As I sit here daintily sipping my glass of blush wine, eyes casually surveying the brilliance that is Fashion Police, I can't help but let my thoughts drift over to the many possible trivialities to come in my sure to be disastrous future. Although I am choosing to keep most of my plans clandestine, an elementary delineation of the basic ground rules for my new life plan seems to be in order. This will likely to not only prove valuable to myself, as my oncoming fame will certainly be swift and blinding, but also to my family, friends and acquaintances so that they may know best how to assist me in my quest. Please know that although I care for all of you greatly, as I do all of my dear fans, my focus shifting overwhelmingly to myself may, in fact, require you to contract the services of a mental health professional or narcotics dealer so that you can cope with the jarring change in our relational circumstances.
First, what I refuse to do no matter how jaded I become:
1) Make a sex tape with a D-List celebrity. This will not happen not because I'm married, but because I feel it's cheating in the game. The rise to stardom would occur so quickly, I would not have time to accurately vet my publicist, lawyer, stylist, and hair and makeup team. Priorities, people.
2) Be photographed in a short dress without knickers. I think this is something we as a society are seriously finally over. I wouldn't get the same attention as I would have gotten a few years ago so it's not even worth it.
3) Carry a small dog with me everywhere I go. Although I personally think using a canine as an accessory is cruel and ridiculous, the act itself would not be noticeable in Portland; most people cannot even attend a funeral without bringing their pooch escort.
4) Get a DUI or go to rehab. Not even funny. Not happening.
Now, the few aspects of my plan I can reveal:
1) Never go out in public unless well put-together, with fab clothes and makeup. This means that I must look ready for photographs or personal appearances anywhere, anytime. The only exceptions to this rule are workout wear, as exercising in heels is dangerous and counterproductive in the long term, and when I'm arriving at the airport after a 12 hour flight wearing my track suit and giant owl sunglasses, because my eyes will look super puffy after all of the free chardonnay in first class.
2) Get things for free. This is one of the best parts of being famous. I've never quite understood how the people who get expensive items for free usually tend to be only people that could afford them in the first place. I will have absolutely have nothing to spend at all on anything fabulous at the start of my adventure, so I will simply have to assume that the world's financially endowed will continue their rampant generosity and willingly let me join their ranks. I am certain they will be more than happy to do the same for anyone else of my caliber.
3) Drink champagne. I will pop open a bottle and make toasts at any time I wish, for any reason at all. In addition, I am required to drink any glass of champagne someone offers me. The exceptions to this rule are that my husband has the right of override, so that he can refuse to allow me a delicious sparkling beverage if he thinks I will evacuate my stomach all over myself or drift into unconsciousness in a public location; the other exception being that I start urinating under stairs, in alleys, or in potted plants.
4) Start a trend, launch a fashion line, or create a perfume. I will choose one and move forward with real plans. More details to come at a later date.
5) Photobombing. I will find my way into nearly every picture being taken in this town. Believe it.
6) Attend 90% of social engagements I am invited to. However, I will be late and act offended if anyone doesn't know who I am. I have had to turn down most invitations to gatherings and events in the last decade, but since I now have nothing better to do, I suppose you will now be graced with my presence.
7) Document everything in a visual medium. This is fairly self-explanatory but I assure you there will be plenty of pictures and film to accompany my written accounts.
That's enough for now. It should be enough to keep my fans happy. Chelsea Lately has started and my glass is empty. Time to send my husband for a refill and contemplate my look for tomorrow.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
A Reintroduction
This blog was once an exercise in the absurd, in the sense I would transcribe my dreams and embellish some details for dramatic effect. At the time, I was merely working at one place of employment and felt the overwhelming sense of relaxation that provided.
Since the age of 14, I had always been employed in some way; after 16 I
was full time and beyond. I usually attended school, worked full time in
one place and worked at least 20 hours somewhere else at the same time. Sleep was truly a luxury. At the time of my first blog post, I was thrilled to finally have time to return to my creative roots, but only a few months later I would be working upwards of 80 hours a week. Exhaustion soon set in and my diverting enterprises were long forgotten.
A deep sense of responsibility and drive to assist others had always made most of my decisions for me. I took any AP class I could in high school so I could enter PSU as a sophomore. I took overtime classes and worked two jobs to finish my undergraduate courses without any debt. My social life suffered but I assumed I could make up for lost time in the future. I worked & volunteered at non-profits, then spent years as a teacher (first in England and then in Beaverton), edited grants, and then performed data collection for educational projects. I always wanted to make sure that what I was doing made a difference in someone's life. The sad part of this is that somewhere along the way I stopped enjoying it. As much as I could do, as hard as I tried, it just was never enough. There was always someone to complain, someone to demand more, someone to comment on how different I was at how I did things, no matter how well I did. I struggled with remaining altruistic.
