April 9, 2007
Today, My Celebrity
Life Begins
I
am going to follow in the footsteps of Britney Spears and shave my head.
I’ve been thinking long and hard about this, and I’ve decided that it is
absolutely brilliant. Now, I just need to convince everyone else in my
family, company, neighborhood and city to do the same. Consider the
advantages. First, you could probably sleep anywhere from 5-45 minutes
longer each morning. And sleep is great for stress relief and weight
management. Score one for baldness!
Second, once the idea caught on, I’d no longer be envious of that girl
in my department whose hair is perfectly tousled – daily, mind you – and
has that sexy bed-head look. My bed-head is more on the scary end of the
spectrum, and I bet yours is, too. In the world of cue balls, no one
would care.
It
might even mean that someday, women – like men – would be judged solely
by what is in their head. Not by what is on it.
I’ve got some other lifestyle ideas that I’m going to steal from
celebrities while I’m at it. Just like Denise Richards, I’m going to
whack people and throw their computers off balconies when they try to
dip too far into my business. OK, so we don’t actually have balconies in
cubicle-land, but next time the office gossip sidles up to my cube, I do
have a variety of weapons from which to choose: full water bottle, phone
or coffee mug.
This might work for in-laws, too. Personally, I don’t have nosey ones,
but many of my friends do. And I’m quite sure that throwing one of their
prized possessions out of a second-story window would keep them away for
at least a week.
I’ve also decided to hire a talent agent. It’s hard to imagine that all
these years, I’ve been out there, all alone, vying for myself in the
cruel corporate world. I’ve been to casting calls (phone interviews),
script readings (live interviews), and endlessly assessed by the critics
(performance reviews).
It
would be so much easier to build a long-lasting, solid, trusting
relationship with a talent agent. One like Jim Carrey’s, who brought him
from a few hundred bucks per appearance to millions – in what most
corporate lifers would consider very short time. My talent agent could
scour the company for all the coolest projects, and get me on those
teams. He could negotiate my salary, vacation, and limit my prime time
assignments to a few at a time.
Perhaps he could get me a seat at the Academy Awards, but even more
useful would be his weekly trips out for my dry cleaning. Because I’m
really getting sick of that chore!
Finally, I am frequently going to check myself into rehab – whether I
need it or not. That’s going to solve everything. The accidental
outburst I had during a meeting last week – what did I just say that out
loud? Chalk it up to my “problem.” The deadline I missed that put the
whole project behind by 15 minutes? All is forgiven, because clearly, I
have a “problem.”
My
mom will have to take care of my son, and all the people I work with
will have to send me flowers and presents, and the best part of all?
Everyone can tiptoe around me when I come back to work. So, if I don’t
want to, I won’t have to talk to them and it won’t even seem rude.
I
guess if we could all do what the celebrities do, we’d be living the
highlife. Of course, when they’re not in rehab, they get to live it in
an 11-bedroom, nine-bathroom mansion with their on-again, off-again
boyfriends and their pink-clad Chihuahuas.
As
for me, my version of “living large” is a 3-bedroom home, and only
needing to hit my mechanic’s shop four times a year instead my normal
six. He understands that the dent on my hood was because of “my
problem” and it should certainly be overlooked – by him, my spouse,
friends, parents, coworkers, and of course, the police.
All this license, and it all starts with a razor to my skull. And you
all thought Britney was an airhead.
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