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10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Four

This morning, as I was walking to work, I was listening to one of the greatest tunes of all time — “Rock Steady” by The Whispers.  As my mind drifted into the abyss, I began to imagine a world in which I could be part of my own real-life musical.  I imagined the music of my iPod being ported by DC government into the downtown streets; pedestrians dancing; commuters exiting their vehicles and dancing in sync to the beat.  I imagined hoards of individuals rising out of the depths of the Metro tunnels in a single-file STOMP-like line — stamping their feet, banging their briefcases, clicking their stilettos, and spinning their umbrellas in unison.  I envisioned the otherwise nasty pigeons and blackbirds circling the scene and showering the outdoors with pink and white cherry blossoms being dropped from their little talons.  I saw the barristas at Starbucks exit their posts into the sidewalks, twirling and causing their green aprons to swing upwards as if they were extras in the Sound of Music — while the bike messengers outside Starbucks did wheelies around said barristas and the newsboys dropped down into a fit of breakdancing.

Then, I was abruptly brought back into the real world as some jackass failed to yield and almost nailed me as I walked across the street toward a gigantic glowing sign displaying a flashing walking man.

I don’t know if Tina Fey can sing, but hell, it’d be funnier if she can’t.  With Jane Krakowski on that cast, I think it’s damn well time for 30 Rock to have a musical episode.  It worked for Buffy, with Once More, With Feeling, and it can work for 30 Rock.  And if Tina Fey can’t sing, she should just focus on moving her lips, and allowing the producers to find a substitute singer.  Hell, it worked for Milli Vanilli, Britney Spears, and the American Idol group songs — why can’t it work for Tina?

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 Days for Tina Fey – Day Ten

Today is day ten of my 10 Days for Tina Fey series.  On this final day of my series, I regret to inform my six readers (7 including my hubby – thanks hubby!) that Tina Fey has not yet contacted me.  I also failed to procure commercial time during last night’s Super Bowl, so perhaps I only have myself to blame for Ms. Fey’s ignorance of my existence.  Although, in retrospect, I suppose it might be a good thing that my commercial did not air as even my hubby was kind of grossed out by my unique movements, as evidenced by his utterances of “Oh god” and “What the hell is that?”

I suppose I should first congratulate the Pittsburgh Steelers for winning the Super Bowl.  It was a rather exciting game, but I must admit that I spent the game playing Pictionary Man (badly) and doing a read-through of my spec script with the hubby, AG, and ML.  Thankfully, my friends and my hubby laughed at the script, although I suppose I can never be sure if the laughter is from the comedic value of the script or is instead from the comedic value of my pathetic attempt (you can never know with lawyers).

In what technically is my last plea to Tina Fey, I figured that perhaps Tina Fey would like to know the sources of my inspiration.  Or, put into the words of some of my friends, what is it that makes my brain work in such a mysterious and often inappropriate way?

  • My childhood — Growing up as the youngest child in an immigrant family, my life was just hilarious.  Did you know that, just like in English, there are multiple ways to say “dumb-ass” in Mandarin Chinese, but in Chinese, “dumb-ass” really sounds like “dumb-ass?”  Were you aware that the spirits of dead ancestors always know if you achieve only an “A-” or take on a useless minor in college like philosophy?  Or that you can buy hundreds of items in Chinatown that will prevent any inch of your skin coming into direct contact with sunlight?
  • My job — The law is a comedic minefield.  Or maybe that’s just me.  There was that one meeting during which I fell over laughing and recovered only to find that everyone was just staring at me as if I was inappropriate or something.  Whatever.
  • My friends — At last count, I have 94 friends on Facebook.  Frankly, I never thought I would even achieve 50 friends, but I suppose I should have kept that pathetic fact to myself.  Anyways, my friends are great sources of comedic material and also great at providing constructive criticism where appropriate.  My hubby, for example, will yank out a hair when I tell a bad joke.  For those of you who saw me in the summer of ’07, you’ll know that I was not particularly funny that year.
  • Tina Fey — But of course!  In fact, Tina Fey is such the inspiration, that I’ve already begun preparing this year’s Halloween costume.  I plan to be “Tina Fey as Amy Poehler doing the Palin rap in Alaskan mom jeans.”  Yeah, my hubby thinks it can’t be done either.  Always the downer, he asked me the other day, “How do you fit mom jeans around an 8-month womb?”  Whatever.

My script is complete and ready to be produced!  Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 Days for Tina Fey — Day Six

Last night, my hubby mentioned that I may be getting obsessed with this whole 10 Days for Tina Fey campaign.  Curiously, I found myself feeling flattered by what obviously was not intended to be a compliment.  I quickly whisked myself away in a dream sequence, during which I imagined my first meeting with Tina Fey.  Complete with my own original soundtrack, I found myself creating my own (hopefully to be based on reality) script.  WordPress doesn’t allow proper formatting, but here is my best attempt at recreating the dream sequence that brought me unadulterated happiness:

EXT. JFK AIRPORT – MORNING

ALEXIS (29), unprepared for the bitter northeast cold, shivers in her suit as she flags down a New York City Taxicab.  A cab careens around the corner and Alexis throws her bag into the trunk and climbs in, sitting squarely on a piece of hot pink bubblegum left by the last passenger.  The cab is filled with rave music and the DRIVER (50s) moves to the beat like an epileptic chicken on acid.

