Category Archives: Road Warrior

Michfest Dirty Girl

I spent a fabulous week under the sun and stars at Michfest and recorded some tales by the fire pit. Click link below to hear my 15 minute podcast.

The Sound Of Marga

My Tent

Passenger Gomez

Rather than forcing another blog entry today I thought I would post an unpublished entry from another travel mishap in July.
This entry below was written as ambien began to take effect on a flight to London. It’s kind of incoherent. I wrote it on my Iphone and pasted it here to fulfill my daily blog in Feb. deal.

JULY, 2009: I accidentally peed on the floor of American Airlines flight 530.  In
the bathroom if that makes this less humiliating.  I cleaned up the
the downfall with paper towels.  Washed my hands to OCD heights and
gave my self a Courtesan wash in case my pee hit me before rejoining
the flight.  So I’m still a sorry excuse for a traveller.
2 HOURS EARLIER
I chug lots of water before flights.  I heard you are supposed to
hydrate.  Other times I go entire days parched.  But on flights I’m a
camel.  GF and I are meeting in London in about 12 hours but we’re
flying separate because we can’t be normal.

GF is a dear sweet girl.  A beautiful soul.  A good girlfriend.  To
not show up in London on her rare PTO (she gots a job) To leave her
stranded would end any light in my life.  But I came so very
horrifically close.

I arrived at SFO sleep starved but dressed better than usual.  I wore
a button down shirt. Leather shoes. Laundered jeans.  And a BLACK
BLAZER. And I bought matching luggage for this trip. Because people
notice.  I don’t want trouble from customs at Heathrow.  I Have
A Persecution complex based on experience.
I used three trays going through security in SF.  I amazed myself at
my efficiency.  Getting the laptop camcorder liquid baggie shoes off.
And my two belts and several layers of jackets and shirts.  Because I
do wear lots of clothes on a flight. I am my own luggage.
I remember thinking that the ‘casual slow travelers’ behind me might
be learning a thing or 2.

I got to the airport two hours early.  But I lingered at ticketing.
Sipping my water and reapacking my carry on just right so they
couldn’t tell I overpacked.

There was only 30 minutes left by the time I sat on the dirty bench by
TSA slipping my boots on feeling like a winner.  That’s when I
couldn’t find my passport.  It started as a minor hassle but twenty
minutes later I was still at that bench tearing at myself.  My pockets
and the fake ones in my blazers. And the 50 compartments and nooks in
my stupid new bag.
I was yelling nooooo! Over and over again.  In ten minutes the plane
would leave.  I would lose my Scotland gig.  Bankrupt my producer.
Return to my SF apt in the Super shuttle.  My comic friends would make
jokes about
me.  But the only thing I couldn’t survive is telling GF. That I the
older one, the famouser one, lost my passport and she was on her own a
million miles away from me.  Or she could cancel her trip and we could
hang out at home? There would have been tears.
We would break up over it.  That’s to be expected.
2 THINGS. Know your luggage. Don’t try out a an espianoge valise with
secret panels that rip your hangnails back when your fisting around in
there groping for a thin blue book

TSA is not going to help you.  There is no team spirit with these
guys. My shirt was open below my cleavage. Accident but the cabdriver
was nice and the first class ticket agent took care of me.  I tried to
give them my attempt at femme face.  The look that says “you so strong
I can’t do anything.” This will lead to sex.  With 10 minutes left I
button my shirt and was writhing and moaning.  Thinking somebody will
attend to this crazy woman.   Homeland security had been notified
we are on alert. Screaming and acting the fool
at security is allowed.
This one big guy who I thought wa into me checked the floor and the
bins.  I said but my flight to LAX is leaving.  And I need to be on it
with my passport because I’M GoIng to LONDON!
London. Reminded me what a fool I was to watch the conclusion of DAISEY
Of LOVE.  Out of 19 dudes she picked one named LONDon.  I watched them
major tongue kiss.  I want to kiss like that.  I know saliva gets
everywhere but gimme tongue GF.

