I have an air conditioner

I actually have a lot of things that I didn't used to have. I have a car. I have a mac. A cell phone. A printer. I have pork, chicken AND fish in my freezer. I even have cable.

When I first moved to NYC back in 2001, I didn't have a lot of things, but the thing I didn't have more than ANYTHING was a/c (if you get that joke, then you and I can hang out). I literally didn't sleep for three summers. I went to visit a friend in LA during that time and had one of the best nights sleep I've ever had in my entire life. My roommate and I went to go see "Eight Legged Freaks" in the theater just to escape the heat. The summer when I got a/c I spent an entire day reading the fifth Harry Potter book in unbelievable coolness. I never imagined that I would be so happy.

Sometimes I worry that I won't achieve my ultimate life goal of not having to be a waiter (kidding. Doing comedy is my dream of course). Sometimes I worry that I'm not making the sort of life progress that I want.

Then I think about that first summer in the city. Working at Pizzeria Unos. Not being able to afford anything to eat save for a side of pasta ($2.15. We got a 50% discount, so I only had to pay $1.07). I used to be jealous of people who had the sort of expendable income where they could just buy a cookie if they wanted one. My room was so small I could barely fit a twin mattress in there.

I am not exactly where I want to be yet, but compared to where I was...this shit is the hot shit.

Today is officially hangout day!

I was tooling around the internet yesterday when I came across a review for a show I did out of town recently. It was a local paper, but the review was incredibly glowing, and singled me out as being particularly noteworthy. I got a few email about it from clubs in the city and from a booking agent that I know, who never seemed interested in giving me work before.

This put me in such a good mood that I was actually dumbstruck, and could do little else besides glow. I immediately got on the phone and arranged to spend the rest of the day not working.

"Hey, let's get lunch. I refuse to be productive!"
"Fuck my dry cleaning! You and me are seeing a movie in the middle of the afternoon!"
"Out of printer ink? Too bad, fucker! I've got dinner plans!"

I just returned from my r&r, and feel a little silly. Was that really necessary? Sure, it was fun, but I can't help but think I didn't deserve it. I mean, the reward was the review, but I decided to reward myself for getting the reward. A tad indulgent, no?

Back to work tomorrow. Unless I get some sort of comedy trophy.

the "spaniard incident" (3/22/07)

the following is a repost from my birthday this past year. it gets special notice for being one of the coolest things to have ever happened to me.

well, the big birthday weekend has come and gone. my schedule has opened up a bit. the sun is shining sporatically (GLOBAL WARMING!) and i coasting until i find out how many hundreds of thousands of dollars i owe in taxes (it will seriously be that much).
i lost my voice for most of my birthday weekend, which is retarded. i was so super excited about all the shows and the partying, and by the second day i could barely speak at all.
this is because of what happened on thursday, which, truth be told, was so much fun that it was almost worth losing my voice for my birthday.
i was flyering for our last "this just in.../the third men" show in washington square park. it was pretty out, so lots of people were milling about, but only two troupe members were there to help me out (thanks shawn and sean!). also, i had a conical megaphone, like the kind people in the 40's used in pep rallies. my plan was just to make a big spectacle of reading the newspaper to people, and have the two seans go up to them and give them the flyer.
i started reading the paper into the megaphone ontop of a curved post (very hard to stand on) just in front of the arch, when i noticed one of the sean's laughing at something going on behind me. some kids were milling about and laughing at me, so sean and i started to engage them in conversation, me constantly relaying the conversation to the general public with the megaphone.
they were a group of seven teenagers, aged 14-17, from spain, who spoke very little english. they were delighted by my shinanigans, and remained rapt in attention during my spectacle. after a bit, me interacting with them became the spectacle, as i, on a post, surrounded by teenagers, shouted through a megaphone as they laughed at the few words they understood.
i don't like to brag, but shit i was coming up with was pretty funny. i tried to get them to rob a bank for me. i accused them of coming to america to make global warming worse. i told them i'd adopt them, be their cool uncle, and take them to R rated movies.
but my personal favorite was when they told me that most of them were only 14 years old. i demanded to know where their chaperone was, why spain as a country was so reckless with their children that they'd just send them to another country, not teach them the language, and not provide an adult to look after them. then i shouted out to the entire park, "Attention Pedophiles! There are 14 year olds who don't speak english here without an adult chaperone. Do not come here and rape them!"
just when i thought things couldn't get any more surreal, the rest of their group showed up. now i was surrounded by thirty 14 year olds, all shouting and cheering at me in spanish, and me, warning america through my megaphone that spaniards were multiplying like gremlins. "DO NOT FEED THEM AFTER MIDNIGHT!" for a good ten minutes i spewed as much nonsense as i could while throngs of teenagers laughed and clapped. it was an incredible rush, feeding perfectly into my desire for atttention so typical in middle children like myself.
suddenly they all started waving goodbye and moving through the archway. apparently their chaperone had shown up and was taking them away to whatever educational experience they were there for. we exchanged a few heartfelt shouts, and then they were gone. i got off the post, throat destroyed with screaming, and gave a few flyers away to people who were curious about what happened. i usually like flyering, but now i just wanted to rest my voice and reflect on what had happened.
as one of the sean's and i were leaving the park, we came upon two old ladies in all black, drawing. we gave them flyers and started to talk to them about the show, when one of them showed me what she'd been drawing.
it was me. with the megaphone. talking to the spaniards. it was beautiful, like suddenly having something tangible left over from a dream you wanted to tell people about.
"i'd love to get a copy when you're finished with it."
"tell you what," she said, as she started scribbling "happy birthday" across the top. "why don't you keep it?"
it was the only birthday present i got, but it more than made up for the lack of quantity.

i may have just googled myself...

and i may have also found something that makes me especially proud to be me.

i discovered this.

it wins my award for "best thing to find when googling 'jarret berenstein'"

in case you were wondering, it is totally true.

The New York Times called me "handsome."

i've recieved a lot of really nice compliments in my life. hell, we all have. that doesn't necessarily make me special.

something that WOULD make me special, however, would be if i got a really impressive compliment from a very reputable source. for example, if someone at, say, THE NEW YORK TIMES, called me, i don't know, HANDSOME, then that would be pretty unique.

well, NEWS FLASH mother fuckers! that's exactly what has happened! HOLY SHIT!

THIS JUST IN! "JARRET BERENSTEIN HANDSOME" SAYS JENNIFER BLEYER OF THE NEW YORK TIMES!

don't believe me, here are two links to the article!

NOTE: if you subscribe to the nytimes and therefore have access to nytimes select, then click here for the full article.
if not, you can see a copy of the article by clicking here)

it is a review of a production i was just a part of in williamsburg called "Little Building" about a building who falls in love with a man. i play a host of characters, not the least HANDSOME of which being the clock tower in the opening number.

i play the clock tower. that's, the SAME clock tower referred to in the article as "handsome." i think it's pretty clear what's going on here. someone on the new york times has a little crush. well, Ms Bleyer, please feel free to shoot me an email. if you're hot. if not...um...i like dudes.