What Happens When You Stop Scrolling

According to the internet, a significant amount of people are "chugging heroin" and "punching strangers." Learn something new every day.

We’ve hit that sweet spot.

That time of year when we really decide if the statement “New Year, New Me” will really mean anything or if we will just divert back to our silly old selves and down another late night box of Krispy Kremes.

The fireworks have subsided, we’re slowly coming out of our New Year’s hungover hazes; it’s game time.

For those of you that don’t know, or don’t care to know (although I think I can safely assume that if you are reading this you care to know…Hi Mom) I’ve been in an online dating frenzy since my last long term relationship several years ago. The conversation went like this:

Lexi: “You should get Tinder…”

Me: “I don’t know how to build a fire…”

*hands phone*

Me: “Hey! This guy likes me!”

And the rest, they say, is ridiculous history.

Right after the New Year I ended my decidedly last Tinder adventure. The conversation came after two months of hanging out with a nice gentleman who I thought could be the end of my ceaseless venture for love on a screen.

Well, he was the end to be sure. But not in the way I’d hoped.

“Hey, have you given any thought to where you see this going?” I said stupidly after handing him a loaf of stale banana bread and a Christmas card.

“Yeah, about that…I don’t see this going…well, anywhere.”

The last two months of my life went up into the air and disappeared with a metaphoric poof noise.

He calmly explained to me that he didn’t believe in relationships, that he didn’t ever see himself with anyone for the rest of his life. He told me that he wanted to be selfish and take care of himself.

All good things I thought, but that didn’t make me turn any less a shade of Sheet of Paper White.

It then occurred to me that to this man, this older, unmarried man, I was interchangeable. It didn’t seem to bug him that we’d been spending a good deal of time together for the past two months.

He didn’t seem to be “catching the feels” like I was.

But the idea that I could be anyone –the funniest, smartest, most supermodel-like woman on the planet –none of that would matter because this man truly doesn’t want to open himself up to another human that way. And that I was trying to negotiate who I was in the process was completely ludicrous.

This is what screens can do to you.

They can give you what you want in the moment. An attractive face, a pleasant conversation, an endless running document of engagement updates that reassure you that you will indeed die alone.

But what happens when you stop scrolling?

Can you even stop? Is there a way?

It had never occurred to me that this, this simple little toxic thing could make or break my happiness for 2016. When I got home from the heartbreaking conversation that left me wondering if I’d ever find love I deleted my online dating accounts.

This can’t be the only way, it just can’t be.

Mindless scrolling through faces and “About Me” bios that have only led me down the path of destruction and heartache; there’s just got to be a better way.

But I always do this, I thought. I delete it all and then go back after a few months of boredom. But why? Why am I even bored in the first place?

Is my life that comparable to staring at a blank wall that I feel the need to do these things?

Of course not.

If you spent even thirty seconds in my classroom you’d find that the word “boredom” does not exist here.

To research for myself how much better my life could be without scrolling, I went ahead and deleted Facebook off my phone as well. I still exist out there, but now this means that I have to physically get on a computer to scroll, which is a lot slower and leads to much smaller amounts of time spent mindlessly rolling through other people’s lives.

Low and behold this is what I have discovered since I have made these two tiny changes:

1. I see things more.

2. I see people more.

3. I don’t know when people’s birthday’s are.

4. I have more time to read.

5. I have more time to write.

6. I have more time for a lot of things.

7. I call people more.

8. I don’t get as jealous of other people’s lives.

9. I don’t hate myself for wasting my life on my phone.

10. I don’t get gross or sexist messages from unidentified gentleman callers.

11. I have more time to cook and don’t accidentally set things of fire because I’m not paying attention.

12. I’m existentially happier.

There you have it.

Scrolling can numb our brains and often make us hate ourselves. It dehumanizes us and is absolutely no fun when used in excess, which is how most of us use it. Technology and “social” networking are here to stay, but we don’t have to start the zombie apocalypse just yet. We have the power to control how we spend our time and what we spend it on.

Sure, you can still find me laughing it up on Snapchat about my hilarious teacher life and occasionally posting videos of my comedy on Instagram, but you can rest easy knowing that this gal is #TinderFree2016 #FreeFromTheScreen2016

Pretty much anything that rhymes with “free” and “2016.”

7 Easy Steps to Sucking at Adulthood

"Become an adult," They said.  "It will be fun," They said.

