2014: Shining On The Inside

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• December 29, 2014

I was standing in line at a Barnes & Noble on a gloomy rainy day.  The type of torrential down pour where if it were a Jurassic Park movie, the T-Rex would attack.  I could tell the lady behind me wanted to talk to me.  Strangers love talking to me.  They open up to me about their marital problems, their financial problems.  If I don’t know you, I don’t care about your problems.  Even if I know you, there’s a good chance I  still don’t care about your problems.  So I was doing my best to keep my face in my phone to avoid her gaze, but some people just can’t take a hint.  

“It’s such a miserable day,” the woman said. 

“Yah,” I agreed, not looking up from the Twitter feed that wasn’t interesting.

“But I’m shining on the inside,” the woman exclaimed.

I paused. Then I took a good look at her face. 

Shining on the inside?  Who says that?  That is the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.  Luckily, I was called forth by the cashier so I escaped the loon.  When I got to my car, I burst out laughing.  I was giddy, like a school girl, and a part of me wished I had taken the time to talk to the woman shining on the inside.  Shining on the inside.  That’s rich.  Really, fucking hilarious. 

At the start of the 2014, I was determined to turn my luck around from 2013.  Actually, luck is not the right word.  Luck undermines hard work.  Attitude is the word I should be using.  January of 2014, I was not shining on the inside.  You know that hole that you try to fill with love, food, drink, sex, drugs, or whatever?  That emptiness that consumes you when you’re sad?  If you don’t, then fuck you.  No, I’m kidding.  That’s great for you, you super healthy person, you.  That’s not me.  That’s not most people.  Most people walk around with a gaping hole in their soul and they believe it is their life purpose to fill it.  I was determined to shrink mine.  I alone was responsible for the place I was in, and I had the power to get myself out.  First and foremost, I needed a new job.  I needed to be making enough money to move to the city in order to pursue my dream.  I was convinced this was my ticket to fulfillment.

My college degree and good grades did shit in helping me get a job.  I applied, I interviewed, I failed.  Over and over.  Come February, I was trying not to get discouraged.  But I was literally applying for every job imaginable.  Including waitressing jobs, which I had previously promised myself I’d never do again.   I suck in interviews.  I clam.  I don’t know what to say.  I stutter.  I’m a bad liar.  It’s embarrassing, really.  People think that stand-up’s are so great at talking to people.  Many aren’t.  Especially not me.  Writing is my game.  Not speaking to people.  Small conversations and bragging about my skills give me anxiety.

I don’t believe in fate in the super natural way, but sometimes, things work out so perfectly, I think I should reconsider.  My cousin who lives in the city texted me to let me know she was going to be away for a couple months, and she let me know in case I’d be interested in subletting.  I’d just gone on an interview for a low paying administrative assistant job that I found off of craigslist.  I had little expectations of getting it.  But within a couple hours of my cousins text, I got called from the Craigslist job, and they hired me.

I had a new job, and a place to stay in the city before I found my own place.  My plan was working out nicely.  Just what I wanted.  My best friend, Jimmy, said he wanted to move to Queens as well.  I often refer to Jimmy as my “non-sexual soulmate.”  Because he is hilarious, smart, laid back, and we get along perfectly.  There is no one I’d rather live with.  We looked at a lot of apartments.  We had a super tight budget, and Jimmy would be commuting East to Long Island, while I would be commuting to the city, so finding a place was not easy.  We looked for a month, until we found this sweet little apartment in Forest Hills.

We told the realtor we would take it.  But the next day, Jimmy called me, and he said he didn’t think he’d be able to afford it.  I was angry and disappointed.  Angry because, why couldn’t he have figured this out a month ago before we looked at all these apartments?!  More so, I was scared.  I lived in the same house for 24 years.  I wanted to start the next chapter of my life with my best friend, because he is good at keeping me calm and making me happy.

