Is it possible not to feel like a big old blob when you’re sick?  All I want to do is go to the gym, but I know that I should not.  I often confuse my sickly weakness for laziness.  I will rest tonight, hoping that this weekend the sun shines on my weak self and allows me to hit the pavement and/or gym mat.  Wish me luck!

I hate that I don’t have cable on night’s like tonight, because the debate between Obama and Clinton is going to be off the hook.  Watch if you can, and think of me pouting at my computer obsessively refreshing my web browser on CNN.com.  Ugh!

I used to work in politics.  For a few years I worked on Democratic campaigns, primarily as a fundraiser.  I grew up fascinated by politics.  In high school I was involved with the local Democratic Club, volunteered, was Student Body President of my school and even was Youth Governor of Missouri (under a program called Youth in Government ran by the YMCA).  I suppose I was a mini-Jim McGreevey.

The energy a campaign has is addictive.  Working on a political campaign is not a job, it’s a lifestyle.  When you sign up for a campaign you sign away what you know to be your everyday life and give yourself over to, if you’re an idealist, something great and important for the country.  You are enlisting, but your mission is domestic (and with cuter outfits).

I love politics.  I’m addicted to political news.  When I support a candidate, I’ll devote myself over to them and their ideals.  But I left working on campaigns because I realized that I wanted more than what that life had to offer.  I wanted to date, perform, write, go to the movies and maybe lose a couple pounds.

The 2008 Presidential race is exciting.  There have been moments when I wanted to jump in and work for the candidate I believed in.  Especially since, as of today, the Democratic nominee will either be the first woman or the first black man to lead a party.  No matter whom you support, even if you’re a Republican, you’ve got to admit that’s awfully exciting!

Right now I’m incredibly proud to be a Democrat.  Frankly, I’m proud to be an American.

Goal: Learn how to make my favorite things from scratch.
Mission #2: Snickerdoodles

The Lowdown: So ladies and germs, Chef Scotty has been up to all sorts of goodness. This weekend’s cookie is the Snickerdoodle, one of my very favorites. This simple little cookie holds a mighty taste, and is sure to bring joy to your tummy.

I’ve included the recipe so you too can be as happy as I am this very moment in my wonderful Brooklyn kitchen.

Next week’s mission, the fantastic Oatmeal Raisin Cookie!

Snickerdoodle

For cookie dough:

1/2 cup of butter, softened (not margarine; it’s a cookie, not a Slim Fast bar)

1/2 shortening

1 and 1/2 cups white sugar

2 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

2 and 3/4 cup all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons cream of tartar

1 teapsoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

For rolling dough in:

2 tablespoons white sugar

2 tablespoons ground cinnamin

1) Preheat oven to 400 degrees F

2) Cream together butter, shortening, white sugar, eggs and vanilla. Blend in the flour, cream of tartar, soda and salt. Shape dough by rounded spoonfuls into balls (about the size of a walnut).

3) Roll the balls in the sugar/cinnamin mixture. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheets.

4) Bake for 8 minutes (NO LONGER, a crispy bottom to these cookies taste nasty, look for the tops to crack)

5) Prepare yourself for one fantastic treat

Not the good “Da bomb,” but rather the literal “bomb.” In stand-up, especially when trying out new material, sometimes you get a laugh, sometimes you don’t.

“You take the good,

You take the bad,

You take them both and their you have the facts of life,

The facts of life.”

- “The Fact of Life” TV theme song

Words to live by.

Below is video from my open mic tonight. I’m all about being honest, why just share the good nights with y’all? I ain’t perfect.

(Notice that I’m wearing the same outfit from the other night. I swear, I do own other clothes, honestly.)

So yeah, there it is. But I don’t feel bad, in fact, I had a fantastic time. This is how one learns.

It’s the weekend!  Are you as excited as I am?  I’ve got a full load on my plate, but I might have room for seconds.

- Friday: I’ll be hitting up an open mic, it’s all about the stage time.  After that I’ll be going to see Family Hour with Auntie Sara at Comix, it’s going to be a blast!

