I’m working toward something.

I started a job today. A job that is not a dream job. But I’m only 10 days into my twenty third year and I’m fully employed and in thirty days I’ll get full benefits so I’m incredibly proud of myself. I work 5 days a week all day and it’s probably going to be difficult. Difficult because I’ve never done anything like it before. I’m answering calls all day every day. I’ve long said that I’m not a phone talker and that is certainly true, but for some reason I feel like I’ll be really good at this and I’ll fit in at the office really well.


So, here’s my fear. I’m afraid of getting too comfortable. I already feel like I know my way generally around the office and the area and I’m very happy to be in a highly regimented and structured environment, but how do I make sure I grow there? How do I make sure I’m taking a step toward a career and not just a step toward slight financial stability?


Here’s the plan: I work five days a week. I do not work seven days a week. I do not work twenty four hours a day. I’ve made it my unofficial resolution this year to make my time count. I got so tired of just watching hours upon hours of a television show and then going to bed and waking up disappointed that I hadn’t accomplished anything the day before. I’m fully aware my tendency is to be lazy and let things happen to me, not make things happen for myself.


Now comes a big proclamation: I’m working toward something. That may not sound like a big proclamation to you, but it is to me. I’ve set my sights on something I want to accomplish and I’m really hoping I’ll learn to use my free time to accomplish that. If I can’t accomplish something that I say I want to do with my whole heart, then I clearly don’t have the drive to do it for a job. So that starts now. I’m working toward a goal and that goal is to have a life.

I’m not kidding. I want to be able to say I have friends and a social life and a hobby and a full time job. I want it all. That might sound weird to you and not specific enough, but it is specific enough to me. I had that once–it was my senior year of college and the more distance I get from my graduation, I realize that I can’t keep looking back on that as the best time of my life. Because if that is the best time of my life, that’s really sad.


So I’m jumping all in and I’m trying to be a whole person. I’m aiming to be the person I really want to hang out with. Parts of me are there already, but most parts have a lot of work to do. Feel free to follow me on this journey if you want, I’m happy to share even though that’s a foreign feeling to me. Maybe it’s time I let some people in, at least that’s what they tell me.



I’m not sure if you heard, but Sunday night was the 40th anniversary celebration of a little show called Saturday Night Live. It was the most viewed NBC show in NBC’s history. That’s insane. Saturday Night Live has become an institution, one that every girl and boy who has any interest in comedy dreams of joining at some time or another.


Let’s just take a step back, though. There’s probably not a single show in television history that is as fiercely criticized. I’m guilty of this, too. I watch pretty religiously every week and I’m always scrutinizing every sketch that makes it on air. I’m not naive enough to think that I could write a better sketch or that I could even fix the sketches that were put up. But I am naive enough to think that some day, maybe I might be.
I don’t remember the first time I watched SNL. Honestly, I can almost guarantee that it wasn’t the actual SNL, but it was probably a “Best Of” DVD, be that Will Ferrell or Chris Farley. Those were the ones I connected with, at least at first. Once I headed into high school and everyone was coming back on Monday mornings and quoting the show and doing impressions, I think I found it more important to connect with my classmates in that way.


I’m not sure if I always liked SNL or if I just thought it was something I should be watching. It wasn’t until college that I realized that it might just be my dream. I specifically remember walking around campus my sophomore year of college with a friend and we were discussing a show called “Fall Follies” that the campus held every year. That show would change my life, but I didn’t know it yet. Follies was basically a Belmont edition of Saturday Night Live. It was topical, satirical sketches about our campus life and I went for the first time to see it my sophomore year. It was that next day when we were walking around talking about the show that a sentence came out of my mouth that I’ll never forget—my friend said something to the effect of “I would love to be a part of that, it seems so fun.” and I responded simply with “Honestly, I’d love to write for it.” Now, a little back story if you somehow stumbled on this blog and know nothing about my life: I’d done this before. I’d said this sentence. I’d done what I said I’d like to do. My senior year of high school, I kind of made myself the writer and director of my high school’s version of Follies, that just coincidentally had a Saturday Night Live theme. So I did that. And I loved it and I hated it in equal measure. We had a group of girls who brainstormed and basically acted as a writer’s room, but in all honesty, I did the heavy lifting of writing that show and it was the hardest thing I’d done up to that point.


