Coq au Vin
I don't just want to hawk a show I'm doing this Sunday becuase that would make today's entry way too spamy. So I'll tell you two interesting tidbits first:
I performed for thousands of people last weekend in DC. I hung with members of Congress, met a very nice former member of SNL (one I had always had a wee little comedy groupie crush on), and partied down at the house of an infamous former president's wife's brother. Why do I put it that way? It is so the poor sap isn't associated with me via a Google search... that couldn't be good for either of us.
In other news, the BBC has just announced they are adding even more breakthrough programming to their line-up - cool!
Now on to the spam-a-riffic info on how to see me in a big little show:
"Friends and Family"
Sunday, May 2nd @8pm
Beauty Bar
231 E. 14th Street, between 2nd & 3rd Aves.
FREE
Hosted by Josh Haness, this fun show with mod stage also features the comic stylings of Matt Gitlin, Seth Morris and me, Susie Felber.
PS You might've noticed this post has nothing to do with coq au vin. I noticed that too. Freakin' weird, right? It must be a Blogger bug because I always write pithy titles.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Journalism Piss up
When I was a little ringlet-haired thing riding in our faux wood-trimmed Ford station wagon, I got very upset as we passed a cemetery.
When asked what was wrong, it was with bitter jealousy that I remarked, "Dead people always get the best flowers. It's not fair!"
Yeah, I would've forgotten that if not for the fact that each time my family drove by a graveyard they seemed to slow down as they recounted the hilarity of that moment for eveyone's pleasure but mine.
I'm happy to report that at this great age I am not jealous of dead people's flowers...
I'm insanely jealous of the glowing and extended obits that always seem to be reserved for journalists.
Still, this one in The Washionton Post was very cool.
Yes, it's another long-winded eulogy to a journalist, but I truly liked this one for long, long time Washington Post columnist Mary McGrory.
Since the Post requires annoying yet free registration, I've excerpted my favorite part here, for you:
"Gailey talked of the heyday of the Star, when a bottle of booze might one day pop up in the newsroom and lead to an inevitable song-filled gathering outside McGrory's office. She never could get accustomed to The Post's sober newsroom events centered around a ceremonial cake, Gailey said. Even when the paper won three Pulitzers, everyone just ate cake. She thought of retiring, but couldn't. "She simply could not bring herself to face the cake."
Yes, please bring back the booze and the flasks in the drawers of the hardened old newsmen, the green glass-shaded desk lamps, the smoke-filled newsrooms, the little leather visors and all the other things that would make me run, not walk, to go work at a newspaper.
Please?
When I was a little ringlet-haired thing riding in our faux wood-trimmed Ford station wagon, I got very upset as we passed a cemetery.
When asked what was wrong, it was with bitter jealousy that I remarked, "Dead people always get the best flowers. It's not fair!"
Yeah, I would've forgotten that if not for the fact that each time my family drove by a graveyard they seemed to slow down as they recounted the hilarity of that moment for eveyone's pleasure but mine.
I'm happy to report that at this great age I am not jealous of dead people's flowers...
I'm insanely jealous of the glowing and extended obits that always seem to be reserved for journalists.
Still, this one in The Washionton Post was very cool.
Yes, it's another long-winded eulogy to a journalist, but I truly liked this one for long, long time Washington Post columnist Mary McGrory.
Since the Post requires annoying yet free registration, I've excerpted my favorite part here, for you:
"Gailey talked of the heyday of the Star, when a bottle of booze might one day pop up in the newsroom and lead to an inevitable song-filled gathering outside McGrory's office. She never could get accustomed to The Post's sober newsroom events centered around a ceremonial cake, Gailey said. Even when the paper won three Pulitzers, everyone just ate cake. She thought of retiring, but couldn't. "She simply could not bring herself to face the cake."
Yes, please bring back the booze and the flasks in the drawers of the hardened old newsmen, the green glass-shaded desk lamps, the smoke-filled newsrooms, the little leather visors and all the other things that would make me run, not walk, to go work at a newspaper.
Please?
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Awesome show tonight
Here I am busy/lazy, mostly just cutting and pasting from the lovely Becky D's spam. Join us if you can...
TONIGHT -- Wednesday, April 21st
The B3 Comedy Lounge
33 Ave B at Third St.
Weds @ 8pm sharp
Take the f train to second Ave
$5 cover buys your first drink
(rheingold, bud, wine, soda, or bottled water)
With your host, Becky Donohue
Featuring: Credits:
Jess Wood ~ Got Wood? And a new solo show coming down the pike
Abby Scott ~ Her parents make their own grandkids
Susan Prekel ~ Montreal
Nikko ~ Man about town
Dani Cohen ~ Premium Blend/ Chapelle Show
Amber Tozer ~ Tues night show at the Laugh Lounge
Susie Felber ~ On her way to the march for women in DC to perform outdoors in the middle of the city and party down with funny feminists a plenty!
Here I am busy/lazy, mostly just cutting and pasting from the lovely Becky D's spam. Join us if you can...
TONIGHT -- Wednesday, April 21st
The B3 Comedy Lounge
33 Ave B at Third St.
Weds @ 8pm sharp
Take the f train to second Ave
$5 cover buys your first drink
(rheingold, bud, wine, soda, or bottled water)
With your host, Becky Donohue
Featuring: Credits:
Jess Wood ~ Got Wood? And a new solo show coming down the pike
Abby Scott ~ Her parents make their own grandkids
Susan Prekel ~ Montreal
Nikko ~ Man about town
Dani Cohen ~ Premium Blend/ Chapelle Show
Amber Tozer ~ Tues night show at the Laugh Lounge
Susie Felber ~ On her way to the march for women in DC to perform outdoors in the middle of the city and party down with funny feminists a plenty!
