June 17th, 2015 · Comments Off
Hi my cuties – here are some quick links to shows I’m doing. As always – twitter is best for updates
June 17 – Washington DC – I adore this science/comedy show on NPR – and it’s ever inventive host Chris Duffy. You’re The Expert
June 18 – NYC – Myself and Jon Ronson with truly great guests are doing this crazy-special show on The Highline. There Will Be Pie
June 19 – Brooklyn – Arthur Meyer, Jo Firestone, Cocoon Central Dance Team…yiiiiiikes I’m spoilt! OH, SUCH A GOOD SHOW, OH
June 23 – NYC – with my greatest nemesis Aparna Nancherla. She stole my heart and I will get it back this night. Hello Giggles UCB
June 25 – NYC – The 2015 Women of Influence. I AM ONE. Not sure if this is a prank but they seem to mean it. I’m doing a keynote so come heckle!
I googled ‘influence quotes’ and this seems as good as any.
April 16th, 2015 · Comments Off
Check it out BOSTON it’s Eugene ‘the founder of Eugenics’ Mirman’s festival – my favourite!! Details here
Including a live taping of Ask the Expert - I did an episode last month and it was so much fun and so much science
Next ‘I’m New Here’ with Jon ‘No shame in my game’ Ronson is on May 10th in Union Hall, Brooklyn
other than that I am trying to finish my book if you please but will be popping up and down for sets around the city – follow me on twitter for best info
Lurve from Murve
March 9th, 2015 · Comments Off
Quick post to tell you what shows I’m doing in the next few weeks in NYC
Monday 3/9 Night Train
Friday 3/13 Women of Letters (this line up blows ma mind)
If you want to hear my sweet Irish lilt talking science you can do so here on ep 7 of the brilliant Star Talk Radio
Next ‘I’m New Here’ in Union Hall with Jon Ronson and guests is April 3rd which is a friday – yikes!
October 6th, 2014 · Comments Off
Monday Oct 6 The Pine Box – Grattan St with darling baby Bob Dylan Joey Pfeifer
Tuesday Oct 7 Union Hall - with Kristen Schaal, Bob Powers, Ophira Eisenberg and writer creator of Fast and Furious 9, Jon Ronson
Wednesday Oct 8 – Uptown Showdown – Zombies vs Vampires – bloody love this debate show
Thursday Oct 9 Bar Splitty - Myrtle Avenue with Larry Murphy (not the killer, a different Larry Murphy)
Saturday Oct 18 – Union Hall with my great girl Josie Long
The B, the R, the O The OK, LYN in the place where I stay
September 6th, 2014 · Comments Off
September 11th – Steamboat – Greenlight Bookstore, Brooklyn I effin love Bob Powers, he is hilarious
September 12th – I want to make you a mix tape, Brooklyn only with bloody Camp Lo for crying out loud!!!
Then the best festival ever – The Eugene Mirman Comedy Festival. Don’t know why I’m not on The Cutiepies Show but am excited about it and also these
September 19th DERRICK BROWN’S COMEDY AND POETRY EXTRAVAGONZO magic Elna Baker is on too!
September 20th – 5 Comics to watch get on Variety’s 10 comics to watch list hahaha
September 25th – Ask Roulette – The Housing Works, Crosby St Little Frenchman Dave Hill is on the bill too – enchanté
June 18th, 2014 · Comments Off
What’s up my lil bubbies? Look what I’m up to! With Jon Ronson – the writer and psychopath.
Sometimes the only thing to do is to move to New York City. So you do it. You take a deep breath, you move here, you take a look around and you breathe out. That exhale might sound like a terrified scream, or a delighted giggle. Who knows? Jon Ronson does! Maeve Higgins does! Two funny people – Jon Ronson (writer, showgirl) and Maeve Higgins (comedian, legend) bring you new writing, great stand up and super fresh interviews with other strangers from strange lands who have made New York their home.