When I confided in my friend and said that I might be interested in writing for my college’s version of the show, I think it even surprised me. I’d always been funny, but I’d also not always been a writer. Not in the “sketch show” sense of the word. Yes, I’d written a sketch show in the past, but I wasn’t what you’d call a “sketch writer”, I was just a person who liked funny things and could apparently appreciate certain sketch shows.


That next year, though, I applied to this thing called Fall Follies and got the position for god knows what reason and it changed my life. It took over and became a passion and something that I absolutely needed to do.

Look, I’ve told this story and I probably will tell this story over and over again until I’m 90 years old and realize that other things in life are important, but what it really boils down to is this: Saturday Night Live changed my life. It started as something I would watch to connect with friends and to copy in order to make people laugh. Then it turned into something I would watch every Saturday with a friend with some donuts and a bottle of wine. Then it turned into an inspiration. Then it turned into a real and legitimate thing that I could dream about. Then it turned into something I could work toward.


As I’m sure it does to so many people who love comedy, SNL served a specific and real purpose for me. And, wow, am I glad I grew up in a time when sketch comedy was not only shown, but also appreciated on a national scale. Thanks, Lorne, and let me know when you’re ready for me.




I’m waiting.

I kind of hope no one is reading this. Or, if we’re being 100% honest, of course I want people to be reading this. Who starts a blog if not to get fake compliments from everyone in their life who doesn’t have a blog?

Yeah, the last post I wrote on here is heavy, and the weeks following that, I didn’t really know how to pick up where that left off, but here’s a secret: I knew exactly where to pick up. I knew I could write sketches or monologue jokes or start on a new spec script or start on a new pilot or just do anything I hope one day get paid to do.

I’m keeping it completely honest, today, though. I’m terrified. Scared of everything you could possibly imagine and even scared of things that you can’t imagine. So is everyone else on the entire planet, though, and no one ever says anything. Not that they should. I’m not sure it’s actually beneficial to anyone to admit that you’re scared of anything. All it really does is tell you what you already knew while also giving you the illusion that you’re brave for admitting it.

I’m not brave nor should anyone think I am for saying this. But here is what I am: I am waiting. And that, perhaps more than anything else, scares me the most. I was waiting for 4 years to graduate high school, then I was waiting for 3 1/2 years to graduate college. Then I was waiting for 6 months to say goodbye to everyone that I loved at college. That particular waiting was equal parts wonderful and horrible. Then I was waiting to move to LA. Then I was waiting to find a job. And guess what? I’m not waiting anymore. At least not for the things I thought I was waiting for.

So what am I waiting for? What are we all waiting for? We’re waiting for the ultimate happiness, the ultimate job, the ultimate relationship. But what I’ve learned in my short 23 years of life is that even when we’re not waiting for those things anymore, we’ll probably just go back to waiting for the feeling of waiting. There’s no way to say any part of this that won’t sound like I think I know everything and have it all figured out. Let me just dispel that belief, though. I am fully aware that in the grand scheme of things, I know absolutely nothing, nor do I have anything figured out. That’s fine, though, I’m waiting for that to happen.

Maybe I don’t even have a point in writing this. Maybe the point is just that I’m writing this. And, yes, it’s pretentious and wordy and overly dramatic, but that’s me. And that’s one thing I’m not waiting for anymore. I’m not waiting to know that about myself. I’m just waiting to learn what else is important to know about me. So maybe instead of being scared about the waiting, I should learn to be scared about not waiting for anything. For complacency. So that’s what I’m going to be scared of for now. Maybe you’d like to commiserate with me?