Originally posted December 10, 2009...
It is 2.45 pm, though it could be am as far as my internal clock is concerned. I have been trying, rather unsuccessfully to sleep in shifts lately, like an in-demand surgeon or a wolf. I have two part-time jobs in addition to rehearsals, and while I’m very grateful to have them, the hours make me crazy. For instance, I have to get up at 3.45 am to catch busses to get to job one by 5:00 am. The shifts are short, though, and I am usually home by 10.30. However, rehearsals and job two are evening shifts, meaning I work from about 5-11:00 pm, and get home about midnight. These hours make me useful and competent in precisely zero situations. Rehearsals don’t pay, and I don’t have enough hours in one job over the other to justify quitting, but something’s gotta give. That’s why I’ve decide to kick-start my acting/writing/awesomeness career by becoming famous, if only for fifteen minutes. And there’s one fifteen minute slot that is the great equalizer, that has the power to make someone instantly popular, even if just for one afternoon. So here is my Dream as of December 10, 2009.
Dream: To appear on the Oprah Winfrey Show.
Goal: Achievable, with caveats. Oprah has announced she will be retiring in September of 2011. This gives me approximately 20 months to become Oprah-worthy. Also, I worry that other celebrities will want to hog Oprah, as they will no longer have a platform provided for them that combines self-improvement, undeserved fawning, and a-ha moments.
Plan: Several. The first and most appealing choice is to become so famous that Oprah herself will invite me and I will have the whole hour to sit comfortably across from her. I figure this will involve me taking on a high-profile acting job in a venture that will be seen by millions of people. For instance, I could appear in Sex & the City 2: Surf’s Up!, although I worry they might be finished filming already. I’m not opposed to coming down for re-shoots, though. I could play Carrie’s new best friend, who listens sympathetically, but occasionally throws out a snappy zinger the audience will be sure to love. Or I could play Mr. Big’s long lost son, Little Big. I would also appear in the Twilight franchise, if they asked me to, but that’s less appealing because then I’d probably have to read the books and they seem so lame, and I’d have to stay out of the sun to get that graying skin they favour so. I also have the option of becoming infamous to get my Oprah spot, but I’d probably have to murder or sleep with somebody or almost die myself. And I couldn’t just murder or sleep with just anybody, it would have to be someone high profile. Probably somebody in America. And I haven’t applied for a passport, so travel there would be difficult (memo to SATC 2 crew: my scenes must be shot in Canada). Lastly, I could write a book for her book club, but frankly, Oprah, you’ve seen my schedule, when am I supposed to fit a book in? Oh I could write it on the weekends, you say? Wrongo, I work then too! Use your head, it’s shift-work!
I don’t want to by Skyped in either, which she seems to favour lately. I want to be flown in to stay at the heart of Chicago’s Magnificent Mile. As for Skype, I don’t know if it’s the position of my computer, or the way my floppy neck skin hangs, but there seems to be no flattering angle to Skype me. I think Oprah would realize what she’s truly asking of people if she had to Skype herself in from home, without her camera crew and flattering angles and lenses.
Look, I’m not asking for special treatment here. Just the same treatment that is reserved for extremely special people. I just want Oprah to endorse me, to embrace me. Maybe I will read this essay for her and she will sit in the audience and mouth along in that annoying way she does with singers. It’s up to her, really. And when that hour is up, I will thank her truly, from the bottom of my heart, exit the stage door to a waiting car, waving to my non-ugly fans, where I will be whisked away to my fancy hotel to finally get some fucking sleep.