on the television and what I think and how I accidentally almost stole my cabbie’s identity today.

Take it in. Breathe. Eat. Sleep. These are phrases–no, commands!–that I am hearing an awful lot of recently. And I am trying; really, I am.

Would you like to know what, exactly, I was ‘taking in’ while I was playing and singing on the tv this morning? Why the heck did I write such a long song with so many words?! Those were my thoughts at the onset of the song. If felt like the song was impossibly long. A veritable marathon of music. Whoever thought ALL THOSE VERSES (two) and ALL THOSE CHORUSES (three) and a WHOLE FLIPPIN BRIDGE (one) was a good idea for just one song, anyway? Really, who wrote this crap?

Seriously. And now you know. Sometimes I feel afraid and sometimes I am not magical in my thinking and sometimes performing on tv feels like oh god oh god oh god oh god–help me not to mess this up! But then I get into the second verse and I start to enjoy it. And my new ukulele is singing along with me. And it didn’t hurt that the Super Cute Vampire From Twilight (does he go by any other name, really?) that was interviewed right before me said, “You sound really great.”

Vampires give the best compliments.

And now I can hear the sound of the rain against the window to my right. It’s falling and falling endlessly; like the universe lives generously; like the rain is a gift that will not run out. Reminding me that I, too, can live generously. That whatever is is that God has put in me will not soon run out, either.

And oh! I took a cab to get to FOX studios this morning. If you know my sense of direction and how it is comparable to the amount of times I’ve performed MC Hammer’s Can’t Touch This (um, zero), then, you’d understand. Probably a good idea to, you know, actually get to the studio, was the thinking that prompted getting a cab.

But I had to pay with a card, because I generally have no cash (so far we’ve learned that a). I generally do not perform Can’t Touch This and b). I generally have no cash. Moving on, class, excellent lesson today!).

So, I had to call the service that takes your card information, effectively allowing one to pay their fare. Anyway, the lady on the phone asked me for the reservation number–I asked the cabbie, and repeated what he told me. Then she asked me the name. “Name?” she said, just like that.

And this was a tough one.

I glanced at the name in front of me on the ID thingy that makes you realize this driver is legit and all that. Knowing I would probably butcher the pronunciation, I decided to just spell the whole darn thing.

“K-W-A-H-I-P-E-S-T-I,” I spoke into the phone.

“First name?” she asked me.

“I-T-L-A-N-A-R-I,” I said, nice and loud.

At which point the cabbie looked back at me and said rather urgently, “Hey! That’s MY name.”

Um, obvi, I thought.

“Sorry–I spelled it, cause I wasn’t sure I’d say it properly,” I explained, thinking he was upset about that.

“No–I mean,” he said, “Why are you giving MY NAME for the credit card?”

And then it dawned on me. And I started cracking up. “Hahahahahahahaha!,” I said. “I am so sorry–I thought that’s what the lady wanted–YOUR name.”

“No. She wants YOUR name!” he clarified.

And then he started laughing, too. And amid our laughter I managed to ask him two things: “Did you think we were related, when you first heard me spell your last name?” And also: “You didn’t want to pay for my cab fare today?”

We both laughed long and hard over that one. Which was a nice moment, actually.

And–funniest one liner I heard from a stranger yesterday, while he was walking off the subway car. He brushed past me and quietly said under his breath, “I tweeted your video.”

Hilarious.

And interesting that that sentence would have made absolutely no sense five years ago.