I’m New Here–Can You Show Me Around? will be on the first Tuesday of every month until Maeve or Jon get deported.
HERE IS THE LINK FOR TICKETS BUBBY
April 7th, 2014 · Comments Off
Doing spots at these shows in the coming weeks
tuesday april 8th http://sweetcomedy.com
thursday april 10th http://brokelyn.com/event/myrtle-comedy/2014-04-10/
monday april 14th Night Train with Wyatt Cenac
THEN am going on tour with the great Dave Hill to London, Norway, Holland and Sweden or something – dates below
Tickets are free for all performances of Fancy Meeting You Here, but please send us an email at email@example.com to reserve your space.
FANCY MEETING YOU HERE
April 25 – British Museum, London – 19:00
April 26 – Tate Modern, London – 16:00
April 29 – Moderna Museet, Stockholm – 18:30
May 1 – Norsk Folkemuseum, Bygdøy, Oslo -13:00.
May 4 – Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam – 14:00
April 3rd, 2014 · Comments Off
1. I learned from the best.
I did some background reading and discovered that many of my heroes were obsessed with their thighs. Nelson Mandela apparently made his ‘long walk to freedom’ primarily to tone up his inner thighs. The real reason Gandhi went on hunger strike? I think we all know the answer to that.
2. I use them a lot, pretty much every day.
When I need to get from A (my house where I’ve run out of coconut milk) to B (my local C-town where they sell coconut milk so cheaply you just know the coconuts used were not allowed to roam free) how do you think I do it? I walk. And I’m not ashamed to say I’m your classic tetrapod vertebrate, so without my thighs, I could not walk.
3. Can’t run with them, can’t run without them
My thighs also allow me to run, which I do, even when I don’t want to. I feel furious a lot of the time while I’m running, but mingled with the running rage are flashes of feeling powerful and lucky, particularly if I’m running up steps or short hills or chasing someone. And that last one doesn’t just go for elderly ladies, at times I have chased a 32 year old man and beat him. Beat him so badly his dental records lead the cops to believe he was Shane McGowan . ***LIE ALERT*** I didn’t physically beat him, but I did win the race.
4. They keep my legs together.
Not in a Catholic contraception type way — I mean they literally hold my legs together. The vastus medialis, specifically, stabilises my patella. Patella is a rice dish with seafood and chicken in it, nicely flavoured with tumeric, which originated in Spain and is also known as kneecap. Another muscle that makes up my quads is the rectus femoris, which attaches to the ilium making it a goddamn hip flexor on top of everything else! For jumping, for squatting, my goodness! So handy. How could I hope to dance and do it (sex) real good without my hip flexors? Like a mannequin? Cold and unmoving like Edith in ‘Stoner’ (except for that one weird time when she wanted to get pregnant)? No. Gracias — pero no.
5. Thigh roll: Models.
I used to look at famous women in magazines and compare my thighs to theirs. This is known as ‘being boring’ and also ‘being bonkers’. Now, I look to other sources — a pair of thighs really floating my boat these days belongs to a guy I’ll call Liam. He’s got an amazing range of motion, great flexibility, he can do the happy baby yoga pose in the most beautifully perfect way. Maybe that’s because he is a happy baby! Boom — straight outta left field — I am talking about my nephew! I love him and his perfect, chubby legs so much! I would never say or think cruel things about them, so why would I say or think cruel things about my own legs? (Rhetorical question– please, for the love of Internet, do not answer)
6. Simple mathematics
Thunder Thighs x 2 = Lightening Vagina x 1
Have you ever spent time with a person who thinks a lot about how to make their thighs smaller/thinner/less/better/tinier/with a tunnel in between? They’re usually not very interested in anything else, or else they’re pretending to be while secretly thinking about their thighs the whole time.Science tells us people who are comfortable with their thighs are much better company than those who are not. They are more fun, interesting and interested. ‘Science’ is the nickname I’ve given my opinion. Science also states that if you cease hating your thighs you’ll be happier and more useful to the world.
