I’m Ready to be a Housewife

I am ready to leave the American workforce.

My two jobs, 7 days a week are finally getting to me, and this single gal is ready to throw in the towel.

I am growing weary of the first dates and the stress of the constant “will I ever get married” mantra scrolling through my brain [to be fair, it only flutters in a couple of times a month now, but for drama’s sake, we’ll say it happens every hour].

Let’s get this girl settled in a homestead, already!

Disclaimer: I know being a homemaker and a stay at home mom is hard work––I do. No. Really, I do! I was a full-time, live in nanny of three children under 5 in a former life. That’s like being a SAHM, minus the conjugal duties and the ability to make decisions about how the children should be raised (which is tough when you’re a primary caregiver).

So, I’ll add that I don’t JUST want to get hitched–I want to marry a billionaire. Because I think rich housewives have got it made. Screw the bachelor’s degree I am still paying off, I’m ready to be a woman of leisure And here’s how I’d live my life:

  1. After ensuring that my three full-time housekeepers have everything they need to scrub my house from top to bottom, I’ll pour myself a mimosa–giving orders takes a lot out of you. Don’t worry, I’m compensating them well above industry standard because I know how hard they’ll have to work to clean my mansion modeled after Windsor Castle.
  2. I’ll be the primary care-giver for my children because I won’t lose my maternal instinct and love for kids just because I’ve got piles and piles of filthy cash. However, I will have an army of nannies “on-call” just in case I need to go to the bathroom in peace (something almost impossible to do while watching an ankle biter) and eat a meal without someone asking me if they can have some. Beyond that, I’m homeschooling and raising my kids to be geniuses. I’ll spend a fortune on tutors to train my kids in Math (the hard kind), Classic and Modern Languages, Art, and Sudoku (because I am really bad at that). I’ll sip on champagne while they work. 
  3. Which car will I drive (Lamborghini or Maserati?) to take a luxuriant trip to the public library? I know, not everyone fantasizes about spending time among stacks of moldy books, but I can’t imagine that gaining money will automatically change my abhorrence of shopping and spas. I’ll treat myself to a glass of wine in those hallowed halls. Everyone’s gotta “Treat Yo’Self” once in a while.
  4. Speaking of “Treat Yo’Self”, I will have every television, one per room, set to loop episodes of the hit NBC show, Parks and Recreation. That show is my Reason for Life and if it ever gets cancelled…I don’t even want to think about it. Hopefully, it doesn’t get cancelled before I’m rich. When I have briefcases full of greenbacks, I will pay NBC to continue airing it indefinitely. And by “indefinitely” I mean FOR ALL ETERNITY.
  5. I’d give half of my wealth to charity–but only for the tax write-off. That’s just standard protocol for people that have stupid amounts of money. But, HEY, I’m giving to charity! I’ll toast them with a glass of port (because apparently, my mental imagery of the incredibly wealthy also coincides with people who have issues with alcohol).
  6. I’d buy a fleet of horses, but never ride them, as I’m terrified of getting thrown (even though I did take a couple of lessons in western riding–never fully conquered that fear). It’s just a known fact that rich people have an impressive collection of animals and such. Maybe I’ll trade in the horses for white siberian tigers. Well, maybe not, we saw how that worked out for Siegfried and Roy.

What’s that, you ask? What about my husband? Well, obviously, he’d be my love slave and give me whatever I want, and always agree with me, and not care that I don’t like to shave and never lost the ‘baby weight’. Because as long as I’m in this fantasy world, I’m goin’ all out.

A perfect example of a "Desperate Housewife" | Photo Credit: Mummy-Mayhem.com

A perfect example of a “Desperate Housewife” | Photo Credit: Mummy-Mayhem.com

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You Know You’re at an LA Oscar Party When…

Did you know that something called “Oscar Traffic” exists in Hollywood?

It’s something to be avoided at all costs, I might mention.

I spent my first Oscar Night in Los Angeles in the company of some great friends, many of who also happen to be collaborating with me on my SAG New Media webseries [we got the green light a few weeks ago…finally!].

And let me tell you, LA Oscar parties ain’t your Grandma’s Oscar parties (unless your Grandma is Helen Mirren or Judi Dench–in which case, I retract my statement and would really like an invite to that party next year).

Here is the recipe for an absolutely amazing LA Academy Award showing hosted in the city where it all happens:

Step 1: Pre-game. And by “pre-game” I mean formulate an algorithm that each of your guests fills out according to who they think will win each Oscar. Each participant must submit their ballot prior to arriving or risk disqualification from the operation. Optional “guest” participants should also be included at this time (cough, cough, Nate Silver).

