I cannot get myself motivated to do much of anything. Maybe it’s the sunshine that’s finally hitting this gray town. Maybe it’s the weird energy around the Boston Comedy Fest. In past years, it’s been fun, lively with a lot of camraderie and drinking and folks being pretty happy to be part of a larger group of people also interested in comedy and shit like that. This year, the buzz is pretty damned low and nearly drowned by the negative sub-plots of back-stabbing and all that are always part of the scene. You know, it’s show folk and performers, so everyone’s a bit of a diva or ready to be wounded at the wrong look, and there is always, always, always stories of who hates who, who’s fucking who, who used to fuck but now hates, who hates but now fucks, and all of the kiss-kiss, hug-hug shallow glad handing you could hope for in a lifetime. But all of that is generally surface emotion shadowed and mitigated by talented people having fun doing what they do and remembering it’s supposed to be funny.

This year there just ain’t the fun, somehow. Of course, it doesn’t help that even though it’s called “Boston” Comedy Fest, a lot of the people who live here aren’t part of it. On top of that, it magnifies the great Boston-Cambridge divide, which is just so fucking ludicrous the less said about it the better.

Or maybe my lack of motivation is because of the sinkhole in the middle of my day of a goodbye party for someone who’s been laid off. But, it’s not like a real, straightforward layoff, it’s a slimy restructuring is just as good a time as any to throw some stuff overboard that you no longer loved. Cynical and cold with a shiny, warm party exterior. I like my hate, anger and disappointment right out there swinging in the wind, where everyone can see it. A piece of shit situation with a fucking awesomely gorgeous bow on top and a red cherry is still a fucking piece of shit.

The chick being feted stayed through the whole maximum time required to collect every dime of her severance pay, painful months of not copping to anyone that this summer of time off wasn’t her idea. Not me, baby. You mention where the coats are kept, and moments later I have left the party. Unless my only possible option left is toothless crack whore, I ain’t hanging out, making nicey nice to help you and your guilt get ready for work life without me. Nosiree Bob. Maybe that’s because I like my teeth (especially since my sister gave me the sweet Oral-B electric brushing thing that keeps my pearly whites pearly). Or maybe it’s because I carry an excess or just enough of a thing called pride.

I won’t even go on about the whole choking up thing. But, you lay me off, I am not giving you a tearful I will miss you goodbye you’ve been great goodbye. Fuck no, my crying will be done in repressed silence alone, like it’s meant to be.

SOOOO, awkward work goodbye party made even more awkward by stupid chitchat moment — Someone mentions the “Future Mrs.” and I have done or still do stand-up comedy around Cambridge. New, temp girl, who is freakishly awkward and know-it-all-y attempts conversation by telling me about a comedy club. She describes by location and scarce details on when and why and remembers it’s a Chinese restaurant and maybe I should look into it. The place she describes is the Comedy Studio at the Hong Kong Restaurant in Harvard Square. A weird moment of silence is then led by me as I grapple in my brain for a polite way to say no fucking shit, Einstein, you’ve basically just pinpointed the home club of both “Future Mrs.” and me.

(I’ll say nothing on Julie trying to get me to tell a joke. The dicey part being that both “Future Mrs.” and I say shit on stage that we wouldn’t be able to get away with at work. “Future Mrs.,” if you see this, next time that comes up, you better be prepared for me to at the very least bring up anal as a fun joke topic in the office.)

Next time someone tells me they’re in a band in Cambridge, I’m going to ask them if they ever heard of a place called the Middle West or maybe the Middle East.

My only hope is someday soon the same chick advises one of the researchers on what journals they should reading or other cool places to get scientific ideas percolating.