Aren’t you going to stop the plane my bags on there and
I’m blah blah…London!! They said all they could do was look on the floor but
They did check the surveillance tape as i was going through security.  And it didn’t show me dropping the passport.  He
said it had to be on me and then he asked ‘did you check your pockets’
right then I felt one liter of pure mountain water thrashing against
my bladder.    My life would be over in 10 minutes.

My legs were weak .The only thing strong in me was pee.  I considered peeing there by the X Ray where I
was repeatedly opening and closing my carry-on. The pee would feel good. Like when
it seems like a good idea in a dream but you tell yourself NO that
would make GF mad.  I would be at TSA and give them a new variable.  I
would pee. I would faint . And somehow I wake up in London.
Tsa would have a spot of tea and we wave goodbye and GF would make our
deep and slippery….
10 minutes till my flight leaves and the TSA dudes tell me that they have not sent word to the gate. See I thought people at the airport talk to each other. I thought the air traffic controller was monitering the situations.
But I was finally tipped off “We’re just Tsa talk to the gate.  I
ran to the gate in shame and fear. There were two agents one was eye
rolly but the beautiful smart one said ‘you have ten minutes to keep
looking I tore at my bags like a wolf a crazy bag lady wolf……
And that’s as far as the blogging got before I passed out in my seat.  Thought it was a gripping tale that day but no it wasn’t . Still it’s a blog entry and I need one. Oh and I did find the passport within the last minute before the closed the door. It had slipped inside the pages of my newspaper. And fell out as I ransacked and shook every thing in my bag one last time. I scrambled onto the plane with a deranged grin on my sweaty face and whacked my head hard on the overhead compartment as I put the damn bag away and later I was in the bathroom making a mess.
I did have a romantic week in London with my girlfriend and never told her I almost screwed it up. Cheerio.

Moving on. Good Times

Thanks to all of you for reading More Marga. The last entry which was unusually vitriolic got the most hits ever. Y’all like a little drama. It felt good to vent and I appreciate your comments. And I’d like to brighten the mood with a few pics from this otherwise fabulous gig in Mexico. I’m also thrilled to share quality time with the Wau Wau Sisters who are the girls pictured in More Marga’s Banner.

I know when I'm pissed off about anything I feel better if I find other pissed off people to be around like Chef Josie and Michele Balan

They say the love of a good woman will get you through the tough times or get with Tanya the Wau Wau Sister

Wau Wau Sister Adrienne is reenacting the role of people who are afraid of me on airplanes

My surprise performance today in Zihuatenejo was an unqualified SUCCESS!

See something. Say something. Then shut your pie hole.

I’m steamed. It’s 2 am in Mexico. I just did tequila shots with Chef Josie and Michelle Balan and danced on the beach to Sylvester’s “Mighty Real” on a warm night after a fun gig but thinking back to earlier events tonight makes me want to slap a ignorant bitch and her partner.  Here’s how it went down. After my show I was to do a ‘meet and greet’ with the audience and sell my merchandise. But I haven’t made any cds lately so I brought merchandise to give away, silly stuff, herbal tea bags and boxes of corn flakes that we get free at breakfast here in Club Med.  They look good with autographs.

Necessary boring logistics to feel my rage: I have been here in Ixtapa two nights so far- only two and it’s been great except for the two stupid brown-phobic she devil squares I endured tonight at the meet and greet.  I flew here from SF on a 6am flight.  When you fly at 6 am you head to the airport at 3am  so that’s one night without sleep. I have had to catch up on sleep during flights and what I do is listen to white noise on headphones and because I’m cold  I wear a hoodie up. And I wear sleep shades. Finally my hands get cold so I wear a pair of knit gloves on the plane. And I’m Latina with that brown skin that seals the deal for  white fuck vigilante from stupidville.

