My mom always does this thing where, the closer I get to home, the more she calls. 'Hey, listen, how's your plane? Did you land? Are you landing? Sweetie. Listen. We want to... ' The anxiety amps up exponentially as I get closer, and then I can't get out fast enough.
In L.A., a lot of comics live here, but we don't get to spend that much time together because we've got to drive 45 minutes home, or do another set. So in San Francisco we can hang out, go for dinner - the community aspect of it is really lovely, as well as seeing people's shows that you don't normally get to see a longer version of.
In my stand up, I think I try to be less energetic because I feel embarrassed about how much enthusiasm I have. There's something about acting like I don't care, or if I act like I haven't spent enough time on it, it seems to go better. If I act like I'm really trying to sell it, it doesn't go as well.