OK. So in my last blog I mentioned wanting to write about this guy at a bar. I'm finally doing it...it's been a busy week.

Last Monday I was hanging with some people from my IO team until the wee hours of the morning. We were in a dive bar just goofing around and having an absolute blast.

There were probably only five other people in the bar total. At one point, I glanced up and saw a middle aged man sitting at the far end of the bar. Bonnie Raitt's "I Can't Make you Love me if you Don't" was playing on the jukebox and he was just sitting there, tapping his fingers to his bald head and humming along.

I instantly, got a pang in my heart. I don't know this guy or pretend to know what is going on in his life to make him sit alone at a bar. (something I have never done...and I get sad every time I see someone alone at a bar...although, I know it is a perfectly common thing, I can't deal with it and I start imagining all the reasons they might be there and I get really sad)

Anyway, it struck me because

A. that is a really sad song so I can only imagine he was feeling sad

B. that is the song that was playing on the radio when I was in a terrifying car chase in which a stranger rammed me off the road in the middle of the night in Indiana. This was years ago but it was the scariest moment of my life and I remember it vividly every time that damn Bonnie Raitt song (which I actually think is beautiful) comes on.

So the song ends and this guy walks past our table and looks at us and says "Bonnie Raitt?" I nod yes, and he walks to the jukebox.

We continue hanging and laughing at our table. A couple of minutes go by and the song plays again. I look up, and the man is back at his perch on the other end of the bar. I don't want to stare, but I keep glancing over. Instead of strumming the song with his fingers, he has turned around and is facing outside...I wonder if he is crying. He is obviously having some moment.

And it's weird to see such sadness when I'm surrounded by four friends who are laughing and having a blast. And I'm having a blast, but also feeling so sad at the same time.

About ten minutes go by and he plays the song again. I imagine several scenarios...his wife left him, his wife passed away, he cheated on his wife and is filled with regret.  But who really knows.

The song plays. He listens, gets up and walks out the door...as he walks out he kind of tips his hat to the bar and I swear  I see a smile on his face.

So I imagined all these depressing scenarios, but maybe he just really liked the song...maybe he thought it was beautiful and wanted to hear it a few more times and then get on with his night.

I don't know. I hope that's the case. And I hope he's happy.

I think it is adorable when couples post comments on each other's myspace page.

So often, comments on MySpace are full of inside bits or sexual innuendo. People trying to hook up with each other...blah, blah, blah. That is all well and good. But...

I was on my friend Rachel's site recently.... Rachel is my friend and also the wife of one of my very best friends from college, Tony. Tony and Rachel are, in my eyes, the perfect couple. Whenever I get down on love, I think about them.

Anyway, long story short. I was scrolling through Rachel's comments and there was one from Tony that said, "I will wash the dishes."

Very simple. Very adorable. I mean, maybe they were in a huge fight and that comment was the result of a good deal of drama...but I don't think so. In my mind, it is just a little snippet of an adorable couple and their love for each other.

 It makes me happy. Happy couples make me smile.

Ro-No

My heart hurts today.

My heart hurts for many reasons.

Here is one:

There are two kids in my improv class that are social outcasts. They say inappropriate things, they do weird dances onstage, and they just don't fit in. Sure, it's really funny to watch Napoleon Dynamite in a movie...but in life...it's sad. Do these kids know that everyone is laughing at them and not with them? I pray to god they don't.

What if you went your entire life thinking people were laughing with you. That you were in on the joke. That people loved you. And then one day something in your brain just clicked and you realized that all that time people were laughing At you. You were the joke the entire time.

What do you do? Do you change your behavior entirely? Do you lock yourself up away from the world and fear people? Or do you just figure, fuck it, I've lived this long and I'm fine??

That may sound crazy but I used to have a recurring nightmare. It took place in my junior high gym. I wasn't in junior high but it took place there. Everyone important in my life was gathered. They announced my name and called me onto the stage. Then they said something along the lines of  "Congratulations, Robyn. Everyone loves you. " And I felt so happy and relieved.  And then they all busted up laughing and said "Just kidding. How could you ever believe that we would like you?"

How unbelievably trite and simple. But man, have I lived my entire life with that fear.

And who really cares? Maybe you are aware of people laughing at you or maybe you are completely oblivious. Does it matter if you are yourself and you're making other people happy?

I often think about how many people judge me when I'm onstage. It's got to be up to the thousands at this point. For every audience member that thinks you are the most hilarious thing they've ever seen...for every audience member that smiles because of something you do onstage...there are five others that are thinking "she's not funny." "she looks anorexic." "her voice is annoying", etc.

For some reason that doesn't bother me. Because I don't know those people, I guess.

But in life, I'm still terrified of being the butt of the joke. Terrified that people are laughing at me. I can't believe I do comedy for a living. Weird.

I want to wrap this up in a poignant and meaningful way, but frankly, I'm too tired. My heart hurts today and so does my brain so I have to stop typing.

So, go ahead, laugh. Laugh with me. Laugh at me...but if you're laughing at me, do me a favor and let me think you're laughing with me. That's where I need to be right now.

Ro-No

OK. Not really a poem, but it is poetry to me. The following is a word for word transcription of a conversation I heard between two drunk girls in a bathroom in a bar...on a Monday night...

Girl 1: Oh, my God, you are so skinny! You look really good.

Girl 2: Thanks. It's the cocaine and heroin.

Girl 1: Really?!

Girl 2: Well, not really. I mean, I did heroin...and I threw up all day so I don't do that anymore.

Girl 1: Oh.

Girl 2: I mean, I don't really do drugs anymore.

Girl 1: Like, how old are you?

Girl 2: 21

Girl 1: I mean, you seem really young to be doing all that.

Girl 2: Well...my Dad abused me.

(Pause, Pause)

Girl 1: Oh, Ok. You going to Buzz later?

Wow. I just spent a good twenty minutes typing a blog entry...my first blog entry ever.

In it, I explained that I never had a blog because I've always been more of an observer of people...rarely the center of attention. I always thought "Who cares what I have to say?"

But I had finally gotten the courage up to write a blog because the timing felt right. (I am going through a lot of transitions in my life right now. And I need to feel like someone is listening even if they aren't.)

I typed, what I thought was a pretty good entry. I'll even go so far as to say the word 'poignant.'

And I accidentally double-clicked something and the whole thing disappeared.

Maybe no one really should hear what I have to say. Is this a sign?

I'm depressed.