Adventures of the Struggling Writer — Resolutions

In the interest of all that is expected, herein lie my New Year’s Resolutions.  I know what you all are thinking (all two of you, including hubby) . . . her New Year’s resolution is to be discovered by Tina Fey and NPH.  Wah wah wah.  Alas, while that is a resolution I hold near and dear to my heart, it frankly will not be on this list, because that is not a resolution, but in fact the meaning of my very existence.  I consider New Year’s Resolutions to involve tasks and goals that you desire, but you also consciously or subconsciously know that you will likely give up on said tasks and goals by March at the latest, January 2 at the earliest.  So drum roll please . . . below, I present my list of resolutions I plan on breaking by March of 2010.

1. Traveling to Queens and Standing Outside of the 30 Rock Studios for 30 Hours Wearing Nothing but 30 Intricately Placed Diamonds:  Technically, I understand that this task sounds like a “Discover me, Tina Fey” task.  But I had to recategorize this task as a resolution when I realized that the procurement of 30 adequately-sized diamonds would not be realizable, especially since the hubby and I failed to win at our last Super Lotto attempt.  Therefore, it becomes a resolution, and I plan on easily breaking this resolution by January 2.
2. Undergoing Extensive Plastic Surgery In Order to Look Like David Burtka:  For those of you who don’t know, NPH’s boyfriend is David Burtka.  For those of you who know me, I don’t look like David Burtka.  However, if indeed I looked like David Burtka, I could perhaps position myself outside of NPH’s home—watering the plants, for example—and NPH could mistaken me for his boyfriend, ask me whether I wanted to have the leftover lamb vindaloo for dinner or go out instead, and I would respond by providing him with my script and running away as the real David Burtka stumbles out of the shed in which he accidentally locked himself into.  Given that I need only find a qualified plastic surgeon who would be willing to engage in such pro bono work, I give this resolution until March 15.
3. Not Exercising:  I like to think outside of the box and adopt resolutions that make me one-of-a-kind.  Being a fitness fanatic, I resolve to sit on my ass and remain as immobilized as possible so my buttocks can expand and engulf the remainder of my body, giving a whole new meaning to the word, “asshole.”  Who am I kidding?  I give this resolution until 9am on January 1.
4. Become a Choreographer and Join Nappy Tabs:  Once I accomplish this goal of becoming a choreographer specializing in general hip hop and that subset of hip hop called lyrical hip hop (which, as I’ve been told, does not actually exist), I will join Nappy Tabs, and we will create a new choreography trio called Nectarized Nappy Tabs.  We will take SYTYCD by storm, to the point where each and every dance of each and every episode will be choreographed by us, and I will reap said financial rewards from this endeavor and reinvest those monies into finally being discovered by Tina Fey & NPH.

For my three readers, may all your New Year’s Resolutions be as attainable as mine.  May you bask in the shame of your resolution failures, and may your outlandish delusions of fame and fortune overtake your already-eroding concept of reality.  Happy New Year folks!

Discover me, Tina Fey & NPH!!!

Adventures of the Struggling Writer — Day 5

My quest to meet Tina Fey & NPH has taken me to the four corners of this Earth, so to speak.  I’ve attempted to place myself in positions that would enable me to “accidentally” run into these two saviors of comedy.  To quote the hubby, it’s not “stalking” . . . it’s “strategic networking.”  That’ll be my primary defense should I find myself handcuffed in the back of a black and white vehicle in front of NPH’s southern California pad as the cops confiscate my binoculars.  Because my script is so awesome, I won’t let them get their paws on that—see my inspiration below.

Last week, as part of my strategic networking plan, I headed over to Macy’s in downtown San Francisco to assist the SPCA with adoptions of dogs and cats.  Every year, during the holidays when people are overwhelmed by the haze of egg nog and David Archuleta’s Christmas album, the SPCA sets up window displays of adoptable animals at Macy’s.  I figured, on the off chance that Tina Fey or NPH have decided to visit San Francisco, they’d likely visit Union Square, and by assisting with the collection of donations, I would have a surefire way of being within 20 yards of my targets (I wonder what the average restraining order prescribes as a safe distance?).  So, with my collection jar in hand, an SPCA jacket on my back, and a friendly unassuming smile, I began my work.

Now, collecting donations in front of windows displaying kittens and a doggie is not that difficult, if you think about it.  The SPCA, however, helps you out by providing you with some simple instructions on how to encourage people to give.  Phrases like, “Gimme yo dough or the kitties be no mo” simply are not effective, as I was told with a wary eye.  They suggested something like, “Would you like to make a donation to the San Francisco SPCA?”  I found that line to be way too long and complicated, yielding in little money but instead leading to incessant questioning as to what “SPCA” stands for.  So, as a compromise between my catchy phrase and the party line, I decided to go with something along the lines of, “Would you like to make a donation to help these kittens find a real home?”  That worked pretty damn well, as I received plenty of singles, fives, ten-spots, and even a 20 in my two hours of volunteering.

