I decided that I want to be discovered. I know. This sounds absolutely insane. But it is decided. That is what I want to with my life. I want to be discovered. I can go on Broadway and sing sad songs and learn how to dance and be told that I am wonderful. And after that I will become a famous playwright.
This implies so many tantalizing possibilities.
1- I don't have to hunt for a job! When your discovered, the job finds you. You just have to sit at some corner street cafe and look pretty. I can do that... Maybe.
2- I don't have to teach for the rest of my life.
3- I will have enough funds that I will never have to go to Wal-mart again. Enough said.
I explained this urge to David the other day. He attempted to satisfy me by making me stand next to a wall while he walked around the corner. Then he'd say, "You're perfect! You've been discovered." It made me smile.
Maybe I have had way too much Roadshow for the past month. That's the only way to explain this bizarre desire. If I am not thinking about student teaching, it's all about Roadshow. It's gotten to the point that yesterday at dinner I was talking about it yet again, and David said, "Do you remember that there was a time in our lives when we didn't talk about the Roadshow?" Sad. I can't remember.
I think I must have low self-esteem. I need other people to tell me that I am wonderful to feel valued.
This is a sad confession. I've always wanted to be a confidant, self-asserted individual. I don't want to have to rely on what other people say to feel good about myself. I just want to by myself. I probably wouldn't even like being a performer. The only thing I can play on a guitar is "Jet Plane" and the only play I've been in was Fiddler on the Roof. I was random mama Jew number 2.
So maybe being discovered isn't the answer. But it won't prevent me from sitting at a corner cafe for a few hours, just in case.
7 comments:
me too.
I have fond memories of a birthday when you and Shalese serenading me in my office with "Leaving on a Jet Plane." Sweet. Though I bit my lip to keep from grinning over the song. But when I found out it was the only song you knew, and you had given it to me as a birthday present, I thought it was GRAND. You gave me all you had. That's really big. How's the roadshow coming?
Yeah, what did you decided to do for the roadshow?
Decide, I mean.
I posted who won on the blog, but I don't think anyone noticed. I met with a youth committee who decided that they liked the American Idol idea of Anona's. So Anona is the winner! I still need your address Anona, so I can send you your prize. Thanks everyone for being willing to help.
Sorry Chan. I know how much you wanted to win.
Huzzah! I'm a winner!
I wish I could brag about being all in-tune with the youth of today, but the sad part is I'm actually operating on their level...I really like American Idol and other selective reality shows...Project Runway, anyone? I know they're formulaic, cliched, whatever, but that's why I watch. No intense drama, nothing legal, medical, criminal, etc. No thinking involved. That's why I go to school, right?
So if you're serious about the chocolate, Julie, (which I hope you are) you can send it to my parent's house at
3662 N. Piute Dr.
Provo, UT 84604
We're moving in two weeks to another part of town, so I don't want someone else to get it. I get the sense that you're crazy busy, so no rush. In fact, you could send it to me in July and it can double as a baby present.
p.s. Tell the high tech youth of today to post some clips of your show on Youtube or something once you're done. I want to see!
I'm tired of Anona winning everything. Geez. And heaven help you, Jewels, if you don't send the chocolate. There's a vitamin deficiency in the last months of pregnancy, which chocolate fixes (really). Anona, have you ever seen the film CHOCOLATE with Johnny Depp? Classic. You'd love it.
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