I think my girl crush on Carrie Fisher has sadly come to an end. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been quite a ride. Seeing her somewhere between one and ten times in Wishful Drinking on Broadway was definitely the highlight of last winter in NYC. Each time I walked out of the theatre my cheeks hurt from laughing so hard. And she has definitely been inspirational in getting my writing off the ground. How she is able to turn a tragedy into a comedy is truly a gift. And one day Carrie I will actually think my dad’s murder conviction is hilarious.
I do like to think that we have some similarities which are some but not limited to:
She’s from Los Angeles, I’m from Los Angeles
She owned a parrot, I owned a parrot (RIP Huey del Fuego)
She worked for George Lucas, I worked for George Lucas
She can tap dance, I can tap dance
She’s a writer, I’m (now) a writer!
Carrie definitely recognized me when I became a regular at her show, and to this I have to say, “I swear, it’s not my fault I met someone at the theatre that could get me front row seats!” But I also bank on the fact that she gets ECT’s (electro-convulsive therapy) which wipes the mind of your short-term memory. So Carrie, I have this to say to you, if you keep recognizing me I call bullshit on those ECT’s! Come on!
I noticed she started noticing me when I got her autograph for I can’t remember the Nth time. She looked at me and said “you look familiar” and then called me Anne. I thought we were done. But then I got front row tickets AGAIN for Matt and Thaddeus and she recognized me. Gulp.
THEN I’m given comp tickets by my dear friend Susan to Carrie’s Wishful Drinking show being taped for her HBO documentary at SOPAC in South Orange, New Jersey. I take my lovely friend Michael. I think to myself There’s no way she’ll see me this time. I’m soooo safe. We get to the theatre, it had TWELVE ROWS and guess who got third row center. GULP. Poor Carrie came out on stage and looked right at me, giving me that inquisitive look a dog gives you when they turn their head to the side. Michael and I watch the show, Carrie stares right at me when she refers to her stalkers. The show ends, I smile, clap and wave. I think we’re done. But no.
I decide to take Mom to the Star Wars Celebration last August in Orlando (or Lando as the locals called it) Florida. I got to cover it for MTV.com, yay! There’s no way I’ll run into Carrie I tell myself. They had about 30,000 people there. Carrie signed autographs at the autograph hall and was in a Q+A session, NEITHER of which I signed up for, thank you very much. The main event at Celebration was the Q+A session between George Lucas And Jon Stewart. I had no interest in going. Instead, I had visions of laying poolside, working on my tan, sucking down a salty margarita. But no.
The lovely PR people at Lucasfilm gave me a press pass to cover George’s event, second row center. Ok, I’m sure I’ll enjoy this, I tell myself. I sit and listen to George, taking notes. Towards the end of the event when I’m still dreaming of just a little pool time, Jon Stewart announces some surprises. Mark Hamill comes out on stage, the crowd went wild, screaming and clapping. I think we’re done. But no.
Carrie comes out on stage, walks right in front of me, waving at fans, and suddenly notices me. OH GOD. She gives me a double take and shoots me a look that I hope to never see again. I WAS THERE FOR WORK! What can I do? I stand up, applaud and smile just like the rest of the audience. The next day, she cancels her talk due to “personal reasons.” Hmmmm, coincidence?
I will always adore Carrie Fisher and I will look back fondly on this past year. But it’s time this fan flew the coup and spread her own wings. I feel it’s time to quit Carrie and quite frankly by that look on her face, I think she’s ready to quit me too.
Although never say never…