Is This Real Life? Because If It Is… Yikes.

6 Oct

Oops. I got busy.

I don’t know if you remember this, but at some point I mentioned that I believe television characters are real friends of mine. (Southpark characters in ’07, The Office characters in ’08).

Just now I thought real quick of something funny to write about that had happened to me in last million years since I posted anything, and the only things that came to mind, were those things that happened to my friends in New York, Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer. And also that thing where someone from Letterman accidentally called me and asked me to audition for stand up. But that’s another thing. Hold your horses.

Season 5 of Seinfeld is really good. Really really good.

The first episode is about faking orgasms so naturally I loved that one. There is one scene later on in the season where Kramer is a stand in for a soap star, and the voice he makes… I can’t help but crack up each time (5 times and counting) I watch it. Whatever I’m already over trying to tell you funny stories from 1994. TV, 1994.

I can’t say too much, but let’s just say someone I work with is working with Julia Louis-Dreyfus on her new show VEEP and I may or may not have a copy of the first few episodes.

And I haven’t even read them yet.

I know, I know.

But I mostly just can’t bear to read a script if the name “Kate Holly” isn’t listed as an actor on it.

I keep having really close calls with being instantly famous (hahahha not close at all).

The other night I was having sushi by myself, pretending to watch baseball and realizing that some players are really hot and other are really old and wear necklaces? when the man sitting next to me, also alone, started chatting with me.

He used the most obvious lead in, ‘Is that your natural hair color?’ as I stuffed a too-big sushi roll halfway down my throat before I could get a chew in.

Choking down the thread of sushi paper and crunchy shrimp tail, oops, I eventually responded with my usual response.


Long my-life-story short, after blabbing about how I’m hilarious yet not actually being funny at all, he tells me he’s a writer/director for comedies.

Again, I don’t want to get into details, you never know how many writer/directors in Hollywood are reading this, but I’m pretty sure I could get a job out of him, as long as there was raw talent and sex involved. Which I don’t want to do. Not not have sex, but with him.

Then, the worst thing of all happened.

My dreams came true. And then I watched them slip through my hands and die.

I work at an agency. Not for actors.

I answer a call, from a friend, I’m assuming, because they say,

‘Hello, do you have any stand up comics.’

to which I respond,

‘Ha, just one!’

you know, because they’re obviously talking about me, this friend of mine who’s voice I don’t recognize.

‘Just one really funny one?!’

my friend says, in on the joke too.

‘Great, because we’re holding a private audition for stand ups to be featured on Letterman and then be a part of an exclusive workshop for stand ups.’



This is real.

What do I do.

This is it.

My moment.

‘Ohhhh. Hahaha. You’re gonna laugh…. I thought you were a friend of mine…’

You can still save it Kate! Tell her how funny but I’m hilarious and would love to audition!

‘We don’t represent actors… Sorry!”


So now I hate myself.

And then after work I got drunk and then also went running after getting drunk, because, no better time to make your heart race than when your blood is thinned out and you’re automatically short of breath.

Something is going to happen soon. Something….



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