Tuesday, January 11, 2005 Cara u star
The company that most recently provide my household with pizza uses boxes made by a company called "Caraustar", so every time there's a discarded pizza box lying around belly up, I feel like I should be wearing a discreet tiara or dodging photographers. I am from Virginia, where everyone has vanity license plates, so I'm prepared to find secret messages everywhere. Still, I cleaned our box garden out of the back yard the other day, and removed the Christmas lights. I left all the indoor tinsel where we flang it, though. It adds a touch of class, and I am lazy as hell.
Stardom has been weighing on my mind lately: I am so damn sick of not being famous. Luckily, I got a musical instrument the other day, and tonight I learned to play one of my all-time favorite songs, "Shave and a haircut (two bits)". By next summer, it will be time to tour Japan, I'm sure of it.
Tomorrow I work all day at the hair place, like a commoner, and I don't guess any talent scouts are going to come in at all. The closest we get to that is a stray progressive or two "keeping it real" out among the regular people. I can tell them by their sincere buttons and their handwoven apparel, by their earnest looks and tendency to be inappropriately caring. "How are you?" they ask me, and I say, "Fine thanks. How are you today." Then I hold my breath, because I'm always afraid one of them is going to follow up with "No, really: how are you?"
I don't know what I'd do.
Swear, maybe.
posted by Frenz | 1/11/2005 01:42:00 AM
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