I didn’t know what to do.  I hadn’t had much time left to stay at my cousin’s place in the city.  People recommended I find a room to rent off of craigslist.  But I’d be miserable doing that.  I don’t trust anyone, and I have OCD, and I’m controlling.  It would be a disaster.  I decided to look at some studios.  See what’s out there.  The first two studios I looked at were not only expensive, but the buildings were run down, and the halls were dirty.  I stood in the studio with the realtor, and I wanted to throw up from suppressing a panic attack that was coming on strong.  I hated these studios.  I had visions of myself OD’ing on drugs in those studios.  They were awful.  The only good thing about them were that they were close to the subway.  The third studio I looked at was in Astoria, kind of far from the subway, and cheaper than the first two.  I loved it immediately.  There was a charm to it.  It has these old fashion light fixtures on the walls, french doors separating the room and the kitchen.  It’s right by the East river, with a stellar view of Manhattan’s skyline, and right by Astoria park.  It was more than I wanted to spend, but I took it.  I figured financial stress was better than living with strangers.

That’s my view when I go for runs. Not bad.  Not bad at all.

I moved April 1st, a month before my 25th birthday.  I accomplished another goal.  I was freaking out beneath the surface, but I like being independent.  I solve my own problems.  The day I moved, my dad rented a comically large moving truck that was literally bigger than the apartment I was moving into.  Jimmy came too.  We had fun, but when they drove away, I felt such a sad emptiness.  I didn’t have cable yet, or wifi, so I just sat in my quiet apartment, and I wanted nothing more than to go to my parents house.  That first night, I just stared at my ceiling.  I’ve never felt more alone in my life than I did that night.  I muscled my way through April, trying to keep myself calm.  Worst case scenerio, I kept telling myself, if things go wrong, I could always move back to Long Island with my parents.  Most people who move to New York do not have that plan to fall back on.  That’s the worst case scenerio, so calm the fuck down because that’s not so bad.  

Around this time, we also learned that my sister was pregnant.  This was a surprise, and not lightly taken.  My family is super religious, and my sister was not yet married.  I really could care less about them being married or not, but there were other factors to consider.  But family stress was turned on high with the expectations of a baby.

May came and I wasn’t completely broke or broken.  I was getting acclimated to Astoria, and really enjoying my apartment.  I was excited for two things: my cousins wedding, and the premier of my pilot, Honest Living.  Honest Living was great for so many reasons.  We filmed it in 2013.  You must understand, that the people who dedicated their time to Honest Living were not paid.  They did it because they liked it.  They thought it was funny, and we had fun doing it.  That meant the world to me.  And when it was done and edited, we got a tremendous amount of great feedback.  Writing sitcoms is my dream.  I’ve written a lot scripts, but I haven’t produced one.  I think I’m a good writer, but getting that validation felt amazing.  May was the first month since 2012 that I did not have a single panic attack.

Haven’t seen Honest Living? Watch it here:http://www.loripalminteri.com/2014-shining-inside/

Life was on the upswing.  And I love summer, so I was hopeful, which is why I did not foresee the down swing that was coming.  By the end of June, I was totally shot.  Working full time, doing comedy every night, I was exhausted.  That hole in me that I started the year off with was growing again.  My job wasn’t bad, but it was killing me.  I was making enough money to pay my bills, but barely.  It was like groundhogs day doing an office nine to five.  I was ruining me mentally.  It had nothing to do with the job itself.  My bosses are good people, and most of my co-workers were cool.  It was me.  For some reason, I’m not capable of a normal lifestyle.  And I missed my family.  I missed my friends.  I had no friends in the city.  Comedy is a notoriously hard game, and it was not treating me kindly.  I was slipping again.  Fast.

The ocean always has been my savior.  There were many days after work, I would drive to the beach.  It would take an hour and a half sitting in traffic, and I’d surf till dark.  But it saved me.  Being at the beach was the only time I felt like me.  There were too many nights I would come home to my apartment, and I was just so tired, I would crawl into the fetal position and hyperventilate.  Maybe I made a mistake?  Maybe I’m not cut out for this lifestyle?  I wanted to run.  I wanted to runaway to South America, and just surf and fish.