My last place of employment started to decrease its number of hours available and yet involved a great many hours of driving to far away schools. I enjoyed it but I was spending a significant amount of time in the car and too much money on gasoline. I found a job ad for something entirely different, where I was certain I could do a great job, and applied. It was near mass transit yet only 15 minutes from my home by car if I chose to drive. It involved working closely and forming relationships with all sorts of different people but yet would allow me to take full benefit of my extreme need for organization and attention to detail. I was truly excited to apply and further delighted to have two interviews and my references were called. The future looked fabulous as I could earn a great living working at *gasp* one place not far from where I lived. I sent an interview thank-you letter and waited. And waited. Annnnnnnd waited. To this day I've heard not a word.
As the weeks went by, I was more and more reminded of all the hundreds of job applications I submitted for teaching jobs, all the interviews I attended, all of the "we've decided to go in another direction" letters I've read over the years. I also remembered all the parts of myself I've ignored and let die while being concerned about the world and everyone in it. A couple weeks ago, I awoke from my fitful slumber with a splitting headache and a terminal case of the "fuck-its". A few days later, my mother fell unexpectedly ill and I needed to take her to the emergency room. After she was admitted to the hospital, I spent the next few days ruminating on how fortunate it was that I didn't get that other job, because I wouldn't have been able to handle everything. I took it as a sign from the universe that it was okay to take a break and I tried to get my brain to understand the concept of a course diversion into funtown. A couple of panic attacks later, I think I've just about accepted my destiny:
I have deleted my fictional compositions on this blog and have left the first post only as a reminder to myself how it could have been, how it should have been, and how it's going to be. Get ready world, this is going to be TERRIBLE.
A deep sense of responsibility and drive to assist others had always made most of my decisions for me. I took any AP class I could in high school so I could enter PSU as a sophomore. I took overtime classes and worked two jobs to finish my undergraduate courses without any debt. My social life suffered but I assumed I could make up for lost time in the future. I worked & volunteered at non-profits, then spent years as a teacher (first in England and then in Beaverton), edited grants, and then performed data collection for educational projects. I always wanted to make sure that what I was doing made a difference in someone's life. The sad part of this is that somewhere along the way I stopped enjoying it. As much as I could do, as hard as I tried, it just was never enough. There was always someone to complain, someone to demand more, someone to comment on how different I was at how I did things, no matter how well I did. I struggled with remaining altruistic.
My last place of employment started to decrease its number of hours available and yet involved a great many hours of driving to far away schools. I enjoyed it but I was spending a significant amount of time in the car and too much money on gasoline. I found a job ad for something entirely different, where I was certain I could do a great job, and applied. It was near mass transit yet only 15 minutes from my home by car if I chose to drive. It involved working closely and forming relationships with all sorts of different people but yet would allow me to take full benefit of my extreme need for organization and attention to detail. I was truly excited to apply and further delighted to have two interviews and my references were called. The future looked fabulous as I could earn a great living working at *gasp* one place not far from where I lived. I sent an interview thank-you letter and waited. And waited. Annnnnnnd waited. To this day I've heard not a word.
As the weeks went by, I was more and more reminded of all the hundreds of job applications I submitted for teaching jobs, all the interviews I attended, all of the "we've decided to go in another direction" letters I've read over the years. I also remembered all the parts of myself I've ignored and let die while being concerned about the world and everyone in it. A couple weeks ago, I awoke from my fitful slumber with a splitting headache and a terminal case of the "fuck-its". A few days later, my mother fell unexpectedly ill and I needed to take her to the emergency room. After she was admitted to the hospital, I spent the next few days ruminating on how fortunate it was that I didn't get that other job, because I wouldn't have been able to handle everything. I took it as a sign from the universe that it was okay to take a break and I tried to get my brain to understand the concept of a course diversion into funtown. A couple of panic attacks later, I think I've just about accepted my destiny:
I've decided to become the most famous person ever for doing absolutely nothing. In a time where anyone can become a celebrity for absolutely no good reason at all, I will be the champion of doing the least. I'm going to perform exercises in pure indulgence and revel in every moment of my newly useless existence, all while sharing every moment of my non-inspirational journey with you.
I have deleted my fictional compositions on this blog and have left the first post only as a reminder to myself how it could have been, how it should have been, and how it's going to be. Get ready world, this is going to be TERRIBLE.
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