Hart - Ive got this round: more tales of debauchery

T HE DAY AFTER my first book, You Deserve a Drink, came out, I was sitting down for lunch surrounded by my team, comprised of my manager, agents, editor, and PR people, the whole ridiculous shebang. As I sipped my midmorning martini, I thought to myself, Well, look at you, Miss Hart. A few years ago, you were begging people to come to your comedy show in this neighborhood, in my head, I was snapped out of my daydream.

So, what are we thinking for the next book? one of the suits asked me. I froze like Id just realized I was sitting at a table of T. rexes. Next one? I thought. This one has been out for twenty-four hours. Then another spoke up: Yes! When can we expect a follow-up?

I gulped down that lemon drop with a plastered-on smile, nodding and looking attentive, while internally, I was losing it. Those were all my stories! I thought. It took me thirty-one years to collect them!I dont have anything left to tell! Besides, most of them happened in my early twenties. Im in my thirties now! I dont have that kind of energy anymore!

But when a huge publishing company named after a flightless bird wants another book, you say YES. When I got back to LA, where I had been living for about a year, I wondered how I was going to pull this off. Well, lots of authors fabricate stories for their books. Maybe I can just make some up? Thats not that bad, right? Of course its bad! Theres nothing I hate more than listening to someone tell a story and knowing that they are exaggerating. Back to the drawing board. Maybe I can just leave the business entirely? Retire at the top of my game! I took a shot deep breath.

This wasnt me. I am not a person who is scared of challenges. My motto has been and always will be fuckin prove it.

Its true. Whenever someone in my life says they want to do something, I say, Well, fuckin prove it. This can be as simple as someone saying they are going to belly flop into a pool or make out with someone at a bar, to bigger things like going back to school or finally writing that movie idea theyve told me the plot of eight hundred times.

I needed to heed my own advice. I needed to fuckin prove it.

So, I did! For the next year and a half, I actively sought out the weirdest and funniest adventures I could find. Luckily, I can make YouTube videos from the road, and I avoid going on auditions at all costs, so getting out of town was actually feasible. Id adventure in a new city, and then my sunglasses-on, hungover self would write up the tale on the plane home, so as to not forget any details. But this book isnt just stories of random boozy adventures and wacky celeb run-ins. See, while I was off acting like a free spirit, indulging in those overpriced plane spirits, I was also dealing with a major turning point in my life: the end of a decade-long relationship.

Initially, I thought Id keep the breakup out of this book. Hell, what better way to deal with an emotional earthquake than pretending its not happening and getting the hell out of town, right? Turns out, you cant leave those feelings. They are your constant carry-on.

As I was writing, I realized I couldnt just tell you about my wild night in Paris and leave out the fact that I was bawling like an idiot! Or pretend like my summer of mayhem wasnt in part due to being single and also living alone for the first time in my adult life! I went into the writing process for this book expecting it to be an easy follow-up. Another collection of random debauchery, except this time in my early thirties. But, turns out, when I sat at that table sipping that tini in Rockefeller Center, I wasnt just about to start a new writing project. I was about to start a new chapter in my life, and thats what Ive documented here. Between the travel and the life-changing circumstances, this book is my Eat, Pray, Love, except it would be more accurately titled Drink, Drink, Drink.

This book is the closest thing Ive had to a diary since the Hello Kitty one I kept in the fifth grade, which I used to write thorough reviews of spin the bottle, and its by and large the most vulnerable Ive ever been in public. Which at first made me hesitant. But its like they always say: you cant spell vulnerable without all rub even. By they, I mean me looking at an online anagram generator, but weirdly enough, that phrase actually ties the book together nicely. I started off solid like a rock, threw myself into a tumbler of mayhem, and came out feeling polished and smooth, ready to skip along any tough waters that come my way. Wow, did I just invent a beautiful metaphor?

SOMEONE. CALL. OPRAH.

I really do hope you enjoy this collection. I hope it makes you laugh on a beach somewhere, or say Oh Lawd-a-mercy on a crowded subway train, or allows you to feel a little bit better about your own transitions in life. And if it doesnt, have no fear: I always have a drinking game incorporated to help give you a nice buzz during the process. So drink every time I...

1. mention a canceled TV show
2. name a snack item you could buy at 7-Eleven
3. reference a chain restaurant
4. use a slang term for a reproductive organ

And also, like the first book, I am instituting a safe word for anyone related to me reading this. Trust me, its for your own good if you want to be able to look me in the eyes again at a future family function. In the first book, the safe word was rutabaga, so why dont we stick to the root-vegetable theme and make this books safe word KOHLRABI!? Why? Because I have never used that word in a conversation, and also cause it kind of looks like cool rabbi. Like a rabbi that would bust out a rap at a bris.