Doing the dishes has always been my favorite.  Call it an odd pastime, but the idea of cleaning a sink full of dirty pots and pans gives me ease just about any day of the week.  During my student teaching semester my favorite thing to do was to clean out the coffee maker and mugs at the end of each day. 

The reason for this is simple: it’s predictable. 

No students to talk back to me or refuse to do an assignment, no meetings to attend, no hustle and bustle of angry cars on the road; just a quiet sink and a sponge. 

It soothes me even on my worst days. 

And not only is this routine predictable, but it’s safe.  I can easily control my life in that tiny bit of space and time.

As I stood at my sink just a moment ago scrapping off burnt plastic from a cookie sheet that nearly set my apartment on fire I couldn’t help but giggle at my altogether failed attempts at adulthood. 

Calm down, Mom.  I'm fine.

Some of this is to be expected.

Newly recovered from a traumatic brain injury?  Yes.

First year teacher?  That’s me.

Trying to live on your own for the first time in a new city with little to no life experience?  Oh, hey.  Me again. 

I knew this day would come.  I even blogged about it one time (see “Fake Adulthood and Other Things I Suck At").

But this time the struggle is, how you say, real. 

Very fucking real.

Because I function best at a shit-show level of 75, I shall break down for you the real life adulty things that have come around to bite me in the 23 year old ass of mine:

1. Student Loans: Long been a thing that I “didn’t have to worry about right now,” student loans payments are right around the corner of “Adulthoodsucksville” and “Whatareresponsibilities” Street. I should be a city planner. Those are great street names. And something I want to point out is that not only have I sucked at finding any affordable education throughout my entire life, but also at filling out nearly every piece of paperwork associated with just about everything.

2. Bills: There was this one time this summer when I forgot to fill out a piece of paperwork for direct deposit (surprise, surprise) and ended up having my entire paycheck given to me on a temporary debit card. Fast forward to just a week ago when I bought a Chipotle burrito with said card and over drafted the account by a whopping $4. Today was going to be the day that I paid off the measly $4 and moved on with my life before they started charging me ungodly amounts of money on a card I don’t use. Three locations and several pieces of paperwork later I finally paid the $4…oh, but the minimum for that payment is actually $10…and there is a $3.95 processing fee. Fine. Whatever.

3. Technology: While driving all around Denver looking for the right bank location to fill out paperwork for a pathetic $4 bill, my GPS decided not to work and I ended up lost in the city for an hour cursing my inability to effectively navigate a town that I have lived in for my entire life.

4. Driving: If you were looking for the curb, I found it. And two blocks from my apartment that I was trying so desperately to get back to before I lost my sanity with the passing wind. My right tire was flat as a pancake and in a truly non-feminist way I called my brother to help me change it. This was also the highlight of my day and cost me an exciting $59 dollars to get two new tires. I say exciting because in actuality I think tires cost a lot more than that these days. And I think the mechanic must have felt really sorry for me and thought I was homeless or something so he gave me a discount. That or he thought I was cute. I’ll take either honestly.

5. Parking: What’s that? A parking ticket you say? Sure, I’ll be responsible and pay that right away. Wait. Where the fuck did I put that parking citation? No, really. It’s fine. I’ll just call the city of Denver and talk to a human who will surely help me. Oh? They don’t employ humans anymore in call centers? Oh, that’s fine. I’ll just describe my brain injury and inability to keep track of tiny slips of paper to a robot. Good plan.

6. Cooking/Not Setting The Apartment on Fire: I got so excited to buy the correct size cookie sheets that would fit in my prehistoric oven that I forgot to take the paper off of one of them that was stored below. Haven’t eaten all day because apparently I have to feed myself because my parents aren't around to do it. Let’s make a pizza! That sounds niiiiiice. Cue mass panic and realization that I don’t yet own a fire extinguisher, however I might clearly need one in a moment if I don’t figure out what’s going on here with this smoking business.

7. Teaching: Yep. Ask me how much I have planned for this week? Go ahead. Ask away. Oh? You want to know how many papers I have graded over Fall Break? Yeah??? YOU WANNA TAKE THIS OUTSIDE, PUNK.

Alright.  That’s enough whining for one blog post.  All things considered I have it pretty good these days despite my hilarious missteps and laughable behavior.  And it gives me solace to know that my exciting life can always put a friend in a good mood when they hear the newest shenanigans that I've gotten myself into these days.  

What’s that one Smashmouth song?

“I get knocked down, but I get up again.  Yuh neva’ gonna get me down?”

Yeah.  Something like that.  

