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Why do I still do it?

I have been a struggling comedian for as long as I can remember. Like, years and years and years. Sure, I've had some successful moments and of course me doing stand up lead to me meeting my husband which lead to me having my sweet baby (and ruined butt hole. If this reference doesn't make any sense, please scroll down to one of my previous posts regarding the butt hole business). I have had a million day jobs in between comedy work, begun projects that have failed miserably, produced shows that only one person has attended, racked up insane debt in order to do festivals, and once bombed so hard that a dude heckled me with "Kill yourself!"
I have auditioned for hundreds and hundreds of commercials and shows, been put on "avail" and not booked so many times, cried in the bathroom after sucking at a big audition, yelled "I'm fucking quitting!!!!" to myself in my car on the way home from a terrible audition, and have eaten my weight in feelings in the form of whole blocks of cheese, ice cream with my hands, and jars of frosting, also with my hands. To be honest since moving to LA a few years ago from New York I haven't really found my rhythm and have questioned all of my choices up until now, and am constantly worried that my daughter will have to be raised in an abandoned bath tub that is laying on it's side next to the dried up LA river, everyday hearing from me and her father, "Don't worry babe, today I have an audition to play a quirky mom that's borderline homely in a commercial for herpes! It's our ticket out of this tub!"
So why for the love of everything loved am I still plugging away at this? Is it the undying belief in  myself that one day if I work hard enough and never give up I'll "make it"? Is it the allure of those things I actually do book, though few and far between, that convince me to get up each day and try, try again? Is it the adorable look that my Bo gives me when I snuggle her in the morning and tell her about the day ahead that says, "I'm so proud of you Mommy!"

Nope. It's things like this:

Yesterday I had an audition where I had to play the mom to a little boy. He's five. It appeared that his mom gave him a fun combination of pixie sticks and pure sugar cane right before we went in the room together. He hugged me really hard, then ran into where the casting director was. The casting director took our pictures then asked for slates.
Casting guy: Hello there, tell me your name please.
Me: Hi, I'm Amy Albert.
Casting guy: Thank you Amy. And you young man, whats your name?
Kid: I'm Jake and I just farted!
Me: blink, blink, blink...
Casting guy: blink, blink, blink...
Kid: "squeaks out another teeny fart"
Me: Baller move dude!
Casting guy: Uh, cut.

Jake's fart is essentially my auditioning Ground Hog, providing me with at least six more weeks of exuberance to carry on. Also it was gross and hilarious and I'm so excited it happened!

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