Dear Ryan Seacrest,

Dear Ryan Seacrest,
I need my own tv show. It's not so much a want, more a need. For both of us.
A bit about me: I am a typical 9 to 5'er (correction 9 to 6'er, that whole "9 to 5 bit" is a major falsity, I'll write to whoever started that lie later), who feels my talents would be better served in front of the camera of my own half hour (could be an hour if the editing was done right) television show. I am willing to do almost anything on my show (well except maybe bite the head off of a pigeon a la Ozzy Osbourne, but definitely don a unitard and walk the streets of Los Angeles with a midget a la Chelsea Handler - I love love love miniatures, but that's a separate letter). I am also great with people and can chase them down in 5 inch heels if necessary (don't ask). I think alcohol is 50% of the food pyramid and carbs should be the other 50. I used to be so ugly I had to sneak up on water to get a drink. I have a dating history that rivals "Another World" (RIP). I can also have an entire conversation with an answering machine or any other inanimate object.

Call me.


P.S: I don't eat meat.


Thursday, June 30, 2011

College Flashback

When I was in college I decided to take a "challenging" class, one that would be totally different from the rest of my coursework (I went to fashion school).  So I embarked upon "Major Writers of the Western World". This was going to be my intellectual "smarty pants" class.

On the first day of class I was having a "thin day" so I put on my skinny jeans and a strapless black tube top. I felt awesome. I asked my roommate how I looked and she said "great!". I thought to myself "hell yah I do". 

So I walked to class thinking "this is going to be an AWESOME day". Kind of like a good hair day, a "thin day" has the same effect on self esteem, it's an invincible like feeling as if nothing can possibly go wrong.

As class started we all sat in a circle and went around the room and said something about ourselves, I noticed a girl directly across from me just staring me down with a nasty stare. "Jealous" I thought to myself. As class progressed I noticed she just kept looking at me with this hateful scowl. "What is her f-ing problem?" This is my thin day, nothing is going to ruin it. 

Then on break I went to the bathroom and as I looked up, it happened. I noticed it. The reason I'd been receiving the death stares. In the light my shirt was see through. Holy Shit. Was I wearing a bra? Of course not. So there I was, in all my nipple glory. I was horrified. I called my roommate "why the F did you not tell me my F-ing shirt was see through!?!?", "I didn't notice it". YAH right. Well normally I just would have hid my face and ran home, but this was the first day of class so I had to go back. Shit. 

I folded my arms and walked back, as soon as I got back I grabbed a piece of paper, correction: 10 sheets of paper and held them up the rest of class. 

That girl never did look at me in a nice way, I mean I can't really blame her. After my first day as a hooker, really no place to go with our relationship from there. 

I never did wear that shirt again. It was a cute shirt too. You may ask why I couldn't have just worn a bra with it, but once you've shown the world your nip nips, the PTSD is just too great to give it another go...
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