Yes Please (18 page)

The following year I was breast-feeding a six-week-old Abel. I was too tired to think of bits but my hormones were telling me to just jump onstage and grab the award before they announced the winner. Luckily I had enough oxytocin floating around in my body that I didn’t care or notice who won. (Edie Falco.) Jimmy Fallon hosted and crushed. I sat in the front row and heckled like any good friend should. I then dragged my new-mama ass to the after-party with what Tina referred to as my impressive “temporary rack.” I broke my toe on the banquette I was dancing on. That’s right. ON. I acted like the blue-collar party machine I had been raised to be. Jon Hamm and I held Emmys that weren’t ours. We called ourselves losers all night and years later threw a losers party where winners had to donate money to charity to get in.

The next day this mother of two woke up with a swollen foot and hobbled to the airport. Lucky for me and deeply unlucky for him, I ran into my old friend Bradley Cooper, who was on the same flight that morning. I asked him to “escort me to my seat.” I imagined the paparazzi photos the next day lauding Cooper for helping an old and confused lady find her way.

Then came 2011, the best pudding quest yet.

A few weeks before the Emmys I was having dinner with Martha Plimpton, Andy Richter, and his wife, writer Sarah Thyre. Andy and Sarah were some of the first people I met and hung out with when I came to New York in the mid-1990s. They were already married then and had a duplex apartment where they threw great parties that brilliant writers like David Sedaris and David Rakoff attended. They were real adults at a time when I was still a struggling kid and were always generous and kind to me. At dinner, we all discussed a fun bit that could keep my mind off the pudding again. I was reminiscing about the great old bits done by Harvey Korman and Tim Conway. I had loved one particular moment when as soon as their names were called each man just immediately got out of his seat as if he had won. They stood onstage together and when the “winner” was announced they both shook Chevy Chase’s hand and sat back down. It was simple and funny and supportive and stupid—all great things. We decided that this year Martha and I, along with our fellow nominees, should do something similar, but add in a beauty pageant element. I e-mailed my fellow nominees for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Laura Linney, Edie Falco, and Melissa McCarthy, and they were all in, of course. I knew my girl Tina was down to clown, because she herself was breast-feeding at the time, and as history has shown, this is when a bitch is most likely to go OFF.

I gave the producers just the right amount of info so they could shoot our bit properly this time. We had someone buy a crown and flowers, and slowly my craving for pudding vanished again. I desperately wanted to go up onstage first because I thought the person who went up first would get the biggest laugh. But Edie Falco was first alphabetically and it seemed too grabby to ask her to switch. As luck would have it, Edie Falco e-mailed me a few days before and asked me if I would like to go onstage first. I pretended like I was doing her a favor but I was super psyched about it. Rob Lowe and Sofia Vergara read my name and I just got out of my seat and pretended I had won. Standing up there, I could feel the audience’s delight and confusion, followed by pure joy when Melissa and the other women followed suit. Everyone added her own twist. Martha Plimpton screamed like she was Miss Virginia, Laura Linney pretended to wipe lipstick off her teeth, and Tina tried to kiss Jack McBrayer. We all came up onstage and held hands like we were in the final moments of the Miss America pageant. I felt like I might die from happiness. When Melissa won, we all genuinely screamed with joy. Standing onstage being funny with those ladies was so much better than winning. I can only assume. I didn’t win. Melissa did. It doesn’t matter.

In 2012, I felt a little pressure to do something better, which isn’t helpful because there is nothing worse than being the sweaty one in the group leading the charge. Plus I was going to the Emmys for the first time without my husband of ten years and I kind of just wanted to hide. Instead, I sat next to Louis CK. Louie really doesn’t care about the pudding, which is one of the many things I love about him. I also love that he is really honest, gives great advice, and knows how to drive a boat.