"Excuse me Trump, I'ma Let You Finish..."

Trump: 0, Corncob: 1

Okay.  So I’m not one to rant about my political views.  Like ever. 

When my students ask me who I’m voting for I say Tom Hanks. 

I don’t often find value in spewing my political opinions on others because so many people do that already so who’s even got time to listen to what I have to say on the matter?

However lately things have gone too far and I shan’t hold me tongue any longer.  No I shan’t.

The political platform used to be a place to instigate change; a place to transform the nation and heal the country after wartime woes.  Politics have always been a means to create equality and unity on a national scale.  Now, let’s be clear on one thing:

Political leaders have always been hated.

After Abraham Lincoln was elected the 16th president of the United States he literally had to be shipped secretly in a midnight train to the White House to avoid assassination attempts. 

Rough gig, Abe.

Historically, all presidential leaders and candidates have been criticized for some reason or another.  I’m sure if I ran for president I’d have my own personal team of specialists just to sort through all the hate mail. 

But I’m not running for president you see, because I’m not qualified to do so.

Running a country is kind of a big job to do.  It requires knowledge of international affairs, negotiation techniques, economic wherewithal, public speaking skills, and like a lot of paperwork and signing of serious looking things like Amendments to the Constitution and education bills and whatnot. 

That’s a lot of power for one person.  But as Spiderman’s uncle once said,

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

And I rather liked that guy.

Maybe he should run for president.  Oh wait, that bad guy in the first movie killed him.  Darn it.

The reason I’m writing today is not to go on a gigantic sh-peal about politics and tell you who’s agenda is the worst or why our country is doomed.

Nah.

I simply want to point out that things are getting out of hand and we should all promptly pull our heads out of our you-know-what’s when it comes to politics in America.

Let’s just broach the topic of Donald Trump.  To me he’s a topic of discussion, yes a person (albeit one with a horrific head of hair), but also the butt of every joke I hear these days. 

For the longest time I paid no attention to Trump because I was sure it was a publicity stunt and would blow over in a matter of weeks along with his hair piece.  My mother refers to him as a "flash in the pan;" sure to make a big headline but not something to last over time.  Nope, still hearing about that guy.  So I did some research and found some of his policies.

Immigration Reform: According to Trump’s website, his campaign to “Make America Great Again” contains three pillars of immigration reform:

1. A nation without borders is not a nation. There must be a wall across the southern border.

2. A nation without laws is not a nation. Laws passed in accordance with our Constitutional system of government must be enforced.

3. A nation that does not serve its own citizens is not a nation. Any immigration plan must improve jobs, wages and security for all Americans.

Included in this reform is his campaign to end Birthright Citizenship and deport all illegal aliens from the United States back to Mexico.  Now this is a hot button, so we’re not going to get into it right now. 

But I do think to really understand this issue we have to go back in history and back to our roots.  The true Americans, meaning the first Americans who actually lived on this land since day one, have all been slaughtered and moved onto small reservations. 

There I said it. 

Native Americans.  They are the true Americans.  The rest of us came from elsewhere and “claimed” this country as our own as is the human way for all of history of all time.  So historically speaking we are all immigrants of some kind, but that’s a whole separate conversation and you can now send hate mail to my receptionist Tammy.

Aside from Trump’s immigration reform (which we will not get into right now as I said), there’s not a whole lot I can gather about his political platform from his campaign website.  So I did more research.  What I found was a list of country issues and his stances on them, supported by citations and direct quotes.  You can find the full list here.

I will say that not all of his positions are publicized by the media.  But if you look a bit closer at some of the hot buttons like civil rights, you can see he has changed his mind about them in the past few years and made quite a few headlines as of late.

If you were wondering about his take on women as “fat pigs, dogs, slobs, and disgusting animals,” you can find his thoughts as well as a video with Fox News here:   

Now as if it weren’t enough that this man is trying to become president, we now have Exhibit B:

Kanye West, future presidential candidate in 2020.

All Hail Yeezy.

For Jimmy Kimmel’s comparison of these two candidate’s here’s this:

I invite you now to join me as I slam my frontal lobe into the nearest hard surface.

How To Be in an Improv Class with a Sexist Frat Boy

I realize that I'm about to open up a juicy can of worms here.  But let's do this thing.

Bring it.

As I sit absorbing last week's festivities I can't help but contemplate a noticeable pattern in comedy: Careless Sexism.

