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.


Friday, April 1, 2011

My Biggest Fear - BUTTONS

Growing up I wore uniforms in school. Everyday when I got home I'd do airplane arms and have my babysitter or mother unbutton my shirt. The thought of touching them would make me cry. 
It was all I could do getting through the day without touching them. Or getting them wet. God forbid I spilled my drink on them.
                                               
                                                              NOT ok
When my school switched to the option of wearing the button down OR the school provided t-shirt I wore that t-shirt EVERYDAY. T-shirt all the way. 

In my last job I dealt with men's dress shirts. With certain vendors we could pick the buttons. Oh. My. Gosh. My own personal version of hell. Buttons would arrive at the office and I could feel the sweat beads forming on my head. Please, do NOT make me touch them. My boss used to threaten to hold a button up to my lip (if it's cool then it's mother of pearl and not plastic), it nearly did me in. I had a vendor who would routinely call me to discuss the buttons and I would routinely tell him to not call me about the buttons. Under no circumstance did I want to talk about them. 

I always thought I'd grow out of my fear of buttons. But here I am, nearly 25 and still not wearin em. I have one shirt in my closet with buttons...and in my closet it sits. It's no longer appropriate for me to do airplane arms, my boyfriend already thinks I'm strange enough. 

If you're wondering WHY I'm afraid of buttons, join the club. However, on the list of things for me to work through in therapy buttons is actually fairly low on the list. So, I think buttons may remain the great mystery of my life. 

OK
 However, someone told me the other day they're afraid of baby seals. What a weirdo.
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2 comments:

  1. UnknownApril 4, 2011 at 3:24 PM

    ahahahaha! the ending is perfect. LOL

    ReplyDelete
  2. LindsayApril 4, 2011 at 8:27 PM

    You are too much. I never knew about this fear of buttons!! Its about as strange as my fear of Amish people. Well, actually no, yours is way weirder.

    ReplyDelete

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