Things I Love: David Sedaris

After years of love (and I mean love - I listen to the man while falling asleep!) I finally saw David Sedaris live. He was great. He could never live up to my expectations entirely, since I would want to hear every favorite story of his that I hold dear and that would take....days. But he was political and inappropriate and generally great. I'm not a fan of seeing live comedic performances (although comedic doesn't really encapsulate his work) since I get performance anxiety for the person on stage and I always feel like people laugh at the wrong times (obviously I laugh only at the right times). But he was so droll and so cynical and yet so absolutely loving towards the audience, that I fell in love with that little elfin, Southern man all over again.

Since starting this blog more than one person has asked me when, exactly, I got so chipper. As intended, this blog has become a collection of things I love and make me happy (with the exception of the occasional political rant...which sort of make me happy in their own way, I guess). I guess if you read it and didn't see me often (poor you! I'm awesome!) you would think I was chipper all the time. But it's actually sort of an inverse measurement. Sometimes the crappier things are going, the more I need a place to remind myself of the things I am grateful for. And this week has had moments of supreme, exquisite crappiness. Wrapped in heartbreaking disappointment.

In some ways, seeing David Sedaris tonight, especially alone, was just what I needed. He's so funny, but also so sad - his usual themes are his own struggles with anxiety, self-hate, and dysfunction. Oh, and also the pathetic state of the US. He's been a drug addict, suffered the death of his mother, and didn't find professional success until his 40's (until which time he worked a series of profoundly unimpressive jobs...like being an elf). And he's just plain rude. He talks about poop and sex and drunks and revels in all things awkward and politically incorrect. And he pulls it all off. Because he does it as a way of engaging with the world. He doesn't sit by and write what he sees while others do the living. He asks the wrong questions, takes candy from strangers, disagrees with himself, and seems as surprised by his moments of happiness as he does by his moments of depression.

And because I went to see him by myself, I left before the night was over. Not because I didn't love listening to him, but because I could. Leaving at intermission, or before shows are over, or, as the case was tonight, during a Q&A (good god I hate Q&As!) has become a favorite pastime. Sometimes I don't want to sit somewhere and hear someone else talk for one more minute, or stand somewhere and listen to someone play music for one more song. I just want to be by myself so I can remember why I chose to be around people to begin with.