2022... Do we have a choice?

Hi again, and Happy New Year! It’s hysterical that my last blog post was last New Year, I suppose I have been quite busy. And the truth is no one reads these things. My engagement is much better spent on the socials you know? Gotta stay relevant! Post or die ;)

I don’t really mind if no one reads this, it might be better that way actually. Because while I do have a perfectly lovely year to share and look back on, I’m feeling more apprehensive than celebratory. So, if you’re looking for a laugh go to my TikTok (@venessaperuda) or IG (@vspiz).

But let’s start with the good stuff, yeah? 2021 I started out strong with a dry January, which is always a great way to get focused for the year ahead. February doesn’t ring a bell, just continuing to work and stay healthy most likely, same with March- Oh! I got my first vaxx dose end of March. April I went to Hawaii with a group of old friends, and celebrated my birthday floating down a stream through old mining tunnels (10/10). Summer was nice because things began to “open back up” and I brought my weekly stand-up show Belly Laugh back to Brooklyn (13/10). Late summer and into the fall my dream angels at TIPS NBC helped me set up some general meetings with casting, and directors at UCP, NBC-Universal, and Peacock. I peacock Peacock. All the meetings were over Zoom of course, but I felt seen and I feel I made a good impression. Not much has come from those meetings yet, but still a very valuable experience. I also got back in touch with folks at Avalon who initially reached out to me after the Stand Up NBC Finals Showcase. But they don’t seem interested in working with me at this point. At least I’m persistent. I started touring with Hilarious Colombian Americans! A very cool group of very talented and hard working comics, y claro soy la unica mujer del grupo. But I’ve been really well-received and I’m really looking forward to working with them in the future and getting my first set in Spanish on tape! The end of October I went to the Oregon coast with my sisters, fue magica. I got new photos done! I love them, thank you Phil Provencio, you’re the absolute best. Once the holidays came around, the world looked like it was heading back into “normalcy" I was even looking into joining a kickboxing gym. But then…

OMICRON…

Ruined… everything.

I had to cancel my weekly show, other shows I was booked on cancelled, my NYE Belly laugh Ball- cancelled. It’s been a rough month or so. I also found out the stage I produce my weekly show at is closing… to get turned into an arcade? WTF? What year is it?

My panic attacks are provoked by the fear of having to go back inside. I’ve been feeling very boxed in. And had things pulled out from under me. No me gusta. My ambition has been kicking and screaming as everything I’ve tried to build and move forward this year closes or goes dark. And here I am. Back inside. For how long…?

I have my day job, my family, and my health- I may be the only person in NYC who hasn’t been infected by omicron. I have plenty to be grateful for, and there is plenty I can create and do with the marvelous tools of present day technology. But I’m feeling a bit deflated at the moment. Like when you’re climbing a flight of stairs and you think there’s one more step at the top, but there isn’t, and your leg expects to find an elevated landing but instead your foot falls further and crashes like a horse’s stomp- and you’re bewildered for a moment. It’s that feeling. Very that.

I’m trying to be optimistic. Something bigger and better is coming. Something bigger and better is coming. I’m fine. I hope you are too. xo

2021 ... year of the Ox. Sure.

We actually made it to 2021. Despite what your brain and body may feel. Time has been weird lately. It’s found a way to extend itself into oblivion whilst also flying by at an alarming rate. And I feel ripped off. We’ve all been ripped off of a year from our lives. But, I’ve started spreading a rumor that no one has to count 2020 in their age count. You get to turn the same age this year as you did last year, because 2020 didn’t count. You’re welcome.

Looking back on 2020 I am pleased to say I accomplished some things I’m proud of. I went to Alaska for the first time. I know. I submitted two very noteworthy packets to SNL and Colbert. Rejected by both- but that’s their loss. If SNL doesn’t think a ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’ spoof sketch about Biden dying after he’s inaugurated is funny- I can’t help them. I also completed my first screenplay ‘Baby Shower’, 90min. dark comedy surrounding the question of “should I have kids??”. Based on real events. Wanna read it??

Que mas? Well I’ve made an embarrassingly ambitious goals and intentions list. So, on paper I’m very excited for the year to come. Among other things I’d like to continue to learn ASL, improve my Spanish, plan a stay in Mexico City to work on said Spanish, and perform my first set en espanol. Que chevere. And as always is the goal to finally get representation. 14th time’s a charm. Stay tuned.

More importantly, how are youuuuuuuuuuuu?

Baby It's COVID Outside

Queue that classic date-rapey tune! Here we are friends, 7 months later! 2020 is a freaking wash, people. There was a bit of social-distanced fun or normalcy that was had in the late summer. Here in NYC anyway. The rest of the Nation went about their business as usual, not giving any shits about a “global pandemic”. Cut to today, the weather is dropping like my will to shower, and we’re facing a second wave in Big City. Public schools have officially gone back to all remote, bars are closing at 10pm, gatherings are limited to 10 people- and we’re doing better than the rest of the country!

COVID cases are at a new all time high since the initial outbreak in the spring - across the country. The south and mid-west regions are aflame, hospitals are at capacity, and the people in those regions are still claiming COVID is a “hoax” until their dying breath. What a god damn mess.

And here come the Holidays!! Perfect timing…

*Hi I wrote this 11/19, then forgot about it and I’m posting it now, thanks.

‘I Broke Quarantine and I’m Going To Hell’

NYC, April something, 2020. I’ve been self-isolating and working from home for almost 3 weeks. COVID-19 is real as can be, and I am really isolating because my roommate has left me for dead and gone to a friend’s vacation home in Cape Cod. I know. 

At first it wasn’t too bad. Working from home was a breeze. I wore pajamas all day every day, Netflixing, snacking and drinking with abandon. I walked around naked, and never had to close the bathroom door. Glorious. But as the weeks passed I realized I would have to start combating this bleak existence or find my own demise.

I established a healthy daily schedule; reading, writing, meditating, exercise, healthy eating, limiting my news and screen time, and only drinking two days a week. I also made a point to connect with friends and family often. Great job, Venessa. However...

Let’s go back to the drinking thing. I was limiting the number of days I drank every week- but that didn’t really limit the amount I was drinking. Let’s just say I was treating a boozy seltzer 12-pack like a 6-pack. And even with a 6-pack I don’t think you’re supposed to drink all of them. 

Cut to: your girl is hammered on a Fri. night when I get a text from a previous suitor. We’ll call him Mr. Pancakes. The text chiming in with the ever-so-charming “Hey”.

In my defense, I’d been repeatedly turning down Mr. Pancakes in previous weeks, “What about global health crisis don’t you understand?”. But, this Friday was different. I was titty-deep in a box of wine, and drunk on a newly arrived bra and scented oils from the internet. As Lizzo would say, “Blame it on the Juice.”

The rest of that evening is clearly implicated, and mediocre. However the even more humiliating part of this story is yet to come! 

Fast forward a week or so later. Yours truly is having a difficult time peeing. The burning, irritation, and constant feeling of having to pee, all too familiar by women everywhere; a UTI. 

Now, I’m cut from a certain loud and resilient cloth that is not commonly embarrassed or sexually ashamed. But, when I had to show up at an emergency health clinic, in the middle of a pandemic, to get medicine for irresponsible sexing, I was both. The medical staff were clearly exhausted and spread thin. And when I meekly uttered “UTI” from behind my face mask at the reception desk, they still took care of me. So when I say I’m an asshole for breaking quarantine and I’m going to hell, you’d probably agree.