DRIVER

Where ya going?

Alexis attempts to peel the bubblegum off her ass.

ALEXIS

30 Rock studios please.   I’m a writer.  I’m meeting Tina Fey.

DRIVER

Sure you are.

The driver pulls out of JFK and turns the music louder.  Alexis gives up on the bubblegum and pulls out a cheat sheet of topics to discuss with Tina Fey, labeled MY ONE SHOT AT ETERNAL BLISS.  She holds it close to her heart and sways in glee.  The driver sways the cab to the beat of the music, causing Alexis to suddenly feel sick.

ALEXIS

Do you think you could slow down a little?  I’m feeling a little sick.

DRIVER

It’s Manhattan, baby.  There ain’t no slow in Manhattan.  (beat)  You know, I’ve driven Tina Fey before.

ALEXIS

Really???  Oh my god!  Is she fabulous??!  Of course she’s fabulous.  What the hell was I thinking?

DRIVER

She was a good tipper.  She tipped me 50%.

ALEXIS

Really?

DRIVER

Yeah.  I think she only hires writers that tip 50%.

ALEXIS

You know, that’s so like her.  Thanks for the tip . . . do you like how I did that?  “Tip?”

DRIVER

Yeah.  You’re a real hoot.  You’ll totally get the gig.

The cab finally pulls up to the 30 Rock studios.  Alexis exits the vehicle, giving the driver a $100 bill.

ALEXIS

Keep the change.  I wouldn’t want to disappoint Tina!

DRIVER

Yeah lady.  I’ll put in a good word for you next time I drive her.

The driver pulls away as Alexis attempts to pull out her business card.  Unfazed, Alexis turns and looks at the 30 Rock studios, sighing in happiness and relief.  She looks down one last time at her cheat sheet and returns it to her brand-new satchel in which she had forgotten to remove the price tag.

INT. 30 ROCK STUDIOS LOBBY – LATER

Alexis walks into the lobby and approaches the front desk.  A YOUNG MAN (20s) sits behind the counter, chained to a telephone with a headset.  He sticks a finger at Alexis, signaling her to wait until his call ended.

YOUNG MAN

You hang up first.  No, you hang up first!  I have to go — a wannabe writer is here.  You hang up first!  Ok, I’ll do it!

The young man pretends to hang up by being completely silent.

ALEXIS

Hi —

The young man shushes Alexis with his hand, perturbed by her interruption.

YOUNG MAN

Ok!  You caught me!  I’ll hang up.

He hangs up and turns to Alexis, obviously irritated.

YOUNG MAN

Can I help you?

ALEXIS

Yes.  I have a 10:30 appointment with Ms. Tina Fey.

YOUNG MAN

What’s your name?

ALEXIS NECTAR

Alexis Nectar.

YOUNG MAN

That’s a hell of a name.  You must be real fun.  Go up the elevators to the 10th floor.  Ms. Fey is waiting for you.

Alexis walks down the hallway, enters an elevator, and presses 10.  As the elevator doors close, JANE KRAKOWSKI jumps in at the last second.  Alexis is stunned at her good fortune, and immediately begins to sweat and fidget profusely.

JANE

Whoa!  Almost missed this one!

ALEXIS

Uh, yeah!

Alexis laughs hysterically and moves to the front of the elevator, turning to face Jane.

ALEXIS

You know, I heard on Oprah that the best place to stand in an elevator if you’re alone with one other person is in the front, turned around staring at the other person in the elevator.  That way, you can’t get assaulted because you’re so close to the buttons and because you can make eye contact with the other person.

JANE

Um, yeah.  I hadn’t heard of that.  Thanks for the tip.

Alexis and Jane ride up to the 10th floor in uncomfortable silence.  At the 10th floor, Alexis walks out of the elevator doors and approaches a desk with a sign stating “THE GREAT TINA FEY.”  Jane slips out of the elevator and quickly heads in a different direction.  Alexis approaches the YOUNG LADY (20s) sitting at the desk.

ALEXIS

Hi, I’m a writer.  I’m here to see Ms. Fey?

YOUNG LADY

You must be A-sex-less Nectar?

ALEXIS

It’s Alexis.

YOUNG LADY

Yeah, ok.  Just walk in.  Tina’s waiting for you.

Alexis takes a deep breath and places her hand on a necklace containing an “AN+ESF” pendant.

INT. TINA FEY’S OFFICE – LATER

Alexis opens the door to TINA FEY’S office, and sees Tina sitting behind her desk.  Portraits of Tina’s family and award statuettes litter the otherwise modest office.

TINA

Hi!  You must be Alexis.  Please, have a seat.

ALEXIS

Thanks!

