I’ve got to hand it to my Mom: when it comes to meddling in my personal life, nobody does it better. For example, this weekend we’re all going to Las Vegas so Sabrina and her husband Curtis can renew their wedding vows. Of course, Mom’s real purpose for this trip is to surround me with hot guys and ply me with liquor in a town where there’s a quickie wedding chapel every three blocks and just, you know, see what happens. Every celebrity has a cause, and apparently my Mom’s cause is getting me back in a relationship by next week and married off by this summer. Meanwhile, back here in Reality Land, I’m not even ready to start dating again, let alone settle down with anybody. But in my Mom’s English-to-Mom Dictionary “I’m not ready yet,” translates into, “I’m totally ready!” Truth is, Mom wants me to get married again is so I can have another baby. But I’m lucky enough to live in an age where a woman can make that decision for herself whether she’s married or not. Now if I can just get my Mom to understand that.

This weekend I’m doing stand-up, going to a wedding, and trying to find a new boyfriend for Melissa. Actually, that’s not a weekend; it’s my perfect storm of happiness! Well, maybe not perfect…the economy is still bad, cheesecake is still fattening, and Ryan Gosling still hasn’t returned my calls…but it’s pretty good. When my assistant Sabrina and her husband decided to renew their vows I thought, why not do it in Las Vegas where I’m headlining? We can throw Sabrina a bachelorette party…check out single guys…have everybody come see my show…set Melissa up with somebody…have dinner…maybe see Melissa fall in love again…all the usual Vegas stuff! Melissa just can’t know that I’m setting her up, so I have to be discreet. I know– I’ll have Lynne help me! Because let’s face it, if there’s one thing Lynne’s good at its rounding up guys. Lynne just has to understand that these guys are for Melissa, not her, so they can’t have prison records, back hair, or tattoos. Seriously, I just want my baby to find love again, so if Mr. Right comes along and Melissa really likes him, I guess I could overlook just one small tattoo.

I know that we keep discussing that Joan is 78, but I am tempted to insist that she show me her birth certificate. When we were shooting the episode in Las Vegas, we shot with her all day. Our cameras followed her as she planned out Sabrina’s bachelorette party. Then we taped her live comedy show at the Venetian. During the concert, I had our crew go to the party bus that Joan and Melissa had rented for Sabrina’s party. We knew the bus would be dark, so we set up some extra lights inside it before the ladies got there. While they were adding battery-operated lights on the bus, I stayed at the theater and watched as Joan greeted a long line of the audience members who waited after her stand-up show to take her picture, get autographs, etc. Joan was really impressive to watch. Mind you, it was 11:00 at night when her show ended. Joan greeted each person — listened to each story, answered each question and patiently stood smiling as each person attempted to take a picture with her. (You’d be amazed how many people are clueless how to operate their own cameras, especially the ones on their phones). Joan was sincerely thrilled by their delight in her performance. I sometimes think that the audience adulation is the extra energy source that keeps Joan going. Like Audience Viagra, or Comic Ginseng.

It was nearly midnight when Joan finally climbed on the party bus. And you could have sworn she had just woken up from an eight hour sleep by her energy level. She was drinking and dancing on the bus – putting all the younger ladies to shame. All except Melissa, who was surprisingly adept at dancing on the pole on the bus. Where she learned it, I can’t imagine. Joan’s energy continued right into the dance club. Joan loved dancing to the Black Eyed Peas and got a second wind surrounded by 1500 gay men dancing with their arms above their heads. We did not stop shooting until 2:30 in the morning. And Joan was up for more dancing long after our cameraman gave me the eye that he was beat tired. Granted, he does have a 30 pound camera on his shoulder the entire time. It was a fun night for us all – and I had to smile as I watched Joan still dancing as we left the club.