Recently I bragged that I was going to do this, and fulfill my destiny of becoming rich and famous.
I stand before you today, neither rich, nor famous, and with a slightly bruised and battered ego.
Here’s what I learned from my short-lived quest for fame.
10. I was not the only one to get the memo about this event, held at the Laguna Hills Kohls. Apparently, most of Orange County knew about these auditions; so did a sprinkling of folks from Chicago, Hong Kong, and Australia.
9. Everyone there thought they were the next big thing and ripe with talent. Everyone.
8. The weirdoes always get the interviews.
7. You can make friends with other funny, spontaneous, talented people while waiting in long lines, even though you’re competing against one another.
6. My husband loves me. And believes in me. Even when I don’t. That’s pretty rad.
5. The camera adds way more than ten pounds. More like 65.3 pounds to be precise.
4. Life: It’s all about Confidence, people.
3. I am not defined by a thirty second audition in front of an over-animated, visibly disinterested, slightly moody assistant producer and thirteen other wannabe television hosts.
2. Unless of course I make a lasting impression and am chosen for the show (which I didn’t and wasn’t).
1. The whole thing sort of made me feel dirty and cheap. We had to scream and wave and jump enthusiastically every time a giant camera on a crane came swinging by, which sucked for many reasons but mostly because every time I waved I could feel my arm fat jiggling back and forth and I just KNOW that out of all of the day’s footage, they’re going to somehow end up slow-mo-ing my giant, jiggling, waving arm for their promos. Eventually I just felt like an attention whore. Which is different when I actually am the center of attention at a small and intimate gathering with close family and friends who clearly love and appreciate my presence. In other words, I’m all about being the one getting all the laughs. On Saturday though, I was one out of thousands who was trying to get noticed by someone, anyone, and frankly, I don’t need that kind of validation…………..oh who am I kidding. I’m just bitter. If they had called me over and told me to stand on my head and spin flaming hula-hoops in alternating directions from my ankles, while wearing a faux rabbit fur bikini, I totally would have.
You just don’t say no to Oprah, people.
***By the way, Oprah, thanks for splurging on flushing porta-pottys!***