I decided to write this blog post with Wonder-Pen, to see how well it translates into WordPress. So far, it's worked really well in Microsoft Word... it just capitalizes k's and w's in the middle of my sentences. I'm working on making my lowercase w's more loopy, and we'll see how that goes. I have no idea how to fix my k's--I guess I'll simply have to stop using them. Thank you all for the comments on my last post. I promise it Was not just a desperate plea for compliments. But hey, I won't turn them down. You see, I place my self worth in the hands of others. Very healthy.
For anyone wondering about my second reason for becoming hot, this is it. Recently I've developed interest in working as a "background actor" (i.e "extra") in a television show. Don't ask me why. Anyway, this dream seemed likely to go unfulfilled, until the other day, when it occurred to me that I'd soon be in Los Angeles, where stars are born!
In a couple of weeks, I'm going to the SCBWI LA conference, an annual event for Writers to hear famous authors speak, meet agents and editors, and most importantly, mingle with each other. When exactly I'd have time to be an extra during this jam-packed event is beside the point.
I found out that the only show (auditioning extras) filming anywhere close to my hotel was the ABC Family series Greek. I've never actually seen this program, but judging from the posting I read, it appears to be an in-depth look at the often misunderstood World of college sororities and fraternities.
To be an extra on Greek one must be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four (which technically already put me out of the running, but since I'm mistaken for a teen all the time I was willing to keep reading). Also, one must be hot. I am not substituting my own word here, it read: ''Between 18-24, hot," on the notice. Also, to audition, you needed to show up to get your picture taken wearing "hot, trendy clothes." Again with the hot!
By now I realized that even if I was to become hot and acquire a hot wardrobe by August 7, there was no way I could devote the time to this endeavor that it so obviously required. I mean, I could, but then I'd miss the conference. And if, by chance, anyone missed me, and asked my friends, "Hey, where's that one girl in your clique?," I'd have to put my peeps in the awkward position of saying: "She's trying to become hot enough to stand in the background of a make-believe frat party."
And friends don't make friends say that. Ever.
Me, in my idea of hot, trendy clothes.