Rebirth on the East Coast

It’s been over 2 months now since I terminated my 1,001 consecutive nights of comedy. Yes, terminated. Executed and put to rest forever. And thank god, I feel like a whole new person now! I take nights off, I hang out with friends, I go out for drinks, I socialize, and I like to have fun–a concept I’m just discovering at 29 years old. This year I’ve undergone a lot of life changes, mostly with regard to my outlook and what I want in life, partially because of timing, life events, but mostly the streak I did. When I started my 1,000 days I just knew I wanted to be good at what I do, and be successful as well. I wanted to stand out, so that I could know I was doing something different, something special. And upon completing it, and enduring the stress, the insanity, and breakdown of my body, I realized that I really just want to live a normal life again.

This year I seriously thought about quitting comedy and changing careers, and though I’m not going to do that anytime soon, I am figuring out what my next direction is, since stand up is and never has been my terminal dream. And that’s partially why I did the 1,000 days. To get to the next step as fast as possible. And well, I’m here. So now what?

After my 10 day hiatus, which was specifically 10 days because of my next booking, I started a 2 month long college tour across the nation. 13 states: Florida, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Illinois, Texas, North Carolina, Colorado, Ohio, Indiana, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Kentucky, and Missouri…yes, the original 13 colonies. Sprinkled with visits to New York and California in between. I hiked the Appalachians, I biked the Brooklyn bridge, I jogged up the Rocky steps in Philly. I saw people I hadn’t seen in years, I blazed up in Columbus with my long time best friend from Junior High who I hadn’t seen in 10 years, I stayed at my cousin’s hotel in Kansas, partied with my grinding 9-5 friends in NY, sipped wine with my aunt and uncle and played Scrabble with my grandma in Long Island…never a dull or lonely moment. And all of those I’ve met along the way…the random Persian family that took me in in Austin, my new personal trainer that I met in Chicago, the local drug dealers of Ohio, and all of the puppies and cats that jumped on my bed when I’d wake up in someone’s apartment. And the shows…they’ve been aite too.

I’ve spent the most time on the East Coast, where I truly felt the rebirth. A change of pace from the West Coast, the old soul of the nation, where you can really see and feel the change of seasons. Earlier this year, due to stress and a medication I took, I was becoming averse to the sun…overheating and sun poisoning in what was one of the hottest California summers I can remember. I was having hot flashes, headaches, and prickling pain all over my body every time I went out in the sun. For a while it just seemed to get worse and worse, and I could not avoid it. The ice cold breeze of an East Coast fall will freeze that right out of you. I feel like I couldn’t have healed with out it. Plus, to be away from LA, where so many are concerned with appearance, their youth, and the success of their ambition. I needed to get out of that bubble. People on the East Coast seem to just grind and live, grind and live. And that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing. Fly in, rent the car, get to the gig, do my hour and fifteen minutes, sell cds, give out cards, drive back to the city and live it up. Sleep has been a rarity on this trip, but when you are having a good time, sleep seems to matter less, since positive thinking and endorphins do just as much good for the body. I try to maintain my health anywhere I can, jogging around the strange local vicinities that I wake up in, hitting up YMCA’s, and using the 2 machines in a hotel fitness room to try and do something productive.

Anyhow, this post is not to brag, but just to say I’m back. I’ve got some stories to share and they are on the way. I’ll admit that to a degree we never change, and you can always count on me to be the oddball, eccentric, OCD Sammy that you know. But I’m smiling now. The old, work-consumed, hopeless, robotic Sammy is kind of a fuzzy memory. Fuzzy cuz of all this drank!