I’ve had a life and a career that has allowed me to travel around the world. As I’ve said many times on-stage, “You’ve got to get out of your zip code. Go to a different Walmart. It really broadens you.” 
My Father, from whom I inherited my wanderlust, encouraged me to run, go, see. And while my mother was afraid for me to even leave the house, she’d say a prayer and let me go. 

I had a show last night. A show that was difficult to get to physically (it was raining the whole drive there) and emotionally: I am constantly balancing my own needs and those of my aging parents. #howdidwegethere

When I pulled into the theater parking lot I did not feel like doing comedy. I felt like pouring myself an adult beverage, curling up in bed, and letting the TV watch me. 

​But I’m a professional. 

If you’re looking for something to fight about at Thanksgiving Dinner, other than politics, here's my go-to list of six! Please click, read, laugh, and share!

MONEY
Collect a cover charge at the door from guests who don't bring a dish. Make it easy. Use a Square. 
Also, ask to borrow money from someone you’ve already borrowed from and have yet to pay back. Do not acknowledge or mention the previous monies owed.

Ok so, I must admit that I’m feeling some kinda way about the Geoffrey Owens story. I’m not going to re-write history and pretend I wasn’t a fan of The Cosby Show. You know I was. Back in the day, that was Black Thursday. 

A year ago today we lost comedian and activist, Dick Gregory. Here’s what I posted then when I learned the news. 

​As I was about to go on stage tonight someone told me that Dick Gregory had died. That's not really the kind of news you tell a comedian right before they're about to perform; especially a comedian who's met, worked with and admired him; a comedian who cites Dick Gregory as one of her influences. 

Standup Comedy is like life: It can be great and then sometimes, not so much. 

At a recent show, as the emcee introduced me and I got on stage, the audience applauded except for the table of people immediately to my left. They just sat and stared, sans smiles. We’ll call this red flag number one. (Spoiler alert: You never need more than one flag. One is enough.)

This is a picture of the universe behind my eyelids: my optic nerve.
I was born with a weak eye muscle. That’s a nice way of saying I had a lazy eye. It’s a really nice way of saying I was born cross-eyed. 

When I was two-years-old I had eye surgery. I was due for a subsequent procedure but it held the risk of me going blind. I’m guessing my parents weren’t ready for a Black Helen Keller.

My doctor presented me with two apples. She said they were fresh, homegrown in her garden, and pesticide free. And I said to her, “But doesn’t the pesticide make them taste better?” She blinked a few times, not knowing how to respond. Then she cracked a smile with an, “Oh you!” twinkle in her eyes and said, “I forgot you’re a comedian.” I should have charged her a co-pay.