But, look. A lot of it’s well-documented. I went to the University of Arizona. I was insane. That’s okay too. But I feel lucky enough now at 43 to be like, “Okay. Let’s get it together.”
Usually you get introduced to that [on the] first day. You’re like, I don’t need to—it’s not something you go back to. It’s a one-time experience.
I think I was 18 and probably violently high, like, “This is so cool. All the sandwiches are named after weed!” That, to me, was the peak of American culture.
Violently high sounds like Tucson, Arizona. It is one of the greatest places. If you want to talk about smoking mushrooms and going camping, I highly suggest Tucson, Arizona.
In your 20s and 30s when you are drinking and staying out late, there’s also a huge mental benefit to that. You know what I mean? The idea of just being a monk when you’re 26, like, “Oh, I’m not going to drink tonight,” that would’ve had a much more detrimental effect on me than the opposite.
Sure, sure. A therapist would say, “You are lying to yourself.” But yes, I think an outlet is good. Again, I don’t judge any of my behavior, because I still love to throw down. But I do know I am able to identify it more now as intent—why I really want to get down. Maybe I’m not doing it anymore out of loneliness. Maybe I’m doing it truly out of release, and that is a different party or a celebration.
I think sometimes when you’re young, partying is like, “Friday night is a party,” and that’s great and fun, but those parties sometimes are not as fun as the big party for when your show gets picked up, or you get a raise, or your kid’s bar mitzvah, or whatever. That just happened to me. I went hard. But the fact that I don’t as much anymore made that night so much more fun, and it made that hangover so much more worth it.
The earned hangover is a concept that I really like.
I love it. I want the latest check-out possible. I want to order room service in a bathrobe. I want to have a headache so bad, and the only thing that fixes it is one of those showers in a hotel where you don’t know where the door is. That is something you would’ve never heard from me 10 years ago. I would’ve been like, “Are we bringing Molly? Or are we buying it? Does anyone have a number?” The drinking is not the problem.
I’m thinking now about all of the weird hotel room service orders I’ve done where I’m like, they know that I am a shell of myself, but that’s why room service exists.
When you’re coming back late and you see a half-eaten room service thing outside the door, you pull something off that?
Ooh. I would have to guess that I have. I don’t specifically remember like, grabbing a sandwich, but I know exactly what you’re talking about.
I pretty much do it all the time. If I’ve tied one on, I’m going back to my room, and someone has left out a coconut shrimp, it’s getting killed. I’ve eaten half-eaten burgers. I’ve picked up pasta dishes, brought them back to my room, and eaten it with a fork or with the coffee stirrer. Disgusting human garbage. No one’s eating that sloppy Joe at the Ace Hotel at 4 in the morning in Portland? I’m going to crush it.
Do you have a go-to hangover cure?
If you’re in Los Angeles, you go to the Beverly Hills Juice, you get the apple lemon, triple ginger juice. You suck down as much of it as you can, and then you just let that burn through your head, your face, your body. Eventually it’ll burn through your butt, depending on what you did the night before. That and a shower, and you should be able to go somewhere. The New York hangover, it’s a little softer. It sets you off into this chaos of the day, more like a pillow. Whereas in Los Angeles, you’re going to be in the sunlight, so you need that shove I think.