Itchy Fingers

I'm lying in my new, unfurnished studio on the miracle mile, elbows on the carpet, wrists going numb. The room smells like paint and scented candles. Tomorrow morning, I'll see just how bright it gets in here with the blinds cracked; I'm sleeping here, on the floor. Yesterday night, Jim and I went to MadTV and hung out backstage. It was thrilling - the name Boom gets nods of recognition. It's like the codeword of a comedy-mafia. I ate Chocolate cake, checked out Jordan's shoes (Bobby Lee had bought him the same sneakers I grabbed before I went to Tokyo), cheered on Nicole Parker, giggled with Ike ... and tried not to gawk at Weird Al Yankovic, who was standing beside us.

After, Jim and I went to Westwood and watched "Fucking Hacks," the latest irreverent Ultimate Improv show. My favorite self-aware move during the play-right format was when Simon announced in-scene, "I have a reveal," after getting a get. Otherwise, it was Will all the way -- that boy remains one of my favorite improvisors in the world.

I just realized that he reads this. Hmm. Well, hell, I'll keep it in.

Jim and I have received confirmation on our show; it goes up the 4th of November (and the following two tuesdays) at Improv Olympic. Please god, come see it. And bring an Agent, because I'm broke.