I’m sure that you, like me, often think that my life would make a great reality TV show. Why Hollywood hasn’t called is beyond me. This week would have made for riveting television.
First of all, JD and I went to a high-falutin fundraiser Thursday night. We got all dolled up, JD in his sports coat and me in my $69.00 sequined dress from Macy’s. We pulled out ALL the stops. Good thing because as we pulled into the parking lot, a dude in a $250,000 Rolls Royce pulled in too. Obviously, we had found our people. The attendant checked us in and asked if we wanted a paddle for the auction later. Duh, how else would we bid on the 4 tickets to Stella McCartney fashion show in NY including round trip airfare? Estimated value $20,000? Can you put that on five different credit cards?
Normally, fancy shmancy fundraisers might be a little intimidating, but some genius had put a “mixologist” at the entrance and after a couple of visits, I was feeling like a high roller. While I didn’t win a trip to NY, I did eat everything in site, all in the name of helping a charity. I’m a giver.
Saturday night, JD and I went to Mantamy and Gregarious Greg’s house for a Lebanese Mezza. That’s where you sit outside and eat a bunch of really good Lebanese food with exotic names like “Baba Ghanouj” which despite what you might have thought, is NOT an middle-eastern cartoon character. No one arrived in a Rolls Royce, but I did sit across from an author who’d appeared on Fox News, so celebrity!
As we ate, the hosts went around the table and talked about each person, how they met, what they love about them, etc. Then the rest of us would chime in with what WE liked about the person, and on and on. If a television camera crew could have only captured all of the nice things said around the table, especially about ME, we would have had a hit on our hands. I would have watched it about eight times today alone.
Every reality show needs a little drama, which I provided Sunday on the tennis court. I didn’t HAVE to tell my partner we were “pathetic” and should never get on a court again. Or that we should “Fire UP or I was going to hit her so hard she’d still be feeling it next week”. She didn’t HAVE to get heat stroke and almost forfeit the game and we did NOT have to lose. We did it all for the ratings! These shows are totally scripted.
Next week on The Zolligirl show, a trip to the Fox Theater, working at the computer, and more drama on the tennis court. Maybe this weeks script will call for us to win for once.