If you find yourself out of time in the morning, and think it would be a good idea to put makeup on in the car at a stoplight, think again. Might as well just stick your head in your makeup bag and shake it around. If you can't get your happy little self up 5 minutes early to slap on some powder and mascara, don't bother. I guarantee, the look you are going for will not be found in a 3"x6" mirror w/ bad lighting. You're gonna end up looking like and old French whore. FOCUS ON THE ROAD, LADY!!
I've gotta be honest, I got a little bit of stage fright. I felt like Cindy Brady, staring at that red light from the camera, unable to move. What caused such terror, you ask? Well, first I peed...then I posted. Peed, then posted, then watched as over 4,000...ok, who am I kidding? Like I don't know the EXACT amount! 4,158 people read my post. Then retweeted and reposted 77 times. It was exhilarating! But then the pressure set in. I felt like there were expectations...assumptions...and other 'tions' that I can't quite think of right now, but I know they are there.
I've heard of this sort of thing happening before with actors, musicians, you know artsy folk like myself. :) You have a great first album and then you hit the Sophomore Slump. Michael Jackson once said that Thriller was his undoing because he spent the rest of his life trying to top it. Sometimes things just happen and we shouldn't try to top them. We should just enjoy the ride and move on. Easier said than done. I feel ya, Mike. Word. You had Thriller and I... I... I peed.
So hear me now and believe me later! From this day forward I shall write like nobody's watching! And dance like I can't hear the music...or run like I don't need the shoes...or some crap like that. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING!! I can't always be your hero. I am just little old me. Just a girl, standing in front of a boy...computer, asking it to love her. :) (can you name that movie?! I will be impressed!!)
My goal for 2011 is to be here 3-4 times per week w/ my thoughts, wonderings and queries. It may not always be spectacular or thought provoking, but it will be honest and it will be me.
I realize I've been MIA for about 3 weeks. The shame of it all. :( But the day we went to Disneyland, my mom was watching Adam and long story short, fell down the stairs and broke her leg. So things have been a little busy around these parts, and with Christmas coming...well, ok...excuse out of the way. Moving on...
Back to Disneyland...
"Get your 20-something ASS out of Fantasyland!!" is what I wanted to say. Allow me to wrap up Fantasyland for you young adults out there so that you can move on with your life;
#1 - Prince Charming isn't coming. Trust me. Trust US! (Look at the faces of all the 40-something mothers in line for 45 minutes with their children. Do these look like the faces of women who have been SAVED?! So do us the small favor of taking your "Juicy" butt to another 'land'!) Prince Charming is living in his mama's house playing X-box and hoping for Kinectimals from Santa. Guess what...he's gonna get it!
#2 - The glass slipper might fit, but buy your own damn shoes so you don't have to rely on someone else.
#3 - I'M your fairy godmother and I have an important message for you...GET A LIFE!
Where you should be headed is Tommorowland, as in ..."TOMORROW I needs to find me a job to pay for my shoes so I don't have random TUESDAYS to spend at the Magic Kingdom where I dropped $150 before I reached Sleeping Beauty's Castle!"
And filming the parade?...Really? Really. Gonna TRY to push my baby out of the way so you can see the PEOPLE DRESSED UP AS POOH AND TIGGER!??! News Flash: THEY AREN'T REAL!!!!!!! In line for the Princess Meet & Greet? Really? Nothing better to do? Nada? How about this idea, let me put on my Imagineer helmet for a second and imagine 2 lines to meet the princesses. One line for little 2-8 year old girls and their tired, haggard, want-to-jump-off-the-Matterhorn parents. And one line entitiled, "Pitiful Bastards". I'm thinking a 5-1 ratio. Five little girls to 1 pitiful bastard. Sounds fair. I can hear it now, "Ok girls, it's your turn! And we have 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 sweet little girls...and 1 pitiful bastard."
Please God, let me have this job! I believe me and my wooden spoon are up to the task!