhaps I’m already on my way in the opposite direction. I need to make a U-Turn quickly, and it’s this weekly column that acts as my giant backpedal.I performed at the Comedy Underground last weekend, opening for Brooks McBeth, of MadTV and Almost Live fame. I was very excited about my set, as the booker and producer of the Seattle International Comedy Competition were in the audience. Having the booker in the audience is like having your parents in the front row of a spelling bee–you’d better not choke! The booker said I was very funny and scheduled me at his other club, the Tacoma Comedy Underground.

My set went over well with audience members, some of whom approached me after the show, reciting lines of my act and inquiring about future shows. I attribute the well-received performance to advice that Louie Anderson had given me the week prior, stating that I should really focus more on my character, as it’s very relatable and funny. I find my character or voice to be an exaggerated version of my awkward self, and feel that when I’m onstage I’m like a child patiently waiting to interject between two grown-ups having a conversation.

At the Underground I thumbed through a laminated menu filled with mozzarella sticks and jalapenos poppers. Apparently while on a diet, your only options are a quesadilla or a salad. I went for the black bean quesadilla served with guacamole, sour cream and salsa. Although my favorite thing on the menu is the buffalo chicken salad, I felt such amazing fried goodness wasn’t going to help in my attempt at losing weight, but the mounds of melted cheese might. Poor me having to endure the delicious gooey strings of cheese piled on with more dairy and sour cream, because sometimes you really need to fight osteoporosis in your twenties. Last night I impressed my mom for the first time in my entire comedy career. I have performed in Las Vegas and Los Angeles in the past two months, but the place that impressed her most was when I performed at the Tulalip Casino, aka “the number one place for fun.” Turkey Clubber, bacon aside a healthy meal. Tulalip is a gorgeous casino, vibrant and colorful. We performed in the Canoe Cabaret room opening for a band called Mr. Pink. After I got all the Reservoir Dogs quotes out of my system I was ready to take the stage before a packed house. I was a little concerned prior to taking the stage, as my boss mentioned there was a possibility that he might be in the room on a date and I didn’t want to be the reason his date went awry, in case I bombed.  During the Tulalip show we received free non-alcoholic beverages. After my round of Shirley Temples, I felt pretty loose and ready to take on the world! For dinner I had a Roasted Turkey Clubber, which was artisan wheat bread with turkey, lettuce, tomato, and bacon served with a bag of chips, one strawberry and a bunch of grapes. The majority of the items on the menu were either fried or sweets, I felt I had the better meal as I split the sandwich with my boyfriend in an effort to control portions. If I was able to choose what I would have liked to have snacked on it would have been the enormous macaroons I saw being delivered to the tables nearby, gorgeous toasted coconut macaroons, the bastard brothers of Hostess snowballs but more filling. I would have pigged out on French fries and chicken strips dripping in hot sauce and ranch, the holy land of road food. However, no one’s waist was ever benefited from fried foods and sweets, except perhaps Jared’s.