McSweeney’s List (9 January, 2025)
Concepts come before the words for them are invented. Whether it's a new idea or a naturally occurring pattern freshly noticed, at first we find ourselves in the midst of klutzy explanations, wordy choruses of “it's kind of like…you know?”, with varying levels of hand gestures. Fractals existed before the word fractals. People were pointedly ignoring each other long before we called it ghosting. (I've been ghosted by landline, by the way. Left on read seems like closure by comparison.) This week I want to introduce you to a concept you probably already know, but don't have a name for. It's called sad pizza.
I can't take credit for coming up with this, but I would like to spread it, so let's dive in. I spend a lot of time watching comedy podcasts; travelling comedians of different professional levels getting together and talking shit. Sometimes they get into inside baseball, and as a comedy nerd, I'm here for it. Over the years I've heard countless stories about the isolating nature of waking up in a different city every night, in another hotel room, still days away from family and friends. Some comedians bring game consoles, some go see sights, eat at the best local spots, but it's a work trip, unavoidable in nature. A lot of them talk about how at the end of the night, after the theatre full of people cheered their name, after the autographs and praise, they end up alone in their hotel rooms, quietly eating whatever trash they can get delivered at that hour in that town.
On one particular podcast, the major details of which completely escape me (which one? Who was guesting? Who said this thing that stuck with me?), they used the term sad pizza. Let's say for the sake of argument that it was Mark Normand talking about Bill Burr (though maybe it was Burr talking about someone else, but the facts aren't the point here). After a show at a festival, Mark saw Burr walking back to his hotel. He wanted to stop and say hi, but his colleague was focused; serious-faced and alone, so he skipped it. He was carrying a sad pizza, he recalled, and it made perfect sense. This was the pizza he was carrying back to eat in the silence while the crowd was still ringing in his ears. He would turn off his social, and just exist. (In fact, his social was already off, the other comic saw that, that's why he didn't say hi.)
I've had countless sad pizzas; we all have. It doesn't have to be pizza, of course, but when you get home at the end of the night, acknowledge that the party is over, start scrolling aimlessly, that's what that is. As much as I hit an introvert wall and long to escape the sustained overstimulation, I find it hard to cope with the crash. Whether I get home hoarse and sweating from a concert, buzzing from being in the spotlight, or jazzed up from a party, I don't unwind well. I get out of my sparkly clothes, into something comfy, and stare at videos while I wait for my frozen pizza to become food. The idea of going straight to sleep is beyond me. Despite how lethargic I must look -- playing phone games, barely watching whatever's on, PJs smeared with pizza grease while I contemplate the heroic task of removing my makeup -- my insides are a different scene. My Vibes are all looking for after parties, shoes in hand, ready to keep dancing even as my Social sets an out of office reply that she'll be back in 2 days. My Vibes know that the night is not truly over until we close our eyes, so I hang out in that liminal space on borrowed time until I can't keep my eyes open.
If sad pizza was a season, this would be it. The decorations are still up because we all need a little glow, but the party is most definitely over. We’ve eaten it all, seen all the people in the world, and as a result, we’re all sick and cursing them for our germs. Everything we said we'd circle back to in the new year has come to term, and for fuck’s sake, we've barely just sat down after the shin dig. Our makeup’s still on, though hardly what it once was. Our stockings are ripped, our sequins are popping off, and the music has stopped. We have crashed into the post-holiday part of winter with our motivation spent, our accounts overdrawn, and the cold truly settling in. Le sigh, we moan together as we put on 2 pairs of pants and start counting down to spring. Woe is all of us, as we return to the mundanities of our lives with months of the same-same ahead of us.
But I think there's hope in our sad pizza. See, I knew it didn't have to be pizza because I've done this dance with late night poke bowls, noodles, burgers, etc. What I'm learning now, is that it also doesn't have to be sad. When I'm honest with myself and anticipate the crash, I can soften the landing. The party always ends, and winter always freezes over, and while the two are unrelated, they coincide in January. The only choice we have is how we deal with it. What if instead of sitting in our crumpled clothes we slipped into our comfiest? What if when we got home from the party we sprayed ourselves with our favorite perfume and did a face mask? What if instead of staring mindlessly, we set up our own private watch party so cool we’ll be eager to get home? These aren't rhetorical questions; I'm genuinely asking, because so far this is a concept I'm still working on. (Happy cake? Content pie? Unwind salad?)
While I have begun to prepare myself for the post-social nosedive, I have yet to really embrace the above suggestions. I know I should, much like I know that before the leaves turned I made lists and plans about how to be comfortable and content by January.
There is optimism though, in the steps I have yet to take, because it means I'm not yet out of options. From here on I vow to relish the lazy days instead of lamenting that I'm not on the go in the sun. I will appreciate the glitter of the snow instead of wishing my toes were in the grass. Because to everything, there is a season (turn, turn, turn), and this is ours.
Blue Monday this year falls on January 20. It's the most “depressing” day of the year, by some metric or another. I'm conscious that I could've held onto this article for another week, but sad pizza doesn't ask questions, it just arrives. May we each savor some nourishing noodles before the month is out.