I did not, however, manage to see Tina Fey or NPH.  However, I did accost approach each and every brunette woman donning glasses and ask for a donation, but none of them proved to be the target of my strategic networking.  At one point, I thought NPH had stormed in front of me screaming because he was so excited that he had finally been located by me, but alas, it was a somewhat crazy man telling all donators that they were going to hell for donating to dogs and not people.  As crazy man came near me, I quickly ingested my script, fearing that it was a ruse to get to my script of gold.  For days after, I payed dearly for that ingestion.  Will I ever find you, Tina Fey or NPH?  Hear my pleas.  Savor my devotion.

Discover me, Tina Fey & NPH!!!

Adventures of the Struggling Writer — Day 4

I have continued to brainstorm means by which I can attract the attention of Tina Fey and NPH.  While I continue in this successless endeavor, I have honed my skills as a writer by watching hours and hours of television and cinema.  On Friday, I joined legions of other moviegoers in watching “Avatar,” the movie about blue people.  And for my two readers—don’t worry, I will provide fair warning as to any spoilers in this post.

To be perfectly frank, I did not want to see Avatar.  The preview did not adequately inspire me to want to spend hard-earned cash to sit in a cramped movie theater, attempting to watch the film while holding my pee (and cursing myself for drinking that last Diet Coke), and trying desperately not to curse at the idiots who insist on talking on the phone or texting a friend (who often happens to be sitting right next to that wretched and rude individual).  How exciting could a movie about blue people be?  As a child, I had a voracious appetite for all things Smurfs, at one point deciding that I would become Mrs. Handy Smurf.  Perhaps the movie is like the Smurfs?  Lots of blue people, with a single blue female who, by necessity, is the town whore?  Or perhaps the color of the indigenous people in Avatar is more symbolic, reflecting some sort of underlying theme or meaning behind a film that otherwise superficially appears to be the consequence of providing $230 million in expendable cash to a boy who likes special effects?  In any event, suffice it to say that I was not expecting to enjoy this film.  Indeed, I was expecting to leave this film feeling like I had just earned enough goodwill to force the hubby to attend the next feature film based on a novel by Nicholas Sparks.

Alas—and here come the spoilers—I LOVED this movie.  Yes, folks, I love the Na’vi.  The film contained just the right mix of conflict, fantasy, and romance to make me, an originally skeptical participant, into a real believer.  I like to think that the film itself is a strange mash-up of “The Last Samurai,” “The Little Mermaid,” and “The Smurfs.”  You’ll understand what I mean if you watch the film.  Negatives of the film include some horribly-written one-liners—likely a reflection of how Cameron views military personnel as individuals who are forced to shed humanity in favor of barbarousness; and the casting of Giovanni Ribisi, whose cheeks are just a little too pinchable for a character who the viewer is supposed to despise.  Additionally, the climactic fight scene to the death lasts just a bit too long, with GI Joe refusing to just fall over and die, making the film a bit Michael Bay-esque.

After watching this film in 2D format, I now must return to the theater to watch the 3D IMAX spectacle.  Perhaps, in honor of the film, I will paint myself blue, sprout a tail, and grow a magical ponytail that will enable me to control mythical aerial creatures.  One can only dream.

Discover me, Tina Fey & NPH!

Just for shits and giggles, here’s a picture of a female Na’vi with a sexy Smurf.  I’m growling right now.

Image Link

Adventures of the Struggling Writer — Day Three

This weekend, I watched the film, Julie & Julia—primarily because it starred Meryl Streep and the chick from Enchanted.  I mean, Meryl Streep is like the most celebrated actor of all time.  She’s kind of like bacon.  If it’s got bacon, you know it’s gonna be good (except for that awful bacon dessert made by Kevin aka “the MIT guy” on Top Chef—can we say EW?).

I had no idea what to expect in watching the film, but I become quite envious of the Julie character (I was going to say spoiler alert, except it’s not a spoiler to state the complete obvious), because she effectively became rich and famous by blogging.  Julie earned her accolades by going through the Julia Child cookbook, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking,” and blogging about her attempts at accurately following the directions of the iconic American Frenchie, Julia Child.

So I’ve been inspired by Julie to continue in my pleas to Tina Fey and NPH who, to date, have yet to acknowledge my existence.  Although, in a moment of sheer insanity, I did believe that the most recent HIMYM contained NPH’s secret signals to me—you know, when he continually winked at the camera.  I was totally like, “Neil!  I see you!  I love you!  I will carry your lovechild!  I will travel to LA to find you and follow you in a totally legal and non-stalkerish fashion!”  I digress.

What can I, an attorney with outlandish dreams of eventually becoming an EGOT winner, possibly write about, on a consistent basis, that would yield in the achievement of my laughable fantasies?  I certainly don’t have the patience or wherewithal to cook from a fancy French cookbook every day (unless someone were to provide me with a substantial advance . . .).  I could write about my attempts at mimicking dance routines from SYTYCD, but such shenanigans cannot be adequately described in just words alone—just a couple weeks ago, I tried to complete at least 5 pirouettes in sequence and found that my body would effectively become frozen at about 3/4 of a pirouette, causing me to tumble to the floor in a heap of all that is not graceful.

Perhaps that, then, is why Tina and Neil have not discovered me.  I don’t have direction.  What shall I devote my blogging to in the upcoming days until my pending occupational nuptials with 30 Rock or HIMYM?

Screw it.  I like my current theme.  Discover me, Tina Fey & NPH!!!