Step 2: Have everybody choose one food/beverage item to bring for a potluck because everyone will be too busy researching their ballot choices to spend too much time on brining more than one item. Some people do go above and beyond and bring two items (moi, I had the rum and the wine covered because I am a classy lady).

Step 3: When arriving at the designated house for viewing, walk through the door and remark: “MAN! I can’t believe Highland was backed up all the way to Santa Monica” or “UGH,  Hollywood BLVD is a cluster-of-evil at the moment–I had to take an alternate route”.

Step 4: No one comment on the actual outfits worn by any of the celebrities. Instead, take the time to recall past accolades of all the nominees. Guest 1 will fondly remember the time they collaborated with the Director of “So and So” on a project and Guest 2 will bring up the fact that they were a featured extra on “This and That” with the Nominee favored to win that category. This is Hollywood, after all, and there are truly only 6 degrees of separation from one project to the next.

Step 5: Feel the personal triumph when your pick for each category graces the stage for their acceptance speeches. Or, if you’re really bad at guessing (moi) wallow in self-pity because most of your picks were incorrect. Then, glow with the fire of a thousand suns when Jennifer Lawrence wins “Best Actress” because her elegant fall up the stairs made her even more endearing than she was before. Can’t wait to be her best friend (IT WILL HAPPEN.).

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Click to check out the AWESOME buzzfeed article on my Future Biffle’s elegant trip.

Coming Out of the Closet

Ellen did it on her sitcom.

Anderson Cooper did it in an email.

It’s only appropriate that I do it on my blog–something that’s been a constant comfort for me for years.

I am proud to say that last week, while talking with my boss in her office–I came out…as an actress.

I know, I know, it’s a completely different closet, not as significant as people coming out about their sexuality, but level with me here. I’ll attempt to explain why it was just as moving and empowering for me personally.

From the moment I stepped off of I-40 and into the City of Angels, I was branded with one of the worst stigmas imaginable in this town:

ACTOR.

Since this is the Movie Capital of the World, it’s only natural that anyone interested in joining the prestigious and ofttimes lucrative industry would flock here.

Unfortunately, there are no benchmarks or qualifications assigned to bearing the title of “actor”–anyone can say that they are one, and, in fact, a lot of people who have never stepped in front of a camera or graced the stage do.

In short, we’ve got a bunch of flakes running around this town setting a bad reputation for people who are serious about pursuing this profession. Calling out of work for silly reasons, unfocused and idealistic, this type of actor is even worse than the worst hipster. Double suck-points if they’re a ‘flaky actor/hipster combo’.

Since my parents and extended family are not funding my dream chasing, I knew I had to find a “survival job” and becoming a waitress was something in which I had no interest. Every waiter and waitress in this town is an actor, and I’m not exaggerating. A lot of times, restaurants will require applicants to submit their headshots along with an application. Food service ain’t my thing, though.

I applied to quite a few childcare jobs, as that is another of my specialties, being completely honest and open about my career aspirations. Twice I was bluntly turned down from positions for the sole reason that I was interested in pursuing acting.

So, being the logical person that I am, I decided it was time for me to clam up about my true passion and find a job (also why I am attempting to blog anonomously)!

In essence, I was denying a very important part of my identity.

Now securely in the closet, I found work as a personal assistant, it’s got the perfect flexible schedule, and a way cool boss. And every day, for the past 5 months, I’ve lived in mortal terror that she would somehow find out my secret and ‘can’ me.

It sounds ridiculous but it’s not uncommon out here in LaLa Land. Yes, it’s discrimination, yes it’s unfair but it’s equally hard to prove in a court of law. They can always drum up other reasons to have terminated someone.

Any references to movies or TV shows that my boss made, I feigned ignorance:

No, I haven’t seen “Footloose” and I don’t even know what “The Godfather” is about. Oh, you spotted me as a background extra on Fox’s hit TV show New Girl? No comment.

No, literally, I awkwardly said nothing in response.

To my surprise, one day last week, completely out of the blue, my boss just came out and said “Do you want to be an actress?”

“Yes.”

“That’s totally okay with me,” she replied.

A 3,000 pound weight magically lifted from my shoulders.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I honestly thought you’d fire me if you found out.”

“No,” she responded assuredly, “I completely support you.”

We went on to have an incredibly life-affirming conversation that I consider one of the single happiest moments of my time here in LA. I’m going to keep the details to myself, something shared only between me and my boss, because I’m admittedly pretty selfish.

But it was just what I needed to feel comfortable in my own skin and to proudly and confidently declare: I AM AN ACTOR.