If I’m going to hit bottom, I’m going to do it in style.  So, on nights I was not doing comedy (and sometimes after I’d do comedy), I’d go out.  I’d party.  I’d dance. I’d drink to excess.  Followed by hangovers and panic attacks, and trips to the beach to level myself out.  I’m not a party girl.  I’m a workaholic.  I would say, I go out once a month to drink and dance with friends.  But I was going out on the regular over the summer.  I was in rare form.  I just didn’t want to stop.  If I stopped, I would break down.  So if I wasn’t doing comedy, or working, I was out, distracting myself from myself.

Hungover, but I still look good in this shark bikini.

This is it, I thought, this is it for me.  I can’t have another 2013.  I just can’t.  There was a point where I thought I was going to quit stand-up.  What’s the point of pursuing your dream if you’re not enjoying it?  See, that wasn’t true.  The only time I was really happy was when I was on stage.  For roughly ten minutes a day, I was happy, but as soon as I got off stage, I was in misery again.  But I didn’t want to be that comic either.  Because trust me, there are plenty comics like that.

If I’m going down, I’m not going down without swinging.  So I made a bold call.  I was going to join SAG, quit my job, and do background work to make money.  In a way, it was good my day job was so low paying.  It would have been hard to walk away from a good paying job.  This would allow me more time to focus on my writing.  I had no idea if I would make ends meat.  But if I was going to take risks, 25 seems like a good age to do it.  I quit.  But they were looking for a part time assistant, which I then applied for under the jurisdiction that I get to choose which days I come in.  They said yes.  Really?  Yes, really.  Even I was surprised.  I promised them a certain amount of hours, but I can change the days as long as I give them notice.  Fortune favors the ballsy.

Fall came, and I worked part time at the office, and I’ve been getting regular work as an extra.  I was back on the upswing.  Still broke, but not going under.  I managed to get passed at more clubs.  I felt more confident on stage and in life.  I made a friend.  My beautiful nephew was born, and all the family tension disappeared when he arrived.  We all realized the drama was such bullshit.  Now, we have this new life in our world, and he’s absolutely precious.  To me, there’s nothing more terrifying than having a child.  But life is going to throw things at you, and you adapt, and the people who care about you help you.  I love my nephew.  If I’m not holding him, I miss him.

The last months of 2014 were filled with more weddings, a lot of gigs, and I’ve been on my game with writing.  In general, I’ve been ballsier.  And show business is rewarding when you take risks.  I’m actually more busy than I was earlier this year, but I’m just way happier.  Also, I’ve just learned that I will be making my first live stand-up performance on AXS TV on Live At Gotham sometime in early 2015.

There are three things I’ve learned this year.  You should follow your gut.  It’s almost always right.  If you ignore it, you become miserable, and self destruct.  Don’t give up the things you want most just because it’s rough.  It takes sacrifice, and reevaluating your priorities.  How bad do you want it?  Most importantly, your mental health should be a priority in your life.  For so long, I’ve been pushing myself to my breaking point.  I think I’m strong, and great, and can handle all things, and truth is, I can, but not all at once.  I eat right and exercise. I take care of my body.  Why do less with my mind?  I’m sorry that it took so long to figure out, but some people never figure it out.  No one tells you that you might be a little crazy, and your mental health and happiness should be THE priority of your life.  When you’re in a good place, everything else becomes easier.

So, provided that I can make it through the rest of December without a panic attack, that will be four months in a row without a panic attack.    The hole, it’s still there.  I think it always will be.  But there’s a light there, and it’s shining.

From performing for a cancer fundraiser in a theater for almost 500 people.  My biggest audience so far!  After this performance I was high as a kite on the best drug there is: happiness.