I spent last week gallivanting in New York City taking an intensive Improv 101 course with the Upright Citizen's Brigade.  I loved the learning that took place and I met a lot of great people.  While it was a beginner class, it was a pretty mixed variety of talent and interest levels.

Some people in the class were stand up comedians who wanted to hone their ability to think on their feet.  Some were just graduating high school and looking for something new to try.  Some were fellow writers.

And a select few were misogynistic assholes.

Now let's take a pause here.

In all comedy - be it stand up, improv, or sketch - there is this thing called "The Low Hanging Fruit."  Dick jokes, racial slurs, jabs at the disabled, women suck.

Sure, sure.  If you're thinking it then it's probably been done before.  And some comedians can actually obtain this Low Hanging Fruit in a tasteful and funny manner.

After all, who doesn't love a good poop joke?

That's not the point I'm making here.  My aim is not to eliminate all inappropriate content from the comedy world and give everyone a soccer trophy.  Low Hanging Fruit jokes are here and they are here to stay.

But if I've learned anything from improv it's support.  Yes, and.

Being able to stand next to your scene partner and support them unconditionally.  To be the trapeze artist; to catch them when they throw themselves into the comedic unknown.  Because support was the pillar that I was taught to place improv UPon, the idea of throwing your scene partner under the bus, whether intentional or accidental, eats at the very core of my being.

So naturally it came as quite a shock when I began tallying up the amount of back-handed and sexist comments made in a variety of scenes during my week-long course.

I get it.  Improv is nerve-racking. 

The thought of having to say something funny in an instant can make even the most level-headed humans become riddled with anxiety.  But here's a fun case study.

Picture this improvised scene:

Two disgruntled men are standing outside of a house that has just been foreclosed on.  The house belongs to Steve.  Steve's neighbor and friend, Bob stands with him.  They are both upset and throwing rocks at the house in frustration.

Steve: Man, this sucks.

Bob: Yeah, dude. It does. You just keep doing crazy things and things keep happening to you. This is some bad luck.

Steve: Yeah. (Throws rock at house) I just hope I can beat this pattern...

Bob: Yeah, just like you beat your wife last night...

While the exact details of this scene are fuzzy to me now, I will never forget the sharp pain that hit my gut as I watched these words leave his lips.  Collectively the entire class's jaws dropped to the floor.

Are you fucking kidding me?  No, you are not kidding me because when people kid it's actually funny.

When, and I repeat when has violence against women ever been funny?

This isn't Low Hanging Fruit, my friend.  This is Pull Your Head Out Of Your Asshole and Think About What You Are Saying. 

In addition to the wife-beating comment, I also tallied up a garden variety of other comments including calling a woman a "bitch" for no reason, a nude dating scene where a woman was told to keep her legs closed because "I don't want to see that while I'm eating" as he proceeded to wave his parts around, and even a comment made to an immigrant waiter to "go away, you're taking good people's jobs."

Allow me to poke holes in why these comments are not funny from a non-feminist perspective because while my feminist insides are screaming I do think it's important to separate the two.

Here are my discontents as a comedian:

1. In improv, it is essential to play "to the top of your intelligence." This means that improvisors must choose content with the logic and reasoning parts of their brains. It then follows that if you are playing a circus clown that you might be knowledgeable on which types of clown shoes produce the best squeaky noise and how to best tie balloon animals at a children's birthday party. Therefore if you are going to make a choice to call a woman a bitch, you had better be making an intellectual social commentary on the topic. See video below for the kings of social commentary, Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele.

1. There's so much more to play with in an improvised scene than the obvious. Why limit yourself? A nude dating scene at a restaurant could be so much funnier if other things were considered. Does this restaurant have any nude meal deals? Topless Tapas for $5.99? Are you required to shower before before you dine like at a public pool? I have so many questions about this reality and none of them include you shaming a women's body parts.

2. If you are going to take a stance on a political issue, be it immigration, abortion, gun laws, gay rights, etc. you best be prepared to get down and dirty with the details. A simple comment will simply not do. That's just lazy comedy. Which "good people" is this immigrant taking jobs from? Which jobs? Do you have a proposed solution to the immigration policy? Shall we build a moat around America and pour scalding hot oil down on anyone who attempts to enter our castle doors? I want the details here, people.

It came as no surprise when I learned that one of the gentlemen with the above comments is joining a frat this year and only has two female artists on his iPod.  He was also convinced that the best way to get women to talk to him on Tinder was to say really offensive, gross things to them.

Classy, bro.

