It occurred to me that I refuse to actually achieve anything in my life because I still consider fame a viable career option. One of these days, I’m going to get swept up in the current and deposited on Oprah. I swear. Certainly, this would be more difficult if I had the entanglements of a real career. Luckily, I am generally fancy free, although one client just accepted my ridiculous total whore price for what promises to be the most annoying job in history. I am going to word the contract so I can fire him at any time. And Mr. H can feed the cat if I am called to Hollywood.
I realized that I am ill-prepared for fame, so I decided to create a Learning Annex-style crash course on how to handle it.
Part One: Dealing with unwanted attention
I decided to stalk myself. I started by going through the trash. The bathroom trash is really not that interesting. It’s mostly dental floss, and tissues with odd stains on them. Is it blood? Makeup? What? You all have these tissues, do not try to act like you don’t. The kitchen trash was the motherlode. It was filled to the brim with liquor bottles, pregnancy tests, rubber gloves, and empty pill bottles. Great! Now I know the name of my pharmacist. I photographed everything. I left Zellweger a note to shred everything, even the banana peels.
Then I decided to practice my expression for when I’m photographed on the sly. I sat in the living room with a camera for what seemed like forever, but I didn’t spot myself. Finally, I caught myself in the bathroom mirror. Augh! I look so fat! The camera is adding ten pounds. Nevermind! Composure. Happy place. I took my shirt off and pretended I was on a yacht. Composure.
As I left for the grocery store, I put on my largest pair of sunglasses and a fur bikini top. I threw red paint on myself as I was distracted by fumbling with the car remote. That’ll teach me! Never again will I let my guard down.
Then I was recognized at Starbucks. “Your drink will be up at the bar, Licketysplit!” And then again, “I have a soy latte for Licketysplit! Have a good day, Licketysplit!” My God, can’t these people see I am just out for a quiet afternoon? There’s a time and a place for fawning over a celebrity. Composure! I smiled graciously and adjusted my sunglasses. I pulled out a Sharpie and signed the bar. I’m sure they’ll want to hang it on the wall in a glass case now.
Tomorrow: Part Two: Money management
[…] the Vomitola household. Mr. H thinks I am simply not funny. While I regard the concept of stalking myself as comedy gold, his first thought was that he was worried that I actually do this around the house […]