I've never watched an episode of The Bachelor[ette]. I think the concept of competing for love is absurd. The ridiculous things people do to prove their worth is straight up silly.
With that said I've decided it may be in my best in my best interest to compete for a rose. I will (undoubtedly) make it through a few rounds while winning America over. They'll fall in love with my apprehension of reality TV and my tell-it-like-it-is way of life. I know, playing up my strengths seems like a slid plan!
Next, I act heartbroken when I get kicked off. I probably will be upset because I don't like to lose, but I'll have to play it up so the world thinks I have feelings for someone other than myself.
Finally, I leverage my place as America's newest IT girl to become a correspondent on Good Morning America. The transition is a no-brainer because I've proven great for ABC's ratings and I have a journalism degree.
You see, being a contestant on The Bachelor is a power move. It'll be good for my career.
If only I thought up this scheme a few years ago I could have been reporting live from Rome today, as the new Pope was named, standing next to the man of my dreams; Josh Elliott.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
A Degree in Comedy
Today I saw an article in the Huffington Post about getting a degree in comedy from Columbia College in conjunction with Second City. If this program was offered when I was applying to college I would have been on the first flight to Chicago. Then again, back in the early 2000s I had no idea how insanely absurd my life would end up or how desperately I would need to craft the art of comedic story writing.
I am 28 (almost 29) years old, live with my parents, work a job that pays too little and spend my weekends hanging out with the boys I grew up with. My mom believes those boys are the reason I'm still single. "A nice guy isn't going to approach you if you're always with THEM".
I do have a solid group of girlfriends too. You know, the kind of girlfriends you make in a freshman dorm, pee in alleys with, order late night take-out with, take your first pregnancy test with and promise you'll be friends with till the end of time. And we will be; friends till the end that is. We call ourselves a club. Most of the girls have done their share of growing up. Serious boyfriends, Ivy League grad schools, babies & marriages have filled the past few years of club life. Hell, even the lesbians of the group are starting to chat about future nursery schools.
Don't get me wrong, I want to grow up. Really I do! But, I just can't seem to figure out how.
The day to day occurrences of my life are the makings of a really sad story. Tagline "A girl who never got her shit together". But if I got my degree in comedy I'd turn it into a sitcom. A Seinfeld meets Friends meets Modern Family meets Sex And The City type of show.
Editor's Note: I did take a script writing class in grad school. I got an A. At the end of the semester I was asked out by the instructor. He had a film degree from USC so I said yes. (Having spent my high school years watching Dawson Leary apply to film school, I felt I had no choice but to say yes!) After few dates and an encounter with Murphy Bed (Uncle Jesse style) the relationship came to a screeching halt.
I can fill at least four seasons with stories like this about dweebs I've dated, friends I have and my neurotic family. I'm telling you, I'm a living, breathing sitcom!
Editor's Note 2.0: Despite my Dawson reference, I always have been and always will be Team Pacey.
I am 28 (almost 29) years old, live with my parents, work a job that pays too little and spend my weekends hanging out with the boys I grew up with. My mom believes those boys are the reason I'm still single. "A nice guy isn't going to approach you if you're always with THEM".
I do have a solid group of girlfriends too. You know, the kind of girlfriends you make in a freshman dorm, pee in alleys with, order late night take-out with, take your first pregnancy test with and promise you'll be friends with till the end of time. And we will be; friends till the end that is. We call ourselves a club. Most of the girls have done their share of growing up. Serious boyfriends, Ivy League grad schools, babies & marriages have filled the past few years of club life. Hell, even the lesbians of the group are starting to chat about future nursery schools.
Don't get me wrong, I want to grow up. Really I do! But, I just can't seem to figure out how.
The day to day occurrences of my life are the makings of a really sad story. Tagline "A girl who never got her shit together". But if I got my degree in comedy I'd turn it into a sitcom. A Seinfeld meets Friends meets Modern Family meets Sex And The City type of show.
Editor's Note: I did take a script writing class in grad school. I got an A. At the end of the semester I was asked out by the instructor. He had a film degree from USC so I said yes. (Having spent my high school years watching Dawson Leary apply to film school, I felt I had no choice but to say yes!) After few dates and an encounter with Murphy Bed (Uncle Jesse style) the relationship came to a screeching halt.
I can fill at least four seasons with stories like this about dweebs I've dated, friends I have and my neurotic family. I'm telling you, I'm a living, breathing sitcom!
Editor's Note 2.0: Despite my Dawson reference, I always have been and always will be Team Pacey.
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