Has Anyone Seen My Pants? (21 page)

Sleeping Single Again

I
t’s one o’clock in the morning and I’m writing this from my bed. I’m under a pile of covers with a pillow propping up my laptop. I have the air-conditioning cranked up because it’s currently summer in Southern California. I know that most of the country thinks it’s always summer here, which it kind of is, but this is
actual
summer, okay?

What’s weird is that when I started my first book, I was in a relationship. By the time I finished it, I was single. I started writing
this
book while I was single and now here I am writing the end of it and I’m in a relationship. There are probably only two people more surprised than me that I found myself finishing this book in a relationship:

1. My editor, as it’s definitely not the ending I submitted when I sent out the book proposal months ago.

2. My friend Liz, a.k.a. “Two Rings,” who marvels at the fact that my Instagram account went from pictures of wacky signs I see when traveling the country and pictures of me holding my terminally ill cat to pictures of me and my boyfriend, always smiling.

But I kind of like that about this process. While I’m putting my life down on paper, things are changing. That’s life, after all, so if I’m going to write about my life I suppose I should be ready for change.

As usual, I’m pretty certain I just heard someone walking around upstairs, but even though I’m finally in an adult relationship, I still have to fend off imaginary intruders on my own, at least for now.

I’m still a big fan of alone time, a big fan of silence, and a big fan of getting to do whatever I want. That being said, I’m not really concerned anymore about someone putting my expensive underwear in the dryer. It’s just underwear, after all, and I do have several pairs of them. I mean, I say that now, but I’m sure the first time Jon damages my expensive underwear by throwing them in the dryer, I’m going to have the urge to react poorly. What I hope for myself (and for him) is that I can suppress that urge and not have an irrational argument about how my favorite underwear can now only comfortably fit my dead cat. I believe I’m going to be able to suppress it, as long as I don’t have PMS. In that case it won’t be my fault and he should have fucking remembered
not to dry the lacy underwear! It isn’t that difficult of a request!

The good thing is, we’ve had that conversation. Not about underwear in particular, but about the fact that we both have lived alone for quite a while now and we both know it’s not going to be easy to learn to share our space with someone again. But for me, the difference between before I met him and now is that I truly look forward to the day I can take on that challenge.

Both of our jobs are going to keep us from being able to live together, or even in the same state, for at least a couple more years, so maybe it’s easy for me to say that I’m looking forward to it because there’s a pretty solid amount of time before it becomes a reality. But I think what’s happening here is that after thirty-nine years, I finally know what I want . . . and what I deserve. Plus, lying next to a big strong football player is going to make those nights when I think I hear footsteps in my house much easier to sleep through, which means I’ll be more well rested, which means I’ll be much easier to live with. I think.

I still worry more than I should about my future, maybe even more so now because I have someone I plan to share it with. At one point in my life I thought I had found perfect balance, then I fell off the balance beam. Now I’m more realistic: I don’t think I’ve necessarily found
perfect
balance, but I feel more balanced, and that’s progress. I’m not positive that total balance and calm is achievable unless you’re a monk or Maya Angelou, may she rest in peace, but I am positive that progress is progress and as long as I’m growing and learning, everything is going to be fine. Or even, dare I say . . . amazing.

There’s always a possibility, too, that by the time you read this book, my relationship will have somehow crumbled or ended in a fight over ruined expensive underwear. I’ve learned that things don’t always turn out how you expect them to. But I’ve also learned that this isn’t always a negative—sometimes they turn out even better than expected.

What I know for certain is that I found someone who loves me for me, and I love him for him, which ultimately is what we all deserve. Also, I’m really thankful for Twitter.

Gotta go, I just heard something upstairs.

Acknowledgments

I
want to thank and acknowledge the following people:

My parents, Eric and Cheryl Henderson and Jim and Shirley Colonna, for always believing in and supporting me, even when they probably just wish I’d be a little less honest.

Jennifer Colonna-Quinton, for being such a good, supportive big sister.

My nephew, Nicholas. At sixteen years old, you’re already the kind of man most only aspire to be.

My book agent, Robert Guinsler. You’re the best.

Jen Bergstrom, Kate Dresser, and Tricia Boczkowski at Gallery Books for making this happen.

Abbey MacDonald and Lindsay Howard . . . you know why.

Everyone who represents me at APA and New Wave, who fight for my career on a daily basis. I appreciate the time you put into this more than you know.

Jeff Cohen.

Nelly Gonzalez for making me feel pretty even when I was pantsless.

Lisa Perkins and Alex Martinetti.

Blake Little and John Vairo for figuring out how to translate what was in my brain into a book cover.

All of my friends—thank you. I love you and you make my life better. Also, thank you for letting me talk about you.

All of the Morgans and Colonnas, and Leanne McClintock and Victoria Ishmael, for being the family I can always count on.

And Jonathan Ryan, for finally showing me what it’s like to be loved for who you are.

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Copyright © 2015 by Sarah Colonna

Photos courtesy of Sarah Tilley and Jeff Wild.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Gallery Books trade paperback edition March 2015

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Interior design by Jaime Putorti

Cover design by John Vairo Jr.

Cover photography by Blake Little

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Colonna, Sarah, 1974–
Has anyone seen my pants? / Sarah Colonna.
pages cm
1. Colonna, Sarah, 1974– 2. Women comedians—United States—Biography.

3. Television actors and actresses—United States—Biography. 4. Television comedy writers—United States—Biography. I. Title.
PN2287.C5745A3 2015
818'.602—dc23
2014039354

ISBN 978-1-4767-7192-2

ISBN 978-1-4767-7193-9 (ebook)

Contents

Epigraph

Prologue

Recycle, Reduce, Reuse

Table for ¿Uno?

What Ails Me?

Called Up to the Majors

Weekend Get-Away from Me

It Ain’t Over till the Cat Lady Sings

The No-Sunshine State

Maui-Owie

Blind-Drunk Date

Parental Misguidance

Two Hundred Cigarettes

Reverse Catfishing

New Year’s . . . in Iowa

Table for Dos

Sleeping Single Again

Acknowledgments

About the Author