NO CODE WORD NEEDED
There are a few ways to run a secret show. The first way would have me uh, not tell you about it, and you'd have to be in the know to catch an invite. Thankfully, this is not that. This is the kind of secret show where photos are prohibited, and your phone's are on lockdown, and the comedians are free to say some shit. Who's performing? Dunno; that's another part of the secret.
WHAT: Secret Show
WHERE: 3rd Floor Comedy Club, 2015 Crescent St., Montreal, H3G 2C1
WHEN: Friday, January 10 @ 11 PM
METRO: Lucien l'Allier (Orange), Guy-Concordia (Green)
DETAILS: Facebook
INNER WORK
Discover your attachment style for healthier relationships in 2025, and unlock the secrets of heartfelt connections.
This free, online, interactive session delves into the fascinating world of attachment styles, and their profound impact on our relationships. Whether you're navigating the complexities of romance, friendships, or family ties, understanding your attachment style can be the key to fostering deeper, more meaningful connections.
Explore the four primary attachment styles (secure, anxious, avoidant, and disorganized), uncover their origins, and learn how they shape our interactions with others. Gain the knowledge to transform the way you relate to yourself and those around you through self-assessment tools, engaging discussions, and insightful strategies,
Don't miss this opportunity to learn how to cultivate healthier dynamics in your relationships, and embark on a path to emotional resilience and growth. Secure your spot today, and take the first step toward building the relationships you've always dreamed of!
FUNNIES & FEASTING
All you can eat Caribbean cuisine AND comedy?! That's a win-win you don't get everyday! Come hungry, and feast on mouthwatering dishes like fried snapper, rice’n’peas, jerk chicken, and more, all prepared fresh daily with the highest quality ingredients.
The stellar lineup of comedians features: Goofy Welldone, Claudio Capri, Tina Cruz, Aseem Halbe, Djeff Martin, and Joshua Clarke.
Don’t miss this!
WHAT: All You Can Eat and Live Stand-Up Comedy
WHERE: Caribbean Food Factory, 5311 de Maisonneuve Blvd. W., Montreal, H4A 1Z5
WHEN: Sunday, January 12 @ 6 PM
METRO: Vendome (Orange)
DETAILS: Facebook
ALWAYS TIME FOR LAUGHTER
Get ready to laugh your socks off at Comedy on Mackay #6! It's a rip-roaring night of hilarious stand-up comedy in the heart of Montreal. This talented lineup of comedians will have you rolling in the aisles with their witty jokes, and sharp humour. Featuring Lucy Gervais, Darren Henwood, Vance Michel, Marianne Mandrusiak, and Quinn Lague
Don't miss out on this evening of non-stop laughter at NsurMackay. Grab your friends and come on down for a night you won't forget!
WHAT: Comedy on Mackay
WHERE: NsurMackay, 1244 Mackay St., Montreal, H3G 2H4
WHEN: Tuesday, January 14 @ 8 PM
METRO: Lucien-L'Allier (Orange), Guy-Concordia (Green);
DETAILS: Facebook
FEEL THE WORDS
(This one isn’t THIS week, but the early bird pricing ends in that time frame, so I wanted to let y’all know.)
Writing happens in the body. The more you engage your senses, the stronger your language. Whatever emotions you spill onto the page are deeply rooted at the cellular level.
Get out of your head and into your body so you can write with vital presence! Doing so has the potential to be a deeply empowering and healing act. If you've never done breathwork or meditated before, it really doesn't matter. If you're not a writer, that's ok too. This workshop is for writers wanting to enhance or expand their practice, non-writers interested in exploring their potential, and anyone who feels called to investigate the relationship between body and language.
The practice will interweave:
Discussion
Kundalini breathwork
Stretches / movements
Creative writing prompts/exercises
A Kundalini meditation
An optional sharing circle
Chai & a sweet snack
What to bring: your journal, a pen, comfy clothes, and an open mind. (Pens & paper will be available, as will yoga mats, blocks, and cushions as needed.
About the facilitator:
Maya Khamala is a lifelong writer of many stripes. From poetry to grassroots journalism to creative nonfiction, word is her bond. She has also collaborated with visual artists at a loss for words, and has worked as a freelance copywriter and editor for close to a decade. She has a shiny little MA in Creative Writing to list among her credentials, and is an emerging novelist to boot. Maya has an extensive background in feminist, anti-racist and climate justice movements—work that has deeply informed the way she wields words. Aside from being a writer, she is also a Kundalini Yoga teacher offering regular classes in Montreal. She got into Kundalini as a way of healing from trauma and its many lifelong manifestations in her body, as well as to counteract being a writer who sometimes forgets to step away from the keyboard and just breathe.
Grab your ticket early! $50 early bird rate till Jan 15th, then $75 regular price.
WHAT: Embodied Writing with Maya Khamala (NDG Edition)
WHERE: Espace Be Bien-Être, 2240 Beaconsfield Ave., Montreal, H4A 2G8
WHEN: Saturday, February 1 @ 2 PM - 5 PM
METRO: Vendôme (Orange)
TICKETS: Linktr.ee
McSweeney’s List drops every Wednesday with the best events, workshops, and more, each week in Montreal!