So tonight. I finish my show I report  to my ‘meet and greet table’ sign a bunch of tea bags, all goes well until these last two wackos show up with a question no comic ever wants to hear. “Are you looking for material?” They weren’t even looking at my tea and corn flakes. Ok fine. Tell me I say.  First they pepper me with questions as they smile proudly.”Did you fly here from LA? ” they ask. Yeah I say getting bored already- I changed planes in LA. Do you want an autograph or what I wonder? They press on “Where you sleepy and did you sit in the aisle. Did you wear gloves? We sat two rows behind you. We thought you were a terrorist.” I managed to keep my meet and greet smile on my face through all this but then they really pushed it. “We reported you. We told the flight attendant ‘keep an eye on her'” This, after a show where I spent ten minutes on racial profiling. They claimed this act of racial profiling to me without any shame. WTF did they want from me, not an autograph it seemed.

“We saw you go into your suitcase and get something.” she said” I saw the gloves. And I thought about the undewear bomber so….” She giggled. “And then we saw you on stage tonight and I asked my partner. Is that her? Hee Hee. But we did, we told the flight attendant.” Word for word my friends.

What twisted her granny panties on the plane was- once we reached cruising altitude  and we were allowed to get up- I got my gloves out of my overhead bag, put my sleeping gear on and slept for 3 hours till we landed in Mexico. And she sat there two rows behind me on her screwed up sphincter pushing her call button like Gladys Kravitz. ( a reference to Bewitched- only old people get that one)

I sleep on planes and that’s how I do it. She and her partner may not be the first white folks to  think I’m suspicous and accuse me of shit. Well who knows how many times it’s been done to me on flights and to other travellers who look “foreign. ” But that the two of these ‘ladies’ had the audacity to approach me about this after my performance, when everything should be lovely, and not in a confessional tone, not as an apology, but as a proclamation of their clueless nasty narrow minded glee – makes me reconsider “meet and greets.” And this makes me sadly acknowledge not everybody lesbian is my friend. Like these two who judged me on my skin color and “napping garb” on a plane. I have shit in common with them.  I hope they find this blog someday and know how I fucking hated being cordial with them. I wanted to pelt them with my corn flakes boxes. I only held back because I don’t fight at my gigs. But if you two finger pointing finger bangers ever read this I want you to know- that you were terrorists of  my night. You like judging people by appearance – you look like apple head dolls. That’s not a judgement but you look like apple head dolls. And when I told you tonight that your story was “kinda weird” what I meant was both of you FUCK OFF!

The Road Trip

with Thai Rivera and Marty Grimes at Mcdonald's (for the bathroom)

with Thai Rivera and Marty Grimes at Mcdonald's (for the bathroom)

I engineered a little road trip last weekend with a couple of my favorite comics and gay boyfriends. There’s something cool about driving into a town for the gig – probably because I can’t drive. But I love the car talk and personal info you share on long drives and stopping for crappy food and roadside attractions (see video) along the way. French fries create a bond. It felt like I was in a rock band in an economy car. We drove- by we I mean Marty – all the way up to Humboldt County, didn’t get stoned, but the bartender at our gig at Auntie Mo’s Lounge in Eureka gave us 5 drink tickets each which I thought was way more than necessary. And then (watch video) all my drink tickets were gone. Next morning we went to Eureka’s Omelet Chalet before heading down to play MACLA in San Jose 6 hours south. Both shows were a big hit. Eureka folks really appreciated us making the big trip and I got a standing ovation in San Jose. I love that. Check out these funny boys on the web Marty’s Site and Thai’s Site

With Thai after pancakes and bacon at the Omelet Chalet (check out the front page of the newspaper)

With Thai after pancakes and bacon at the Omelet Chalet (check out the front page of the newspaper)



Marty and I at MACLA's cupcake and champagne reception with producer Fred Salas.I'm not giving the finger. I'm trying to throw a gang sign,

Marty and I at MACLA's cupcake and champagne reception with producer Fred Salas.I'm not giving the finger. I'm trying to throw a gang sign,

