I'm on lunch right now and what I've elected to do with my time is eat a giant sandwich and write about topic #41. Ideal co-stars. It took me approximately 52 minutes to consume said sandwich as it was VERY large, procured from Big Daddy's Pizza just across the street. Big Daddy's Pizza is the only place near (enough) work to get a decent lunch but it comes at a price and I don't mean monetarily. First, whatever you order requires tremendous upper body strength to schlepp overhead across a heavily trafficked Western Ave and into my building. Then, as all BD sandwiches are for some reason twice-wrapped and stuffed with manhands into the narrowest possible tube of a paper bag, it takes several minutes just to get to the sandwich. I realize it took me a couple of minutes just to tell you that so the latter part of my lunch hour into which I've elected to squeeze my blog entry for today has now become severely compromised. I have mere seconds to tell you what I think about "ideal co-stars" so here it is: if you're anything like me you spend the better part of each day wondering why the heck you aren't in a major motion picture of some kind right now. Not because my life is just that fascinating but moreso because whenever I see a movie and watch the actors at work I think, how hard can that be, really? Owen Wilson in Midnight in Paris sealed it for me. I can't imagine doing a worse job of bumbling through a Wood Allen script than he did, and even though I'm a chick and me playing that character would certainly change the story a bit, I feel like I could grow my hair out a little, punch myself in the nose, do two shots of Jameson and basically become Owen Wilson. No one would be the wiser. But my point is, I could easily be in a movie and so could you. If I were in a movie, I would want certain people flanking me to A.) make me look good and B.) whisper my lines to me when I get too drunk to remember and C.) hold anything I buy along the way because I hate carrying stuff. There are several Hollywood types that qualify for these positions - A.) Amy Poehler because she did it for Tina Fey and B.) that sexy black guy from Criminal Minds because it seems like he would be a good whisperer and C.) Sylvester Stallone because he can carry a lot of stuff and I would enjoy hearing him mumble about it in his slack-jawed, subtly bewildered way . Other candidates include: A.) Phyllis Diller (is she still around? If not, Joan Rivers. B.) Gilbert Gottfried C.) Kate Moss. The truth is, though, if I ever did make it in a movie about me starring me revolving around all things me, it would only make sense to co-star my real life peeps. Ideally, my mom for sure. Trouble with that is I'm fairly certain the movie, after a really catchy intro with me laughing and smiling gayly around the credits, would shift immediately to being about her. She is way more interesting due to being a "spongeface." A spongeface is someone who absorbs the sob stories of strangers in line at the grocery store, at a party, at a restaurant, etc. It's especially prevelant in situations that involve service people or frazzled mothers with all their kids (and several others they've magnetically attracted) hanging off them. My mother and my sister Tess are guilty of having kind faces and making way too much eye contact; hence, they invite epic confessions and surprising confidences from the oddest balls on the planet. I, too, inherited the sponge, but with a little more of my dad in me, I understand that with great power comes great responsibility and have learned to discourage small talk up front so the big talk never comes. Consequently, a movie about me might end quicker, but at least you know it's going to end. Put my Dad in it with me and you've got two characters sitting in an airport waiting for a flight saying nothing. Enter my Mom and sister, followed by two Hari Krishnas, a guy on a segue, a toddler pulling her own Barbie rollerboard, a pregnant teenager, an elderly couple each holding a small poodle, four Hispanic fellas and a widower.
Mom (to Dad): "Here's your sandwich."
Dad: "Who are all these people?" (takes a bite, looks around)
Mom: "Oh, they're on our flight."
(Tess accepts a poodle, hugs it and says something that makes the elderly couple laugh.)
Me: "You were only gone for 5 minutes."
Mom: "I'm worried about that pregnant girl. Should she be flying?"
(Walks toward pregnant teen.)
Me (to Dad): "Is that turkey?"
Dad (nods, says nothing)
Me (sits back, closes eyes, folds arms)
Hope you got popcorn. We might have a mini-series on our hands.
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