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Alive and Kicking, Kicking for Your Love
It's true I've never updated my blog religiously, but that's only because I didn't want to go through all the trouble to get a blog-friendly prayer mat, blog-scented incense, & cyber-silver blog offering plate (e.g. the ever-popular "Donate to me via Pay Pal" crap).
But there has been a rip in the blog space/time fabric since I last bragged, er, I mean, blogged here.
See I got me a shiny new job. I'm the in-house writer for a TV network that shall remain nameless.
The bad of it was that I had to quit my Comedy Central freelance stuff. You'd better check out the links to my stuff on ComedyCentral.com before they go all Felber-free.
The good of it is I'm working with wonderful people, I dig the new challenges and frankly, having been a freelance writer/performer since I left Comedy Central's staff in '98, having a regular gig is appreciated. There are lots of excellent perks to being staff in TV that I had forgotten about.
Some of the perks may not seem so great to you. On my first day when I went to the supply closet and the guy loaded me up with pens -- FREE PENS!-- why I almost cried with happiness. I'm serious. Easily pleased, I guess.
Still I wouldn't trade my freelance carving-out-a-life experience for anything. Although I didn't rake in the money (except that full year I wrote and produced promos for Lifetime and was still able to hold down a bunch of other jobs... ah, those were the days) I never had a day job, I didn't have to carry office politics around my neck, I did what I pleased and I never had a job that wasn't writing or performing.*
The freelance artist life is good. I recommend it highly. If being a freelancer doesn't kill you, it might just make you stronger.
And even if it doesn't make you stronger, it will certainly make you appreciate the free pens.
Love 4 and to my 4 loyal readers,
me
*I am leaving out my brief stint this December as a Tarot-reading psychic at Cornell medical school's HR department's Christmas party that took place at an Upper East Side Mexican Restaurant. I also neglected to mention the talent agency that booked me into a few weeks of taking surveys at both Harlem and Ozone Park Citibank's while giving away shitty water bottles while wearing an embarrassing, huge Citibank polo shirt. I do not mention these in my artist pep talk because they are too embarrassing to share and would certainly ruin my glamorous queen of all media/sexpot image.**
** I am also leaving out the horror of having no health insurance and I must therefore thank the cab drivers of NYC for not running me over during those years and my body for only giving me ailments that could be either painfully endured yet neglected for long periods of time or ailments that, in lieu of anti-biotics could be effectively treated by consuming enough Nyquil to kill a Kodiack bear.***
***I'm not sure if I spelled "Kodiack" right. You see I just read an article in Vanity Fair on some bear nut guy who travelled to Alaska only to get mauled in the end but I was sleepy and/or on the subway when I read it.****
****Oh, nothing more to say, I've simply gone asterisk-happy.
It's true I've never updated my blog religiously, but that's only because I didn't want to go through all the trouble to get a blog-friendly prayer mat, blog-scented incense, & cyber-silver blog offering plate (e.g. the ever-popular "Donate to me via Pay Pal" crap).
But there has been a rip in the blog space/time fabric since I last bragged, er, I mean, blogged here.
See I got me a shiny new job. I'm the in-house writer for a TV network that shall remain nameless.
The bad of it was that I had to quit my Comedy Central freelance stuff. You'd better check out the links to my stuff on ComedyCentral.com before they go all Felber-free.
The good of it is I'm working with wonderful people, I dig the new challenges and frankly, having been a freelance writer/performer since I left Comedy Central's staff in '98, having a regular gig is appreciated. There are lots of excellent perks to being staff in TV that I had forgotten about.
Some of the perks may not seem so great to you. On my first day when I went to the supply closet and the guy loaded me up with pens -- FREE PENS!-- why I almost cried with happiness. I'm serious. Easily pleased, I guess.
Still I wouldn't trade my freelance carving-out-a-life experience for anything. Although I didn't rake in the money (except that full year I wrote and produced promos for Lifetime and was still able to hold down a bunch of other jobs... ah, those were the days) I never had a day job, I didn't have to carry office politics around my neck, I did what I pleased and I never had a job that wasn't writing or performing.*
The freelance artist life is good. I recommend it highly. If being a freelancer doesn't kill you, it might just make you stronger.
And even if it doesn't make you stronger, it will certainly make you appreciate the free pens.
Love 4 and to my 4 loyal readers,
me
*I am leaving out my brief stint this December as a Tarot-reading psychic at Cornell medical school's HR department's Christmas party that took place at an Upper East Side Mexican Restaurant. I also neglected to mention the talent agency that booked me into a few weeks of taking surveys at both Harlem and Ozone Park Citibank's while giving away shitty water bottles while wearing an embarrassing, huge Citibank polo shirt. I do not mention these in my artist pep talk because they are too embarrassing to share and would certainly ruin my glamorous queen of all media/sexpot image.**
** I am also leaving out the horror of having no health insurance and I must therefore thank the cab drivers of NYC for not running me over during those years and my body for only giving me ailments that could be either painfully endured yet neglected for long periods of time or ailments that, in lieu of anti-biotics could be effectively treated by consuming enough Nyquil to kill a Kodiack bear.***
***I'm not sure if I spelled "Kodiack" right. You see I just read an article in Vanity Fair on some bear nut guy who travelled to Alaska only to get mauled in the end but I was sleepy and/or on the subway when I read it.****
****Oh, nothing more to say, I've simply gone asterisk-happy.
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