Alexis is horrified that there are three empty chairs in Tina’s office.  With eyes darting from one chair to the next, she finally sits down on the chair closest to the door, and furthest away from Tina’s desk.

TINA

So I’ve read your blog, and I think the writing is actually very funny.  I would love to see your script.

ALEXIS

Yes.  I have it — in my bag — right here.

Alexis begins to pull out her script, and the price tag becomes visible to Tina.

TINA

You going to return that bag after this?  The old rent-a-prom-dress routine?

(looking at the price)

Although it looks like you got this for half off.  Nice work!

ALEXIS

(mortified)

Uh . . . here’s my script.

With shaky hands, Alexis gives Tina the script.

TINA

Thanks!  Why don’t I give this a read right now since you’re in town.  If you’d like, you can wait out in the lobby and I’ll come get you when I’m done?  Does that work for you?

ALEXIS

Yes ma’am.

TINA

Please, call me Tina.

ALEXIS

Uh, ok.  I’m going to wait outside now.

Alexis walks out the door, revealing the hot pink bubblegum on her rear.  Tina notices the gum and thinks that Alexis had sat on the bubblegum Tina left on the chair.

TINA

Oh my god.  I’m sorry!  Looks like you might have sat on some gum — right on your rear.

A mortified Alexis frantically attempts to pick off the last remnants of bubblegum from her behind.  Embarrassed, she throws up in her mouth and —

So my dream sequence didn’t go so well.  Hopefully, if the real thing happens, I’ll have a more pleasant ending.  For my sake and for Tina’s sake.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 Days for Tina Fey — Day Two

As I embark on Day Two of my crusade to locate Tina Fey, I have come to the realization that my desire to work for Tina Fey has permeated nearly every aspect of my otherwise dull life.  In fact, just yesterday, as I was sitting on the toilet, I began imagining what the toilets at 30 Rock studios look and feel like.  I wondered if a simple flush would trigger laughter.  If I would walk down the halls after using the facilities and see Jane Krakowski and Alec Baldwin splitting a bagel.  And as I sat down on the throne of my despair, I realized yet another position I could fulfill for Ms. Fey (in addition to writer, of course).

The idea dawned upon me as I embarked on my preparation of my public toilet seat.  As a female, use of the public toilet is quite the endeavor.  And the preparation begins even before you actually enter a stall.  First, you must assess the aroma of the entire restroom with a basic smell test.  If a single whiff, before entering the stall, would cause dry-heaving, one must make quickly decide whether said aroma could be endured on an exponentially worse basis — or whether holding your bodily fluids in search of another restroom would be the wiser choice.  Second, assuming the smell test has been passed, one must then embark on the stall search.  This involves quickly pushing open various stall doors to find a toilet that passes the vision test — namely a toilet that is filled with only water (small remnants of toilet paper will suffice in a pinch), with a relatively dry floor, a hopefully bone-dry toilet seat, and a supple, dry roll of toilet paper.  Once you have found this toilet, your work is not done.  Claim this stall by locking yourself in the stall, and then embark on step three, which is the hasty clean.

Why must you do the hasty clean, you ask?  Why not just drop down a toilet seat liner or line the seat with some toilet paper and drop your ass down like it’s hot?  Why take the time to conduct the hasty clean?  Well, there is absolutely nothing worse than the feeling of sitting on a toilet seat that you believe is dry, and then feeling the cold, unidentifiable and unknown moisture seep into your skin.  And if you’ve already started peeing as you collapsed down onto the seat, you not only have a wet ass, but by opening the pee dam, you risk peeing all over yourself should you decide to rise off of the seat to minimize additional contact with the unidentified fluids on the toilet seat.

This is where the hasty clean comes in.  The hasty clean involves grabbing a large wad of toilet paper and wiping the actual seat, making sure to wipe not only the top of the seat, but also the outer and inner rings.  Amateur hasty-wipers will often forget about these outer and inner rings of death, but these rings are incredibly deceptive.  Imagine walking into a stall, completing a half-assed hasty clean without sweeping the outer and inner rings.  You set down a clean toilet seat liner.  Believing with all your heart and soul that you will be sitting down onto a dry seat, with a liner separating your bare ass cheeks from the microscopic bacteria on the toilet, you plop your ass down with full confidence — a 100% plop.  Next thing you know, the moisture from the outer and inner rings has quickly dampened the toilet seat liner, and your ass is being completely saturated with what is likely toilet backsplash that had formed small droplets on the inner ring.

What is the point of this post, you ask?  Well, being an expert in the search, location, and preparation of public toilet seats, I could be of great use to Tina Fey.  Imagine the amount of time that Ms. Fey could save by having someone complete all the aforementioned tasks for her, each and every time she needs to use the facilities?  Indeed, with my assistance, Ms. Fey could also increase her fluid intake, for there would be far fewer reasons to avoid relieving herself.  By increasing her fluid intake, Ms. Fey will also become a healthier individual, and the benefits of her health will radiate to her family and her staff, creating a sanitation halo effect.  I clean a toilet — everyone is happy.

My 30 Rock script is complete.  Discover me, Tina Fey!

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