A couple of years ago Monica and I went to see Jon Stewart when he came to Washington. Aside from getting rousted by security guards for hanging out outside Jon Stewart's dressing room door, we were also introduced to a new comedian (well, you know... new to us... I imagine he was doing stand-up for some time before he got that gig) named Mike Birbiglia and became fast fans. Full disclosure here: I happen to know that Mike googles himself on a regular basis so I'm going to see how many times I can mention his name in order to get him to comment on my blog.

Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia

Are you ready to comment yet, Mike? I promise not to call you pudgy and awkward.

I'm not a big fan of stand-up comedy in general. I hate the idea of people standing there shooting out rapid fire jokes, one after another, which have no relation to one another. But every once in awhile a comedian manages to do stand-up in a way that makes it seem like what they're doing isn't really stand-up - it's more like a friend telling a funny story that totally fits within the conversation. Mike Birbiglia is one of those and since that fateful day when our loyalties to Jon Stewart became slightly divided, we've read Mike's Secret Public Journal faithfully, set aside time to watch his Comedy Central specials, rented those same specials on Netflix to watch the special features, and stalked him on line.

C'mon, you know you want to, Birbiglia. The comment form is at the bottom.

Okay, maybe that stalking comment put me over the top.

Anyway, Mike's had this one man show off Broadway in New York for several months now and we've been promising ourselves that we would go pretty much since it started. It was extended and we still didn't make it up there. We kind of wanted to wait until it was nicer weather so we could walk around the streets of NYC all night and not freeze to death. Finally, we heard the show was ending so we decided it was time or we'd never get to see it, so we gathered up the $1 bus tickets, made our husbands babysit, and got seats for the show.

I lost Monica straightaway, but this bear followed me up on the bus and then all over NYC.

Of course, the minute we bought tickets, we heard that the show had been extended again until June. So, thanks for nothing, Mike!

Bear enjoys pretending to maul Mike because he's covered with condiments and tastes delicious.

The tickets we got were for a show just a couple of days after our house was burglarized and I've always believed that when one is confronted with stress, one should always do the mature, adult thing and face one's troubles head on... so I ran away and went to New York. Because as we all know, I am neither mature nor adult.

One of the best things about New York City is you can walk into the Fashion Institute of Technology wearing a panda mask and no one even looks at you twice.

The show was hilarious and I didn't realize how much I'd laughed until after we came back on the bus with no heat (seriously, Megabus?!? I know you sell $1 tickets, but maybe you could charge $2 and you know... HAVE HEAT) at 3:30 in the blessed am and realized the next day that my sides hurt from laughing so much.

You see some of the craziest things on a billboard in New York City.

We walked our asses off because we were too busy looking around to realize we'd strolled over five miles by the time we got to Bleeker street and then after the show, headed back to the bus stop by way of times square - where a bear can do anything a bear wants to do.