Yes Please

by Amy Poehler

How do we drag ourselves through the muck when our brain is telling us youaredumbandyouwillneverfinishandnoonecaresanditistimeyoustop? Well, the first thing we do is take our brain out and put it in a drawer. Stick it somewhere and let it tantrum until it wears itself out. You may still hear the brain and all the shitty things it is saying to you, but it will be muffled, and just the fact that it is not in your head anymore will make things seem clearer. And then you just do it.

people are rude and nice manners are the secret keys to the universe.

Annie taught me that orphanages were a blast and being rich is the only thing that matters. Grease taught me being in a gang is nonstop fun and you need to dress sexier to have any chance of keeping a guy interested.

My high school musical did not offer a shirtless Zac Efron, but it did provide me with many lessons.

The accent is a really hard thing for me. It reminds me of my family and my childhood, but it’s one of the worst-sounding accents out there. I love Boston, but we sound like idiots. Our mouths never close and we talk like big, lazy babies. I might get shit for this but as a true Bostonian all I will say to that is FUCK YOU, AHHSOLE, IF YOU GOT A PRAWBLEM WIT ME THEN LET’S MEET BY THE RIVAH!

I usually find any discussion about my own looks to be incredibly boring. I can only imagine what a yawn fest it is for you. But I cannot, in good faith, pretend I have fallen in love with how I look. The demon still visits me often.

Maybe a day even comes when you are getting dressed for a fancy event and it whispers, “You aren’t pretty,” and you go, “I know, I know, now let me find my earrings.”

I asked the indefatigable Betty White what she was going to do when she got home. She told me she was going to fix herself a “vodka on the rocks and eat a cold hot dog.”

I have a friend who had two babies at home! In bed! Her name is Maya Rudolph! She is a goddamn baby champion and she pushed her cuties out Little House on the Prairie style! Good for her! Not for me. That is the motto women should constantly repeat over and over again. Good for her! Not for me.

I watched Saturday Night Live that night, drugged to the gills. I watched scenes that I had rehearsed hours before. I watched Maya and Kenan sing a song to me, and Seth tap my spot at the “Update” desk and tell me they loved me. I cried and cried and then laughed and laughed.

I don’t like it when bratty, privileged old white guys speak to me like I am their mouthy niece.

the three of us lived together in a cheap but beautiful Chicago apartment. Crown molding, wasted on the young.

Soon after, we performed the Del Close–invented long-form structure called “The Dream.” In it, you interviewed a member of the audience about their day and performed what you thought their dream would look like at night. And the gentleman in the audience who raised his hand? A young Seth Meyers. I don’t remember one thing about meeting him but I’m sure in Seth’s memoir he will describe it as the night he saw god.

Tina taught me how to pluck my eyebrows.

I got to see Tina Fey and Rachel Dratch every day. I met Seth Meyers in Mike Shoemaker’s office and something clicked inside of me, like a broken locket completed.

Molly Shannon, Kristen Wiig, and I all had that office at some point in our SNL careers. Each one of us carved her name in the desk.

When U2 performed, Bono came over to hug me. My whole body blushed and I almost died from excitement and fear. Years later I paid him back by making out with him during a bit at the Golden Globes, thus completing a circle and allowing myself to effectively time-travel.

Paula Pell was usually the funniest person in the room. Or Fred Armisen. Unless Baldwin was there.

“Debbie Downer” was one of the few sketches where I broke, and I remember watching Horatio Sanz laugh so hard that tears squirted out of his eyes. I still believe that sketch may be a cure for low-level depression if watched regularly.

The memories I have with Seth could fill a whole book. When I left SNL, I gave Seth a badge of courage, like Dorothy gives to the Cowardly Lion. The props department helped me make it. He kept it in his pocket during “Update” until he didn’t need it anymore. Now it sits in a box on his desk at Late Night.

When Tina left, I gave her dog tags that read “Pleasant Tomorrow.” Recently she gave them back to me while I was going through a tough time. I like to think we will give them back and forth to each other whenever needed.

I spent many nights in Tina’s office, watching her write and pretending to help her.

I looked out over Studio 8H and for the millionth time laughed at my crazy life. Tina and I used to look at each other before “Update” and also laugh at our crazy lives. We would whisper, “We fooled them!” Sometimes I would pat her knee.

I am supposed to act like I constantly feel guilty about being away from my kids. (I don’t. I love my job.) Mothers who stay at home are supposed to pretend they are bored and wish they were doing more corporate things. (They don’t. They love their job.)

Chris Rock once called me Rachel Dratch, proving once and for all that Chris Rock is horribly racist.

I decided to distract myself in that awkward and vulnerable moment the “winner” was announced. I decided to focus my attention on something I could control. Bits! Bits! Bits!

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.

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.

America’s Sweetheart, Seth Meyers.

Chadwick’s was in Lexington, Massachusetts, the rich town next door (the Eagleton to our Pawnee). Lexington was the famous home of the “Shot Heard ’Round the World.” Burlington was the home of the mall.

Lexington, as it turns out, is also Rachel Dratch’s hometown, and much later I would learn that she also worked at the same sticky emporium a few years before I did. Imagine if our paths had crossed! Imagine how hilarious we would have been while we shoved toothpicks in the club sandwiches! Think of all the jokes about “marrying the ketchups.” Such a waste.

Our ego is a monster that loves to sit at the head of the table,

TINA FEY IS MY COMEDY WIFE. I have known her for almost a double decade. We met each other when we were poor and single. Now we are both rich as shit and have husbands all over the world.

Tina reminds me of how far I have come. She knew me when. When we are together I feel strong and powerful.

I find that, in general, the amount of sharing men do with each other in one year is about the same as what I share with my female friends while we wait for our cars at the valet.

SNL and Parks and Rec, which both had more women writers than many other shows because Seth Meyers and Mike Schur (the head writers on each of these shows, respectively) are real men who love women.

Aubrey is my devil child and my girlfriend in crime. She will do anything for me, and me for her.

Aubrey has a shrine to Judy Garland in her house.

Change is the only constant. Your ability to navigate and tolerate change and its painful uncomfortableness directly correlates to your happiness and general well-being. See what I just did there? I saved you thousands of dollars on self-help books.