To combat my nerves, I picked a dress that made my boobs hang out so people would be too distracted to ask me about my personal life. It was very “eyes down here, guys.” Because of our fun bit the year before, people had started asking me if I had “something planned” and this made me sad and self-conscious. Then Julia Louis-Dreyfus called me. It was two hours before the Emmys and I was already seven hours into my pregame. There is an insane amount of industrial light and magic required to make me look like a pretty lady at an awards show, and I won’t say the process is enjoyable. Julia said something to the effect of “I think one of us will win. If I do, will you do this bit with me? And if you win can I do it with you?” Suddenly I was focused on something active and alive instead of worrying about my boob tape. Julia had the idea that we should hug and “switch speeches” so that the winner read the other woman’s speech by mistake. I was so excited about doing the bit that I was hoping I wouldn’t win. And I didn’t! And I didn’t care. **Ultimate pudding switch**

Hosting the Golden Globes in 2013 with my life partner, Tina, was so fun. Sometimes Tina is like a very talented bungee-jumping expert. All it takes is for Tina to softly say, “We can do this, right?” and I suddenly feel like I can jump off a bridge. Two things also helped me in my preparation for this year. I spent the first day of 2013 touring orphanages in Haiti as the Ambassador of Arts for Worldwide Orphans. Nothing reminds you of what is important more than being face-to-face with children who lack basic love and care. My separation had given me a major case of the fuck-its. Ambivalence can be a powerful tool.

To get ready for our first Golden Globes together, Tina and I spent a lot of time procrastinating and sending texts about how terrible it was going to be. Deep down I wasn’t worried, because Tina is the finest joke soldier you could ever go to war with. She also keenly understands the importance of good lighting. We enlisted the help of our great friend and former
SNL
producer Michael Shoemaker, as well as America’s Sweetheart, Seth Meyers. We treated the whole thing like we were preparing for “Weekend Update,” only without a desk and with an audience of thirty million. On the day of rehearsal we were told that jokes often leak before the live show, so we stood in our fancy jeans and sneakers and delivered our monologue with the setups only, no punch lines. It was thrilling. When I walked out onstage that night, I realized I was actually a little nervous because I do a weird thing when I am nervous where I tilt my head back like I am super confident. This is my attempt to fake it until I make it, or at the very least make it easier for someone to slit my throat.

The jokes went well. The show was fun. Tina and I had the idea to pretend to be fake actors in the audience. I believe we were there representing the smash hit
Dog President
. We also decided to sit in the audience when our own category was announced and cozy up to some grade-A celebrity meat. Of the many things I learned from working at
Saturday Night Live,
one of them is to not overwhelm people with requests. So on the day of the awards I simply asked George Clooney’s people to check and make sure George was okay with my sitting next to him at some point during the broadcast. “Of course!” said George’s people, after not asking him. I knew enough to not ask them to check with George and see if it was okay to sit on his lap. This was a request better saved for the last minute and in person. Or better yet, when the time came, I would just sit on his lap without even asking. As the old saying goes, “Don’t ask for permission to sit on George Clooney’s lap, beg for forgiveness once you do.”

So I sat on George’s lap, and ever the pro, George asked me what kind of bit I was cooking up. I told him when they cut to me in the audience after announcing my nomination for best comedy actress I was going to act totally engrossed in talking to him. I told him I thought it would be funny if we were just flirting and laughing. He understood immediately and handed me a glass of champagne. I told him if I won there was a very good chance I would kiss him hard on the mouth. He responded, “That’s not a bad Sunday.” As the camera cut to me he whispered in my ear, “The thing about making movies is . . .”

There is a reason why Clooney is considered the best. BECAUSE HE IS.

The lessons? Women are mighty. George Clooney loves bits. Doing something together is often more fun than doing it alone. And you don’t always have to win to get the pudding.
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great acceptance speech!

feel free to use!

I always assumed I would be smooth and prepared when I won something, but adrenaline is a crazy bitch. I stumbled through my speech when I won some pudding, and I was too embarrassed to ever watch it. I had written an acceptance speech but forgot all about it. It is below. I think it sums me up pretty well and I can’t wait to use it one day, #godwilling.