The instant relief of sobriety didn’t come in fits and starts the first time around. Later, getting off opiates, it would be a grueling up hill climb, but now, during my first sobriety of getting off cocaine and alcohol, it was all down hill. I continued to go to the meetings of my support group for addicts and alcoholics and entered the “pink cloud” phase the members speak of. That time when everything is bright, shiny, and wonderful. Not waking up hung over was wonderful; knowing where my car was was wonderful; knowing what I did the night before . . . wonderful. I met Jane, and Sarah, and Catherine, women who, like me, worked in entertainment—they were mainly young actors—and had quick wits. I carved out a life for myself within the support group. They suggest you get a sponsor. Someone to take you through the program. The first person I picked was one tough cookie—a one-woman Los Angeles Rams in a china shop— She couldn’t have been less like me but she had a whole six months of sobriety which seemed like 20 years to me with my 14 days. You’re supposed to pick a sponsor who has what you want and can share the program with you in a way that enhances your life. Here’s a story she shared with me when explaining her role as a sponsor: “So a guy I know sponsored a guy who went out and drank. So he beat the shit outta him!!!” I wanted a sponsor who guided me not terrified me, so I immediately told her I didn’t think the relationship was working out. My judgement was ne’er too good. I switched sponsors to an elegant, bright, and sophisticated British actor named Jocelyn whom I enjoyed being around, plus I’d seen her movies. I could have a conversations with her, she was incredibly funny. gorgeous, and elegant. She gathered like-minded women around her. She sponsored a group of women I would grow to be especially close with. Especially Diane a young actor with a wry delivery who was very well spoken. We hit it off like old pals immediately. We remain dear friends to this day and “this day” is a long way off from “that day,” the day we met.
“You know” said Jocelyn in her droll British accent, “you should ask your higher power, or the universe, or god if you want to call him that, call him thingy if you like, but ask him. . . or her… or it, if that works for you, to present themselves to you in a way that’s not the least bit subtle and see what happens.” Sure why not? I thought. And I did just that.
One week later I walked into Honey’s office ready for work when I heard Honey call out “Cara, come in here we are having a meeting.” The request hit me strange all kinds of ways. Being the receptionist, I didn’t attend meetings, but I went in. Seated in Honey’s office was Honey, Susan the other agent, and Gretchen a new agent they’d just hired. I could swear Gretchen was glaring at me. “Cara,” said Honey who had a sheet of paper in front of her with a lot of words written on it, “we need to talk.” Apparently the subject of the meeting was me or more specifically, my typos. I was presented with a list of them—hence the sheet of paper. Gretchen continued to stare at me throughout this meeting. “Why’s she so pissed off?” I thought. “She just got here.” Part of me was humiliated but the bigger part didn’t give a shit. Show business really was fucking glamorous. One of my typos had landed an actor a job, something that didn’t happen a lot around Honey’s. Actually it was more than a typo, I’d submitted the wrong actress for the wrong part and she got the job—which I doubt the intended actress would have.
The next evening found Gretchen and me alone and Gretchen called me into her office. Gretchen was a mom of two and married to a character actor. I took a seat and Gretchen said, “What do you really want to do with your life Cara? This can’t be it.” And I understood why she was staring at me during the typo meeting. She’d been my one support in the room. The only one who’d had my back. No one had ever asked me that question before. My parents never had. And “Thingy” gave me the answer. It sprung from my mouth: “I think I’d like to cast regional theater.” A big request because there was one regional theater in Los Angeles: The Mark Taper Forum. Gretchen happened to know the head of casting there, Amy Liberman who just happened to be looking for an assistant Gretchen set up an interview and in three days I had the job. And so began my casting career. . .
I get so involved and lost in each installment. Your story is a book I can’t put down.
I love reading each installment!