I am notorious for sticking around way longer than I should. And by “notorious,” I really just mean within myself because there is no way that anybody is paying that close attention to what I am up to. But still, I have developed a reputation within myself for sticking around way too long because I don’t want to deal with the hassle of leaving. What can I say? I’m a Taurus and I like my routines. This little habit first presented itself to me in my dating life, where I quickly realized I am what people refer to as a “serial monogamist.” I stayed in a lot of relationships well past their expiration date because what the hell else was I supposed to do? Have an awkward conversation? No fucking thank you.
This tendency next reared its head in my improv career, where I would agonize over the decision to step down from an improv team like I was a monarch abdicating their throne. Despite the fact that every single time I did this my long, belabored email explaining why I had to step away from the team was met with a resounding, “Cool. Sounds good!” I never learned the lesson. When I finally made it to UCB’s Lloyd Night (aka Junior Varsity Improv), I stuck around for an entire year longer than I needed to because I could never find the right time to quit. I knew after I hadn’t been bumped up to Harold Night (aka Varsity Improv) after my second year that my heart wasn’t in it, and I knew my heart really really wasn’t in it when UCB announced the closure of their Chelsea theater, meaning Harold Night would now take place in their new theater on 45th and 11th, which is approximately seven lightyears from where I ever want to be at 9pm on a Tuesday.* But still, I stuck around. First, I stuck around because my team was already down a player after one month into the new team cycle we found out that one of our teammates was actually a convicted pedophile who was not allowed in the state of New York.** (Yes, that is actually true. It happens in improv more than you’d think.)
Then, we lost another team member because they got bumped up to Harold night and I felt like I’d be ruining everyone else’s experience if I left over something as simple as “burnout” or a “long-simmering resentment for every decision-maker at the theater.” Ultimately, I stuck out the entire year on that last team (which - to be clear - was made up of some very nice people who I genuinely liked very much) and stepped down via email before the next round of teams was announced. Given that improv was still pay-to-play at this time and we were required to spend our own money on practice spaces and coaches, this choice cost me something in the ballpark of $5,200.
Casual reminder that the theater’s owners are literal millionaires. But I digress…
I’m thinking about this now because last week I announced I’m leaving Betches after 8 years at the company. Given everything I’ve told you about how hard it is for me to quit anything, you can probably guess that this wasn’t an easy decision. I’ve known for a while that it was time for me to forge my own path for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that I am burnt out from writing about the news every single day. I had always hoped that the universe would give me an easy excuse to leave, preferably in the form of a TV writing job, but that’s not how it ended up happening. Instead, I’m going off on my own at a time when it is literally not possible for me to get a TV writing job - or any television job - for the foreseeable future. Not exactly ideal, but life be like that sometimes.
This job saw me through many step-and-repeats and hairstyles.
Is there a part of me that is scared shitless to take this leap without a full plan for how I’ll manage financially? Yes. In fact, I’d say that “part” is taking up roughly 75 percent of my brain space right now. (The rest is dedicated to Vanderpump Rules.) So why did I do it? As I agonized over this decision in therapy, I came to the conclusion that I had to leave in order to make room for whatever is next. I kept holding on and hoping that my new job would move seamlessly into my old job’s place, but slowly I started to feel like a “leap and the net will appear” ethos was in order. The universe could tell I was still holding onto my past, so I couldn’t move confidently into my future.
Does the universe actually work that way? I’m not sure. But - for the first time ever - I’m willing to take the risk and find out.
xoxo
besitos,
Alise
**important notes**
*Much has been said about UCB’s decision to move their theater from the middle of Chelsea to one of Jupiter’s moons. I will simply echo the sentiment by saying it was bad.
**This revelation dropped roughly one week after I told everyone in my life that he and I were really “vibing” on stage and that I thought we were going to do some really fun scenes together.
***promos and plugs***
I still need every single person in the world to buy tickets to The Roast of Your Teenage Self at New York Comedy Fest 11/11 at 9:30pm! Please do this. Please tell everyone you know. Help an unemployed comedian put food on their family!!!
I am also bringing back my solo show “THE GIRL WHO LIVED” at FRIGID NYC’s Day’s of the Dead Festival next month. I’m doing it on October 21st at 3pm at Under St. Marks (iconic time to do comedy) and October 25th at Under St. Marks (roughly 45 minutes past my bedtime). They don’t have ticket links up as far as I can tell yet so I haven’t posted about it yet but as soon as they do you all will be the first to know! Come see me at 3pm on a Saturday!!! Bring your grandmother!!!
Not in NYC but excited to see you in whatever I can. Go kick ass.