On second thought I will wear a bra for the gig tonight under my new Adida’s jacket.*

*a gift from someone special in San Francisco!

It’s the first day of Spring. And people are advising me to breathe. Gee thanks, I would never have thought of that. I would have gasped to my death, flapping around on the floor like a salmon, choking on my spit crusts. Tell me what you really think “shut up and stop whining.” Okay that’s fair enough.
I blame my rattled mind on my neighbor. He sings “Happy Birthday” by Stevie Wonder nightly at 1 am or 2, so loud you can’t hear the police sirens or the Mr. Softee truck. He’s not even in show business so there’s no hope of him ever going on tour. Also walks his dog on the roof over my head cause he’s too lazy to climb up the stairs. This is why I have to take Ambien now.
My show has it’s first previews in 10 days or 9. Oh I just counted the box on the calendar. It’s 12 days. But still it’s pretty serious. Nobody is returning my calls. Nobody. What happened? I used to be popular.Is it cuz I suck at math?

I have abandonment isssues and I’m hungry. And according to the publicist there are thousands of shows opening in NY the same time I am. Tonight I preview a little portion of Los Big Names at my friend Earl’s spectacular “Art Jam” in hippity dippity Williamsburg on a line-up with numerous burlesque and state of the art stars. I do feel fantastic about what I’m going to wear. It’s a clingy red sleveless vintage shirt with a psychedelic big collar and my three hundred dollar chalkstripe pants pants that look like they’re from the dumpster. But the secret of my winning outfit is for the first time I will perform without a bra.

Even though Los Big Names is very funny most of the time - I pulled a Diana Ross fit when the producer e-mailed me an proposal ad calling my show “A New Comedy.” The ad agency was forced to change it. I insisted that I wouldn’t be able to perform otherwise. It’s my only bargaining tool, my ability to perform, so I save it for the big battles.

You see, my other job is stand-up comedy - which often involves a drinking crowd. Pitching my funny but heartfelt “Los Big Names” as a comedy could confuse my drunk stand-up following, luring them inside a theater with no cocktail service and no intermission to pee and no Angelina Jolie jokes. Those are pissed off slackjawed faces you don’t want to see when you’re exposing the tender places in your soul.

I love comedy. Mixing comedy with drama is my kind of theater. Los Big Names is comedy/drama or don’t call it anything. So that’s what we’re doing- not calling it anything. No labels for Los Big Names. Just advertising with lots of media quotes from actual reviews using words like Hilarious! Funny! Laughs!! I can’t argue with that. Go ahead dig it in.

Then I rented “Broken Flowers” one of the most depressing and slow movies I’ve seen in years. The only thing funny about it is remembering when Bill Murray was in “Meatballs”. But the DVD box proclaimed it to be side-splitting comedy… a comic jackpot.. and that sort of thing. Damn, Los Big Names is a hundred times funnier than Broken Flowers and Meatballs. I guess they just call everything a comedy now. Maybe porno movies will be sold as “comedy” because sex doesn’t sell like it used to.

But when Saddam Hussein takes the stand and he calls his trial a COMEDY I’m blown away. Who’s his lawyer, Bill Murray? His trial is many things but not a comedy. Dick Cheney shooting people might be a comedy. But I don’t want either of these guys cashing in on my territory. Because what I’ve learned is that comedy is everywhere and sometimes like love it hurts.

With apologies to my producer and advertising people I’ve changed my mind and request our poster reprinted immediately with this message “Los Big Names:The Greatest Comedy Ever Told.”

Happy Women’s History Month and Saint Patricks Day everybody! I’m in Norfolk Virginia gigging for the students at Old Dominion University. I always worry when I play the South because of all that gentility. I don’t like to upset people with my foul language. But I love to curse like some people like to smoke. I like to curse after a good meal or after sex or at a bar. Norfolk, as pronounced by the locals, sounds just like the biggest curse word of all. So technically I did an hour comedy set with no obscenities I just repeated Norfolk! again and again.
And it was a norFOLKING blast. NORFOLKINGing way did I expect to have so much fun in the south.
The Women’s Center brought me to their University as part of a comedy night for Women’s history month. Unfortunately it was on St. Patricks day and there was no green beer available just Sprite, Swedish Meatballs and chicken wings. So we lost a few students to kegger parties and shamrock bongs but there was still a pretty good audience with the latina and the multi-cultural sorrorities in the house. Go Senoritas and MSU!!!!
Let me tell you about the decorations. Fabulous and tragic. Every table had a bunch of helium baloons that said Women’s History month, the last helium balloons you will ever see at ODU. Earlier that day at set up, a ballon got loose and jiggled the smoke detector, alarms went off and the entire campus center had to be evacuated. And because of that from now on there is a new University rule barring helium balloons from the grounds of Old Dominion University. Never again. Because of the women’ center comedy night. And that is how NORFOLKING Women’s history is made.