Now I want to also make a point of saying that I understand that not all men in frats are sexist scumbags.  It would be unfair to classify all men in this way.  It just so happened that the improvisor I took issue with just so happened to be in a frat and just so happened to have some very interesting views on women.  Maybe some views that he doesn't even realize are stone cold sexism.

Some might simply say, "Boys will be boys," to which I say no.  Absolutely not.

Humans should be humans.

Teach your sons and daughters to be smart with their humor.  Speak up when you don't feel empowered.  And shape up when you say something stupid.

Sometimes we get nervous and sometimes we grab onto the Low Hanging Fruit because it's right at our immature fingertips.

But for the love of all that is Holy, please, please don't be that person.

Joining the Good Ol' Boy's Club: Women and Stand Up Comedy

I watched a documentary recently called Women Aren't Funny.   In the piece, comedian Bonnie McFarlane and company react to the hot debate spurred by belated Christopher Hitchens' article in Vanity Fair in 2007 titled Why Women Aren't Funny.  The article sparked so much of a response that it has since been taken off of the Vanity Fair website.  So McFarlane went on a hunt for the real answer to the question:

Well, are women funny?

While we are a progressive society and one that promotes the equality of the sexes, fair treatment in the workforce, and the elimination of the glass ceiling for women, you'd be surprised how many times I've heard the answer, "No" to this question.

From men and women, mind you.

In Hitchens' article it would appear that women are certainly not. Here's my favorite part:

"Humor is part of the armor-plate with which to resist what is already farcical enough. (Perhaps not by coincidence, battered as they are by motherfucking nature, men tend to refer to life itself as a bitch.) Whereas women, bless their tender hearts, would prefer that life be fair, and even sweet, rather than the sordid mess it actually is. Jokes about calamitous visits to the doctor or the shrink or the bathroom, or the venting of sexual frustration on furry domestic animals, are a male province."

Oh, bless my tender, fragile heart, Hitchens. You are right. My life experience with a battered heart and a broken brain are jokes for a man to tell. 

I can't even believe we're even having this discussion about whether or not women are funny, but whatever.  I hope you are doing stand up in a hell surrounded by women that are funnier than you and refuse to have sex with you, Sir Hitchens.

My condolences (he passed away in 2011...and I really am sorry about that...but like, I'm also offended by your ridiculous arguments).

To see more of his thoughts on how unfunny women are, click here for an exclusive interview.

For just about a year now I have been slowly experimenting with the Denver Stand Up scene.  It started off as little more than a silly bet from a college buddy one drunken summer night last August.  We both confessed that we'd always wanted to do it.  So she called the nearby comedy club and we signed up for an open mic that evening.

When we showed up the place was packed.  Mostly with men.  So we signed up and were randomized as numbers 14 and 18 on a list of 30-40 other comedians.  We then went down the street to go take some shots of liquid courage before our sets.  I figured my nerves could take a chill pill after a Rum and Coke and a few dollar tacos.

As we stumbled back to the comedy club in a stupor, I noticed my entire body tense up.  I brought with me at least 6 friends who I trusted to laugh at me no matter what happened up there, but I felt uneasy. 

An alien dropping in to survey a nearby galaxy of strange creatures.

I'd been introduced to the improv comedy world before and felt as though women were on the rise of doing comedy.  I was on an all-female improv team called Amelia's AirHearts and my college improv club almost had more women than men involved in comedy.  But this was different.  The few sets before mine and my friends consisted of racist, sexist, and downright offensive content matter told by and for a male audience.

I was about to talk about 4 year olds and that time a guy held my face on a date.  Was I going to fit in here?

Then I was announced on stage.  The Emcee made a comment about my gender in the worst way possible.

"Ohhh, it's a female comedian, everybody!  Look at that!"

I suddenly felt like the bearded lady at a freak show.  I started to question if I belonged in this setting or if I was just another strange thing that needed to be kicked swiftly off the stage and into a burning funeral pyre along with other Devil-worshiping witches.

I proceeded with my set in determination; 8 minutes that felt like 30 seconds but also 30 years at the same time.  I did my bits, got some laughs, and survived it with relatively few speech slurring incidents.  Since that first rough go at it I have taken it upon myself to go fairly sporadically to several other comedy clubs, dive bars, and coffee shops in the Denver Metro.  I'm doing my best and I'm surviving.

But that's the thing: some women are merely surviving at stand up, not thriving.

This is not to say that there are not successful female comedians, we all know there are.