- Saturday: Running, yoga, an open mic, the gym and then I’ll close out the day at the local gay bar watching my friend shake his money maker.  If you’re in the city, come to Pieces.

- Sunday: Running, the gym, going to see Cloverfieldwith my cinema club and baking Snickerdoodles (in my attempt to master the homemade version’s of my favorite cookies). 

I’m already winded. 

Have a beautiful one y’all, find the joy!

I’m a jovial guy.  I crack jokes, people laugh, you know how it goes.  Sometimes people will only remember me for one joke I said, and will always, always, reference back to this joke when they encounter me. 

 There’s this straight man who works in my building (which is actually rare, it’s a mostly gay male/female dominated work place).  He works in the maintenance department (the stereotype alone is funny in and of itself), and every time we pass in the hallway he says, “Still packing,” and then proceeds to laugh heartily. 

How it all started was one morning, when putting trash into a dumpster, he told myself and the other gay I was doing it with to just pack it in there.  I bit at the opportunity to make a sex joke, and followed with something like, “Oh, well, we don’t have any trouble packing it in.” 

Personally I did not find this funny, but everybody around me broke out laughing.  Who am I to tell them it wasn’t that funny?

So now I will always be known to this straighty as the funny gay guy who tells sex jokes.  Frankly I feel a little uncomfortable having this straight man always think of me in the context of sex.  This is not the maintenance man you would see in movie’s that can only be purchased in specialty shops.  No, we’re talking Brooklyn born and raised maintenance men who has had one too many bagels in his day. 

 Maybe I should bring in examples of what packing it is like.   I don’t know, I don’t want to be responsible for a mad straight guy who goes crazy on a bunch of queens. 

Friends, we got screwed out of a great President. 

After reading my friend over at A Blue State of Mind’s blog entry about doing a Google image search of yourself, I had to do the same.  I figured something normal would come up, maybe a photo from the blog or something.  But instead I was smacked in the face with a big fat WTF?!

 It’s fat Scotty friends!  Look at me.  Screw Joan Allen (whom I totally love), but wow, is that really me?

It ain’t easy bein lazy.

I’m amazed at how difficult I find lazy days to be. I’ve had such a busy week, so taking a Scott day was very much in order. But instead of getting fresh with the couch, I felt the need to…

- Clean

- Grocery shop

- Bake

- Go on a light run

- Cook a fantastic dinner

Hmm, I need a lesson in laziness.

So, while binging on the fantastic chocolate chip cookies I made (seriously, they’re like professional), I was able to upload the video of my stand-up the other night.

It went alright, not an A, not an F, more like a C+. I don’t know, see for yourself with the video below. It’s all about the stage time, and there were some fantastic people in the audience. All in all it was a great night.

BTW, big thanks to everyone who inquired about how the stand-up went. That was very sweet, I truly appreciate it.

Enjoy!

I feel I’m at the age where everything I do is a fight between choosing the funky direction or the practical direction.  Everyday the two sides collide.  Tight jeans or loose Gap jeans?  Cute but not winter friendly Converse shoes or arch supporting Asics?  Bikini briefs or free hanging Fruit-of-the-Looms?

This debate even applies to men.  My mid-section tells me to go for the hipster guys with a funky fashion sense (and often times a peculiar odor), but lately my brain has been telling me to go for the young professional type, conservative like.  The great question is, do I go for the guy wearing khaki’s pants or the one who isn’t wearing pants?

This is only going to get worse as I get older.  What if I blended the two worlds?  Wore Converse shoes with khaki pants?  Dated the professional type while quietly wearing naughty underwear?  Hmm? 

I feel that’s just setting me up to become that creepy 50 year old with a funky gelled hair-do who has a MySpace profile that starts with, “You’re only as young as you feel.” 

****     ****     ****

 BTW, check out Danny Leary and Shawn Hollenbach, two great comics.  I performed with them last night at the Laugh Lounge, got to know them afterwards.  Fantastic fellas!