By the way there is a dyke bar in Norfolk it’s called The Her-she bar. But I didn’t go there because I’m in training.

My fan club president Becky Flores explained that I could set up a google alert for “Marga Gomez” so that I don’t have to spend those late nights trolling for myself on the web. Ever since then I receive all breaking news items re: Los Big Names going Off-Broadway instantly. But tonight my Google Alert was thrown off by the strangest report on yet another heterosexual marriage on the rocks. It comes from the Daily Star in the Phillipines and it contains the keywords Gomez and Marga and that’s how Filipina fitness expert “Plinky” Recto entered my life. Plinky Recto, if you are out there googling yourself right now- take the next plane to New York and let’s get physical- We’ll go to Crunch! And you can see my show Los Big Names when it opens in a couple weeks. It will teach you what love is not. Of course you can bring the baby! The ushers will watch him.

Here is the top story in today’s Daily Star– abbreviated for my friends with ADD.

Recto claim all showbiz — former BF
BY CARLA GOMEZ

“It’s all showbiz crap.”

That was the reaction yesterday of the former live-in partner of fitness expert Marie Roxanne “Plinky” Recto, who called the DAILY STAR yesterday to react to her statements Monday that she misses their 17-month-old child who is now in his custody.I miss my child because I think he is the cutest thing on earth.”

The former boyfriend yesterday said it is Recto who is not fit to be a mother, she is a member of the Ananda Marga and worships Hindu gods. “My son cannot grow up with her,” he said.

“Despite the pressure I will add more cases against him, I may not be a lawyer but I’m a Recto,” she said Monday.

“You want to fight, you are a Recto, but you keep pestering the courts for a protection order,” the former boyfriend said.

My suggestion to her, he said, is: “Let us withdraw all our cases so your lawyers don’t make too much money out of you so you can stop pestering your brother, (Senator) Ralph (Recto), and borrowing money from him for your cases.”*CPG

Today was a good day because-

I woke up in a double bed with Tabasco as late as I wanted to.

Although my first choice restaurant had stopped serving breakfast by 4: 30 I spied and snatched an abandoned but almost complete Sunday New York Times which I read at my second choice restaurant.

I found hot articles on current NY productions of my two esteemed comrades Lisa Kron and Sherry Glaser. But what cured my jet lag for life was a third profile on Kate Valk from the Wooster group, who I have never met but I love her now.

She admits in the interview “I never liked the camera. It’s like a big black hole. I don’t know who to be.”

When I get those well meaning but relentless questions like “When are you gonna get a sitcom Marga? When are we going to see you on the L Word. What about Logo. You are as good as them!” I’ll think of Kate, Lisa and Sherry who devote themselves to make outstanding theater and who choose live performance over money. I’m all in theater. And we’re far from destitute. We can make a living in our business. We just can’t afford no BLING.

I experienced no envy reading about my friends in the Times whew! Envy is toxic and luckily I got a big picture and 700 words in the Times 2 weeks ago. Have I mentioned that enough? It was a really big picture! But I was wearing a moustache, kind of incognito. Unfortunate for an attention monger like me in this city so unkind to non celebrities.

I thought I broke through today. I was paying my bill at the restaurant and the very attractive waitress was searching my face. She says “I feel like I’ve seen you. Have you been here before. Why do you look familiar?” It was almost too much for me. She wore a vintage clingy camisole and was standing over me for an eternity. I cocked my head a little, smiled confidently and said “You may have seen my paper in the picture.” I said it just like that, messed up. And she didn’t remember any picture.

“I was wearing a moustache but maybe.. imagine me with a moustache” I wish I hadn’t said that either.

She insisted she did not see me in the paper. People play silly games with celebrities.

Later, strolling down the avenue, I pass by a lady telling her friend “Then he puts his arm around me and his pits are all wet and I say ‘you know my daughter’s gonna smell you on me.’”

Now SHE should get a sitcom.

I got misty in the Super Shuttle today as we rolled away from San Francisco to the Blue Jet waiting in Oakland. Blue Jet is my new favorite airline and I would be humored to be their customer of the week.* I mean- honored not humored although I would rather be humored because being honored makes me feel guilty.
During the flight to NYC I had many brilliant ideas but no paper to write them on. There were numerous printouts in the seat pocket with blank space in the margins perfect for jotting memos but they were laminated to prevent us geniuses from using them.The stewardess gave me attitude when I asked if there might be some scratch paper in the back- like I was asking her to search for my missing daughter in cargo. When flight attendants are mean it’s fun to call them stewardesses.

