Why I Could Never Be a Celebrity

First off, there's my complete lack of marketable talents. Hang on...scratch that. Lack of talent doesn't seem to be an issue.

So, starting over: I don't wear makeup, so I'd be in that "Stars--They're Just Like Us!" column all the damn time. Also, I have weird random "beauty" issues, like one lock of hair that insists on sticking straight up for a whole day, or a random crazy eyebrow hair that I don't notice for a whole week. Perfect example--since I'm currently afflicted with The Pestilence and going through tissues like they're Cheetos & cigarettes and I'm Britney Spears, my nose is peeling. WTF, I ask you? WTF? So today, every time I blew my nose, I had to hide in the bathroom and put lotion on my nose so that nobody saw me walking around looking like a damn leper. I would be the easiest mark EVER for the paparazzi, I'm telling you.

I also tend to have non-critical but still-spazzy wardrobe malfunctions that are fine for an ordinary person, but hilarious when they happen to celebrities. Today, my tank top strap kept migrating out into the open, even though it was meant to stay hidden under the neckline of my top. What would the Go Fug Yourself Girls say? Even better, last week I went from the bathroom to my office to the front desk to my car to the GP's office across town, then from the car across the parking lot and halfway up the (thankfully enclosed) stairwell before I realized my pants were buttoned but not zipped. Jesus. I'd need a handler 24 / 7 to even masquerade as a relatively put-together adult, were I a celebrity.

Finally, I wear underwear all the time if I'm out-of-doors or moving through out-of-doors on my way between, say, a car and another indoor location. ALL THE TIME, LINDSAY. KNICKERS EVERY DAY, BRITNEY. I wouldn't be very dramariffic, which would mean that I'd have to rely on my talents to get noticed...and I don't have 'em. I also have a very low probability of having a public meltdown in which I do anything utterly ridiculous, like shave my own head or go out partying with Paris Hilton. Somehow, I think the tradeoff is worth it.




Reading: The Harp of the Grey Rose by Charles De Lint and Gorgon:  Paleontology, Obsession, and the Greatest Catastrophe in Earth's History by Peter D. Ward


Playing: Light Grenades by Incubus