Bad Mami

Dear Readers
I hope I haven’t lost you. I don’t know why I haven’t been blogging for almost an entire month but this must change. I’m at a bagel shop in San Jose CA a few hours before a matinee gig. Two shows today at the groovy Latino Arts center MACLA. It’s been a challenge to sell two shows because unbekownst to me (the spelling of that word is unbeknownst to me and using it twice has weakened my Latina cred) Linda Ronstadt is giving a free concert in the park at 3pm on a sunny day. 3 pm is when my show begins in a dark theater. My second show begins at 7p the same time that Santana and Los Lobos perform at the gigantic HP pavillion. And today is the Mariachi festival in San Jose and I forgot my trumpet.

My point is don’t go into show business.

EDINBURGH FRINGE – DONE THAT

My high tech interview for Grace The Spot by Ally Maxwell

My high tech interview for Grace The Spot by Ally Maxwell

I am winding up my Edinburgh Fringe after 25 shows and dozens of guest sets here and there at secret underground cabarets including the Underbelly where I descended 5 flights of stairs from ground level,performing sometimes to people who don’t understand English are very drunk or just incapable of laughing or who may have been ghosts. I have been able to say just about anything to these audiences- being gay is no big deal here and there are a lot of atheists in Europe. It is impossible to shock an Edinburgh Fringe audience. But having an American accent puts me at a disadvantage. They look down on us even Obama doesn’t help the George Bush effect. This is payback for me since I never liked Benny Hill. I got some press 4stars in the list and Scotsgay, favorable mention in the Groggy Squirrel (everyone’s a critic here even rodents) and I spoke with the infamous blog Grace The Spot you can read that interview here

Before climbing Arthur's Seat

Before climbing Arthur's Seat

I have taken one solid day to be a tourist and wandered around Holyrood Park climbed all the way up to Arthur’s Seat for a 360 degree view of the city on the only warm day in this damp cold month where you could be out without a coat. I have eaten Black Pudding knowing it was blood and oatmeal but only could handle vegetarian haggis.

Making it to THE TOP!

Making it to THE TOP!

After I climbed back down

After I climbed back down

I got to see some great shows and am still blown away by London’s Chickenshed performance of “Crime Of The Century” about knife crime among youth in the UK. Some of the guys in the cast had been coming to my show and I was finally able to check them out yesterday. Really inspiring physical theater. I wish I did that sort of thing. Also got to finally see my twitter friend Ben Lerman’s funny show at Café Renroc. He storms the ukelele and makes me want to be a gay guy. He also has a great flat here with Wi Fi and the two of us created a very dark blog at two in the morning. Got to know a funny latina from NYC a little better. Blanca Dominguez had a good laugh at her show Blurrr. Then there’s my new pal in London Sian Hutchinson who had a smashing success here. She’s quite sassy and I have some incriminating videos of her taken at the Pear Tree. But I can’t find them so here’s a picture of another dazzling performer I dazzled, Micaela Leon from Kabarett Berlin

Scotsgay's Jean Genie, Micaela Leon, amazing chanteuse, and me

Scotsgay's Jean Genie, Micaela Leon, amazing chanteuse, and me

The biggest secret hit here is a show called Cabaret Whore starring Sarah Louise Young at the ‘free fringe.’ This is an offshoot of the EdFringe you don’t pay to get in but you have to pay to get out- whatever you can but some performers are more skilled at getting the big pounds out of you. Like the lady who plays Cabaret Whore as an Edith Piaf rival wielding a knife she says “Performers come to Edinburgh to die” that’s why all the performers love her. If I ever came back here-not to die- I would do the free fringe. But I don’t know if I can do this again for 3 weeks. It’s a money loser and there’s no internet really. You have to go sit places and buy crap you don’t want to drink or eat (with the money you’re not making) to use WiFi and the signal is weak. And there’s no affordable vegetables fresh fruit or TV. But it was a great experience all in all and I’ll be very happy to be back in the uncouth USA.

Ben Lerman and I having some giggles

Ben Lerman and I having some giggles