If I’m honest, I do think I just came out of hibernation.
I am a creature of habit. I don’t love that about me, but sometimes the truth hurts. Or sucks. The big one.
I’ve been thrown off kilter for the last couple of weeks and am finally getting my groove back.
(Stella…I am not, however.)
Between the trip to Abilene then a trip back home for a funeral of a friend entirely too young to leave us…I’ve been scrambling.
(And yes. 43 is entirely too young to leave a husband of 20+ years and a 15 year old son. And loads of friends. And tons of co-workers. And a family of love. Too young.)
I figure here is the best place as any to announce my possible leap to stardom.
OK. Maybe not a leap.
(Cause really, I’m too old to leap for anything.)
(And you know me way too well to even think I’d leap at anything.)
(Other than maybe a rich man with a bad heart.)
(But that’s another post altogether.)
(And well, there’s the boobs, too.)
Diane, that friend who wanted to hear nothing about my new pretty bras and bountiful bustline? Yeah. She likes me no matter what she might say otherwise.
She called me the other day in her monotone twang and said, “We’re going to The X-Factor live taping next Thursday. Wear something bright and fancy. And act your age for once. And don’t even think about getting close to the stage. And you’re keeping your top on. And my husband will not bail you out this time.”
She then hung up.
(OK. Maybe I threw in some of that…but she was totally thinking it, I’m certain.)
Yes. I will be in the audience for the LIVE taping of The X-Factor. I sho’ will.
(You should really wish to be me right now.)
(OK…I take that back. I’m having some seriously suck-ass bad hair days so really, don’t wish to be me until after Friday. When I get this wig back under control.)
Anyway, because I’m not as hip as I tend to let others believe…I had to Google it.
I mean, I know Simon Cowell is the lead dude but I wanted to know who else I’d be gracing with my presence.
(You probably already are. Who reads this shit standing up?)
Who did I find would be there? In the same room with me?
(Besides Diane, of course.)
(And several kadillion screaming fans.)
(Not my fans. The X-Factor fans.)
Now this might not totally excite you enough to squeal like the 3rd grade girl who just got kissed by the cute little boy in the cafeteria after she gave him her roll, but it did me.
(And yes. That roll-giveaway tactic always got me some action.)
(Though it no longer works.)
(Just trust me.)
(It’s kinda creepy now.)
My nieces are dying. Demi Lovato. Apparently she is someone I need to know more about. But really, it’s kinda fun to call the younger niece and when she answers say nothing but, “Demi Lovato” and then hang up.
And not answer when she calls back.
Squealing me a voicemail.
(I love terror.)
I know me some Britney.
And yeah. Ol’Britney has had her share of el-problem-os. But haven’t we all?
I mean, who hasn’t shaved their head? Who hasn’t been out partying with their hoo-hoo shining? Who hasn’t married some random dude from their high school in Vegas only to divorce him minutes later?
That’s what I thought.
Which is why I forever say DON’T JUDGE. We’ve all been there.
Right? Haven’t “we?”
Remember how I’ve said in the past I get to the office and one of the fabulous people in my life has left me a little surprise?
For no reason?
It happened again.
I’m in love.
Remember how Diane was rather strict and demanding that I “Wear something bright and fancy” to this gig Thursday night?
These were on my desk. And I’m wearing them.
Cause they’re “bright and fancy.”
So, should you not hear from me after Thursday night it can only mean a few things:
1. I’ve been discovered.
(For what? No friggin clue.)
2. A rich man with a bad heart was there and I leapt.
(Odds are that ain’t gonna happen…but so what.)
3. Britney needed a back-up dancer and I happen to be close to the stage.
(I have the rhythm of a 43 year old white girl. Let’s not touch that.)
3. Diane couldn’t take it anymore and jammed my glasses down my throat.
(Could. Totally. Happen.)