This Will Only Hurt a Little(48)
The flights were always empty in those months following September 11, and they would always use those huge planes. I got used to flying coach and having three seats to myself and being able to lie down and sleep the whole five hours. Then when I got to the Charlotte airport, I would buy two Chinese chicken salads from the CPK ASAP and bring them on the commuter flight back to Wilmington for Michelle and me to eat together for dinner. (Michelle usually flew direct to New York, so she didn’t go through the Charlotte airport very frequently, and we both loved that salad.)
One morning, as my flight from Charlotte to Wilmington took off, I looked out to the right side of the plane and saw a ton of smoke on the ground at the airport. When we landed, Caleb was waiting for me and told me the commuter flight that took off right before ours, which was heading to Greenville, South Carolina, had crashed and everyone was killed. CNN hadn’t been sure which flight it was that had gone down at first. He handed me his phone and said, “Call your mom.” My mother was, as you can imagine, apoplectic. But I assured her I was fine and would be fine; after all, my guardian angel told me when I was fifteen that nothing bad would ever happen to me on a plane, remember? “Oh! That’s right, Busy. Well, I guess I won’t worry then.”
In general, I tried to be good at my job. I got used to people staring at me in airports. But it was hard to feel settled or like I had any ownership over my involvement in the show, since I’d been added in the fifth season. Even recently, when I was asked to participate in the reunion for Entertainment Weekly, my first reaction was, “Are they sure they want me involved?” Also, even though my friends and Craig had agreed to watch me on the show, I don’t think they actually ever did. Truthfully, even I stopped watching after a few episodes.
I settled into the weekly wardrobe humiliations, where I was tucked and pulled and my body looked at with such disdain by the woman doing the costumes, all while she would talk about how Katie can just WEAR ANYTHING, you know? Because she just WORKS SO HARD at it. She LOVES running and SPIN CLASS! I knew it was pointed. I’m not an idiot, lady. But guess what? I’m depressed and away from my friends and boyfriend and living in a city where I’m basically friends with two people, so forgive me that I want to eat turkey burgers and fries and drink vodka cranberries on the regular.
Michelle started dating a guy who lived close by, so she was basically gone all the time. Tracey and I would go out almost every night, especially if I didn’t have an early call. But even when I did, I got fairly used to working with a hangover. The only thing that temporarily made me forget my loneliness was drinking—and passing out before the ghosts had a chance to freak me out.
Work was fine. I liked everyone okay and everyone seemed to like me. I was neutral territory, since I had no drama and history with any of them, so I could work with anyone with no problem. One day, the whole cast was sitting around a table filming the Thanksgiving episode, and James looked at me and said, “See? You got lucky. Your show was canceled after the first season.”
I was so shocked by his complete lack of perspective, I was speechless. I mean. YOU ALL are the lucky ones, here on SEASON FIVE of your HIT TV SHOW. Your LIVES were changed. No one gave a fuck who I was after my one season on Freaks and Geeks. So what if they had some personality clashes? They were green-lighting movies. James had gotten a million dollars for Varsity Blues. Katie was working with huge directors.
Sometimes people on TV shows get fooled into thinking that the very thing that made them to begin with is the thing that’s now holding them back. It’s a weird phenomenon that happens, mostly because I think their reps start telling them, “Just wait. As soon as you’re OFF THIS SHOW, the opportunities will be ENDLESS!” But the opportunities exist because of the show. And when you stop being in people’s living rooms week after week, the other opportunities start to disappear. Most people learn this the hard way. I felt like I already knew it.
After Christmas break, I somehow convinced my roommate from college, Diana, to come live with me until the end of the season. She had graduated the spring before and was back with her parents in San Diego, looking for work as a graphic designer. It was so much fun living together again. I wasn’t lonely, I was sleeping again, and I didn’t have to be drunk to fall asleep!
She’d only been there for a few weeks when I heard her on the phone in the living room screaming. I went in to find her pacing and near hysterics. She lit a cigarette. Her best friend from childhood, Sarah, had been in London working as an au pair and she’d been found unconscious and brain dead in her room. She’d been sick for a few weeks. I knew this because just a few days earlier Diana had been on the phone with Sarah while I was leaving for work, and as I walked out, Diana called out to me, “Busy! Tell Sarah to go to the doctor! She’s been sick for weeks!!” and I screamed into the phone, “GO TO THE DOCTOR, SARAH!!!”
She didn’t and ended up with meningitis. Her parents had to fly to London and take her off life support and bring her body home. It was truly tragic. I knew Sarah well; she was Diana’s Emily. Diana was devastated but I knew what to do. I got a cold washcloth and had her sit down and cry and I made the plans for her to return to San Diego to be with her and Sarah’s families.
After Diana left, I was even sadder and lonelier. I started drinking more. One Friday night, I was shooting a scene with Josh where we were in bed together making out, a classic WB sex scene. He had a new girlfriend who was in town visiting, and he brought her to set that night. I wasn’t ever really comfortable with the make-out and sex scenes, partially because I had been made to feel so bad about my body, but also because it’s just a really awkward thing to do. But having the other actor’s girlfriend there, watching me and making weird comments after each take, like how she was going to need him to Listerine his mouth before she kissed him again, was just too humiliating. I felt like shit. What the fuck was this job? This was the thing that was going to change my career? This was it?