Ellen Degeneres, Amy Schumer, Tina Fey, Amy Pohler, Mindy Kaling, Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Kate McKinnon, Iliza Shlesinger, Whitney Cummings, Sarah Silverman, Joan Rivers, Wanda Sykes, Natasha Leggero, Maria Bamford, Ilana Glazer, Abbi Jacobson, like does everyone really need a reminder of how funny women are?

And these are just some of the big names.  There are countless amounts of women trying to break into comedy the way these women have successfully done.  And while women have made incredible progress in comedy, the stand up scene still leaves a lot to be desired.

If you pop into the Denver open mic scene on any given night you might find a handful of women there on stage.  Some are hosting, some performing, some watching. 

When I go to open mics I get some weird looks at the sign up.  Mostly because I look 12 and not old enough to be allowed in the bar much less do comedy, but also because I'm still a new face.  I'm not part of the boys club just yet.  I haven't been welcomed ceremoniously.  I'm just kind of there.  Occasionally shaking things up for the sausage-fest.

I feel a lot of feelings about doing stand up comedy as a woman.

Part of me feels like I could actually get good at it eventually.  Like anything else, comedy is a skill that I truly believe can be learned by anyone.  Rome wasn't built in a day and neither was Ellen.  So I feel encouraged to hone the craft and gain confidence in my comedic abilities.

Part of me feels strange; feelings of unwelcome surface as they did my first time.  Laughs seem harder to come by when you're not the usual but the unfamiliar. 

And part of me feels outraged, militant even. 

Why does this guy get to get up there and talk about his genitalia and hate of women for 5-10 minutes and get laughs and I get silence after quality insight on small children and brain injuries?

There have been times I have walked out of open mics offended and utterly upset.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe violence against women has ever been a laughing matter.

But what do I know.  I'm brain damaged after all.

Again, I am a newbie to the Denver stand up scene and I am still learning its in's and out's.  I claim no expertise in this field nor do my affiliates, my associates, or my dog.  Some are delightful with true talent.  Some have great happy hour specials.  Pretty much all of them have welcomed me with open arms and haven't thrown cabbage at me yet.

But there's still some well needed growing pains that need to occur before women are on equal footing with men in the comedy game.

I think the reason for people answering "No" to the question "Are Women Funny?" is that:

a. They may have suffered mass head trauma, severe concussions, or may have lost the ability to string together rational thoughts,

b. They simply don't see as many women doing comedy and therefore if you don't see something then it doesn't exist,

c. Women being funny all of the sudden is threatening to a patriarchy that yes, is still alive and well.

It's a double-edged sword for female comedians.  Or as I like to call them: "comedians."

Not only do we feel put on the spot by our unique gender to a field that is predominately male-centered, but it is likely that we feel pressure to be that much funnier just to prove to the world that yes, we are actually funny.

If you happen upon a conversation about women in comedy, it is likely that you'll hear the following comments:

"She's too raunchy."

"She just talks about dating all the time."

"I can't believe she thought it was okay to discuss her period.  Ew.  That's disgusting."

Really?

You don't find it acceptable for me to discuss a natural occurrence that happens within my body monthly that makes it possible to produce human life?

Well that's interesting.

The fact of the matter is that it really shouldn't matter who or what you are, you should be able to do comedic material on anything that's witty, truthful, or relatable.  If women want to tell bodily jokes like some men do, then why shouldn't they?  Shouldn't the same rules apply to everyone?

By the way, if you're a comedian I kind of don't recommend the "shock and awe" method.  This includes racist, sexist, ageist, homophobic, and really any other highly offensive content. 

Except for poop jokes.  Those are pretty much always a win-win scenario.

Just last week I was at an open mic where a gentleman told a bit about black people not being able to swim.  Uncomfortable laughs and disappointed head nods followed.  

Like. Why.

I have to give my partner in crime and best friend Brennyn mad props for escorting me to the variety of strange and uncomfortable open mics that I have ventured into.  She has watched in agony as comedians make rude, outlandish remarks on stage and remained completely supportive of my mediocre comedic timing.  Like I said, I'm no expert just yet.  I still have a long way to go before I feel at ease in my own skin in the stand up scene.

Just find comfort in the fact that there is indeed a place for women in comedy as there always has been.  It takes some women years to be as successful as their male counterparts, but there is no secret to the funny.  It's just hard work, dedication, and the ability to tell it like it is.

If you are a woman and have been contemplating comedy and your ability to be funny, know this:

You can do this.

Funny women are here.  And they are here to stay.