April 1st, 2014 · Comments Off
Lion cake by Lilly Higgins
It was my birthday a week ago and I’m only just recovering. Not from a hangover or an entire cake shaped like a lion’s head. I didn’t drink any liquor or eat any lion. I had ‘a quiet one’. By ‘quiet one’ I don’t mean the weird child at the back of class who collects plastic bags, no. I mean I got up, had breakfast, went to the bank, frowned at a man for chewing too loudly on the bus, spent the day alone in a new city, pretty content. Or should that be pretty, content? Subjective, none of my business, etc.
Anyway, my mood swung to cautiously toward full-blown happy as the day wore on, wildly so as midnight approached. You see, it was only when my birthday was over that I would find out whether or not my one true birthday wish had been granted.
It had! My wish was granted, granted by the birthday elves. Those little guys materialised in the form of forgetfulness then they penetrated my best friend’s brain and he forgot it was my birthday. Yes he did. Totally forgot. Not a peep out of him all day. I was thrilled. The crux of it is this – there is distance and time between us and last month, I forgot his birthday.
I apologised a million times, called myself all sorts of names, came up with a long list of inexcusably bad excuses. At one stage I believe I blamed climate change. I felt terrible, but now? Not so much. I would not say I feel vindicated, but I do feel relieved. I won the birthday game, or at least got even, which is when both people win. Or in this case when maybe both people lose? I don’t care. Either way, we love each other and it doesn’t matter. The. End.
March 30th, 2014 · Comments Off
It’s 1972 and you’re standing in your kitchen preparing dinner for your husband, when you start to weep uncontrollably. You’re chopping onions for Liver and Onions. Those aren’t your kids’ names, Liver and Onions is actually the name of a really strongly flavoured (gross) meal. You think to yourself ‘Of course I’m crying – it’s the lachrymatory-factor synthase enzyme reacting with the amino acids of the onion converting to sulfenic acids -these darn onions!’ Clever girl, shame you had to give up your job in the university when you got married. But never mind that, can’t you see now, all these years later, that there’s more to it than enzymes and acids?
As you stood there chopping, you probably thought about a kitten at the peak of its cuteness. Five weeks old, sturdy now, well past the blind baby rat stage. Eyes bright blue, wide and doll-like. Not cat-graceful yet, instead scampering about in an adorably mechanical way, with a triangular tail that sticks, impertinently and always, up. As you selected the firmest onion from the net bag, you saw that kitten in a meadow, alert among bluebells, head to the side, watching a Red Admiral flutter by. So far, so exact replica of the poster in my bedroom in 1993, minus the ambivalent ‘Do Your Best’ text.
As you sliced both ends off the onion, and began to peel off the outer layers of skin, you imagined what happened next. The butterfly flits away tinnily humming the refrain ‘On To The Next One’ with reference to flowers. The plucky little adventurer follows, without a glace behind him. Pity, that glance that would have alerted him to the fact that his mother and sister were stretching in the sun, awake now, ready to head home.
Onion rings emerge on the board at your hands, but before you get to dicing, the little kitten’s story unfolds. Urgently and inevitably, you see the little’s guy’s future. Like Keri Russel’s haircut in season two of Felicity – what you see is short and tragic and causes most people to look away. Not you, though. You see it through. You see him gambol on, oblivious to his mother’s worried calls. Further and further he goes, batting at daisies and springing through the long grass. The very grass that obscures him from a panicked mother’s view…
Tears come now. Of course they do – you’ve realised before the kitten has. He slows up, the velvety pad of his front paw injured by a sharp rock. It’s cold now, and the kitten is tired. He mews a little. The sound is carried up and away, unheard by everyone save a single buzzard, wheeling lazily above. The buzzard’s yellow eyes flicker, he circles closer to the ground, listening. The kitten calls and calls, for his Mamma.
That’s why you’re gripping the countertop, bawling your eyes out. To avoid tears while chopping onions, you must simply stop thinking about that lost kitten!