In a pinch I’ve been able to write on barf bags but there was only one random bag in my row and with a wad of used gum stuck in it. Barf bags may be going the way of airplane food and in flight magazines. And that’s wrong. Cut back on seat belts or the inflatable stuff that will never save us, but not this. Every passenger needs the passenger next to them to have a fresh barf bag. It’s a security matter.

My dog Tabasco and I have landed at JFK with less than four weeks to opening night. We jump in the limo, or car service if you’re a stickler, and inhale that first blast of dangling extra strength air freshener that says “Welcome to New York. Hold your breath!”

My apt was just as I left it unfortunately. There were four beers in the fridge but I’m cuttting out booze for Lent. There was a container of pistachio Tasti-Delight in the freezer that looked good but- just so you know- four month decomposed Tasti Delight is what they use to make those dangling air fresheners.

So I headed to my local avant garde cafe where I began this here entry using wi-fi for the first time. I felt so modern looking at my screen and not at people. But I couldn’t stop worrying that my hand would be possesed by demons and knock my green tea latte onto my computer which would really suck because I don’t back up my files. And that’s one of the things that separates me from the hip. There is however my personal backup which I save for the stage.

Later-

* I have heard that my picture is still up at Peet’s in the Castro and I am still technically their customer of the week going on two weeks- Only because they are out of polaroid film to indoctrinate a new customer. I really did drink more coffee than I ever had in my life that week and it made me a better person.

I’m half cuban and passionate about coffee. My father was the spokesperson of Cafe El Pico although he drank Bustelo secretly. My favorite coffee is Peet’s. Besides the superior flavor and lethal strength they don’t play music at their outlets.. You get your coffee, you hear grinding and fast talking but no Michael Bubles. If you don’t know who Michael Bubles is you are lucky.
There are no Peet’s coffee outlets in NY. That’s a little sad. But before I face that void I am finishing out my reign as Peet’s Customer of the Week. Please visit Peet’s On Market in the Castro and buy some coffee. Tell them “Customer of The Week March 1- 7th” sent you.
This designation was an honor I had been coveting for many years but unsure how to be chosen. Twenty dollars in the Baristas hand and now my polariod picture is propped up on a bowling trophy for all to envy. And I can order all the complicated coffee drinks I want, with soymilk, for seven days, many times a day if I wish. I’ve upped my daily intake to 6 shots of espresso and now I’m up at 2:30 am blogging. Because the Customer of the Week never sleeps.

I go back to NY on Saturday. I’ve been spending the last few months in San Francisco where I got my start as a working performer. I have some amazing fans out here and I usually love the fuss unless I’m trying to eat (hot noodle soup especially.)

Last week Los Big Names got an article and a picture in the Sunday NY Times Theater section (2/26/06.) Si senor!

And yesterday GONYC Magazine hit the NY news stands with me Raging on the cover in a wedding dress and black boots. I’ve only gotten to see it online www.gonycmagazine.com but it looks really good, not just because I’m in it.

The famous photographer of rock star royalty Pat Johnston, took the pictures on a moments notice. I found the wedding dress randomly the day before for 25 bucks because it had been damaged in a flood. The yellow rose bouquet was from the 99 cent store.But in the picture it looked like a million bucks. And the boots peeking under the chiffon were borrowed from my dogwalker that morning.

Yesterday I was interviewed for a possible blurb in The New York Times Spring theater preview. My producer sent an email encouraging me to keep that journalist laughing. But instead I wept into her digital tape recorder. Then I told her “oh I’m just like that Million Little Pieces guy on Oprah.” Which is not true at all.

You need a plan with these interviews. Like George Bush. He walks in there with his answers all set no matter what they ask him.

Peter, my webmaster, said that if I say inflammatory things about George Bush my blog will come up in more search engines and people will be lured to my site and buy tickets to Los Big Names. I’d have Homeland Security in my front row. George Bush you are a little man! How’s that.

Speaking of search engines- I encountered one of my more elderly fans at a theater opening last weekend. She asked if I was still doing the comedy routines. I said ‘yes but I’ve also written a play that’s opening Off-Broadway.’
” Oh really when? My partner and I go to NY. How do we get tickets?”
” Do you use google? Just google my name”
“That is wonderful that you are with google. They are fantastic. Did you hear that. She’s with google now.”

I’ve really made it.