Sarah Colonna - Life As I Blow It

Life as I Blow It is a work of nonfiction. Some names and identifying details have been changed. Any resulting resemblance to any persons living or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

A Villard Books Trade Paperback Original

Copyright 2012 by Sarah Colonna
Foreword copyright 2012 by Chelsea Handler

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Villard Books,
an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

V ILLARD B OOKS and V ILLARD & V C IRCLED Design
are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Grateful acknowledgment is made to Todd Shaw aka Too $hort for permission to reprint an excerpt from Dont Fight the Feelin, written by Todd Shaw aka Too $hort. Copyright 1989. All rights reserved.
Reprinted by permission of Todd Shaw aka Too $hort.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Colonna, Sarah.
Life as I blow it: tales of love, life & sex not necessarily in
that order / Sarah Colonna.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-345-52838-4
1. Colonna, Sarah. 2. Women comediansUnited StatesBiography.
3. Television actors and actressesUnited StatesBiography. I. Title.
PN2287.C5745A3 2012
792.7028092dc23 2011046763

[B]

www.ballantinebooks.com

Title page photograph Zan Passante

Cover design: Jen Montgomery at Meat and Potatoes, Inc.
Cover photographs: Zan Passante

v3.1

What I had in mind was spending the night
with a stranger who loves me.

D UDLEY M OORE , Arthur (1981)

S arah Colonna believes that just because she dislodged her ass from Fayetteville, Arkansas, and moved all the way to Los Angeles, she no longer deserves to work at a fast-food chain called Chuckys. She is wrong. I dont know if there is a fast-food chain called Chuckys, but if there is, thats where she deserves to be.

I met Sarah at an improvisation class in the Valley when we were both twenty-one years old. We were magnetically drawn to each other because we both looked like we were in our mid-forties. The class was an embarrassment of riches and a testament that everything happens for a reason. Had I not looked to a sixty-year-old wannabe actor/comic for direction in weaving the name of a city and a profession, yelled out by another classmate, into a hilarious Southwest-level comedy bit, I would never have seen Sarah in her underwear. We have smoked cigarettes while wearing our Invisalign. Well, I was wearing mine, but she needs it.

Shortly after I met Sarah she inherited a cat from a male friend of hers who died. I felt bad that her friend had died, but I couldnt wrap my head around the idea of keeping someone elses cat. I knew she had to be from the South or the Midwest, and at the time both of those areas meshed together in my mind, so it really didnt matter. What mattered is that she kept that cat and it is still fucking alive.

We spent a lot of time together drinking excessively and waiting tables to pay for the former. She drove a smelly white Mustang with doors the size of chaise lounges and I drove a Toyota Echo. Both of those cars survived a lot of fast food, a lot of alcohol spilling, a lot of men, a lot of drive-bys, and a lot of fender benders that were not reported to the LAPD.

She paired that feculent Mustang with a horrifying haircut that I imagined you would find on a secretary from Omaha who worked full-time at a potato plant. I told her repeatedly to let her hair grow out, especially after I saw her license picture once, when we were both proving to each other how old we actually were. She had long blond hair when she was in college at the University of Arkansas and looked ten times better than the girl whose glassy eyes I was barely staring into. We were both drunk on her bed wondering why no one thought we were our actual age. At thirty-five we still have the same problem, so the idea that you grow into it is a complete lie.

We started doing stand-up together somewhere around 1997 and one of us would stop, and then start again, then one of us would stop; then wed start again. The problem is we hung out so much that our stand-up was too much alike and people would get us confused all the time. All we both talked about was drinking and being broken up with by AM/PM mini-mart managers. We both kind of hated it, but knew there was really no other option for either one of us to get anywhere in life in the real world, and we were both too lazy to change our material. Sarah had more of an acting background. I had more of a bad-attitude background. Our biggest priority was fun and Sarah is probably the funniest person I know and I happen to know a lot of funny people. Unfortunately, none of them are the people I work with.

Cut to almost fifteen years and ten boyfriends later. She and I get to work together every day and I have forced her to share an office with one of the loudest Jewish eaters in the history of West Los Angeles. She is a huge part of Chelsea Lately and After Lately and is by far the most popular person in the office. Everyone loves Sarah. She is my favorite and she will be yours, too. If I write any more, this will start to sound like a eulogy. Weve come a long way from using our debit cards at Del Taco. We both only eat organic Mexican now; excluding every other Thursday, when Chuy has us over for brunch.

SLOPPY SARAH:
A FOREWORDby Chelsea Handler

I m sitting alone in my apartment with a big glass of vodka next to me. Ive filled it three times so far, and its only 4 P.M. Whatever, its Sunday.

Im trying to figure out how to start this book. Ive ended it, but I havent started it. Thats how I do a lot of things. I get to the end of a meal much faster than I should, like Ive been given the last hamburger on earth and someone is about to rob me. I walk like Im being chased. I tend to fuck first and ask questions later.

Im thirty-six years old, but I dont feel like it. Some days I feel like Im twenty-one, some days I feel like Im pushing sixty. I work really hard and because of that I believe I should be able to play really hard. Its not easy to find a guy who can handle that. Its also not easy to find a guy who doesnt mind that at one point in my life, I slept with somebody named Pauls friend.

To the naked eye, Im completely responsible. I pay my bills not only on time, but early. I return emails and phone calls in a prompt manner. I wont go near an egg that is one second past its expiration date. Ive always known what I want to do with my life professionally. But if you ask me what I want in my personal life, forget it.

I always wanted to get married, until it looked like someone might want to marry me. I was sure I didnt want kids, then for a couple of months I wanted kids, then a couple of months later I thought kids were horrible. I loved someone so much that I broke up with him because I didnt want to get hurt. Then when he proved he loved me back, I broke up with him again. Im a fucking mess, but so are you. Most of us are. I dont just mean women. Men are a mess, too. Were all in this together.

We all have two very different personalities living inside us and sometimes those people are at war with each other. Its confusing to see what two completely different paths can offer you. My mom showed me that if you lived close to your family, you always had a birthday party. You also always had a big Thanksgiving dinner, a big Christmas, an Easter egg hunt. Maybe those events became annoying, but you always knew you could rely on them. And you always had each other.