Life Is A Roller Coaster

Santa Monica Pier

“Do you want to go to a Movie Party?” asked my Well Connected Comedy Friend.

We had just left an open mic at which my name hadn’t been chosen in the lottery.  The drive to Hollywood now seemed a waste and  I had to ask myself, again, why I’m dedicating so much time and energy to comedy at this point in my life.  Burn out.  Disillusionment. Doubt.   Hello, old friends.

“Will they have free booze?” I asked her.

Silly question.  That’s like asking if Starbuck’s has caffeine.   A Movie Party by definition offers free alcohol, food and plenty of B-list movie actors you can say you saw.

“Of course! It’s on the Santa Monica pier.  All the rides are free.”

An hour later, I sat on the Santa Monica Pier roller coaster with Comedy Friend after drinking a Jack and Coke.   You know it’s been a rough week when alcohol and roller coasters MIXED TOGETHER sounds like a good idea.   I hadn’t been on a roller coaster in years and, as the cars slowly cranked up the tracks, I had a moment of imagining it all ending in one of those freak accidents that don’t make the papers but people talk about for years.

“Yeah, she was trying to revive her comedy career and then that crazy roller coaster fell during a movie party with an open bar,” they would say.

“Wow, that blows. At least the booze was free.”

But that didn’t happen.  Instead, we played games to win trashy stuffed animals, ate stomach churning blue cotton candy, rode stomach churning rides, and gawked at actors who haven’t worked since Bush was in office.  It was awesome.  My Inner Child could not have been happier.  These days, every doubt and question surfaces like a bad breakout.  Hopes and dreams vs. practical realities.  Am I going to regret that I didn’t go on more OkCupid dates or learn InDesign when I’m 80?

Around midnight, while standing in line to eat funnel cake (disgusting fried dough that tastes awesome), I noticed a creepy looking old man surrounded by young women asking him if they could take a picture with him.  Yes, that’s right…Ron Jeremy showed up.  That’s when I knew it was time to go home.

“You can’t quit comedy,” said my friend as she drove me my car.  “It’s just really hard.”

All I ate the next day was a salad.  I’m still detoxing.

Just for today, I can enjoy the roller coaster and blue cotton candy of life.



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