I'm Sorry to Say...

that I am not the Biggest Loser.

I don't think I prepared for something more in my life.  I don't think I could have been more positive about something.  After all, the Biggest Loser requires that you be really good at one thing and one thing alone. 

Being fat. 

I have been really fat for nearly 20 years.  I am a professional.  Before that...it was just a hobby.  Something to occupy the time. Apparently, I am not good enough at it for Hollywood.  Perhaps they are right because after 20 years...I am pretty sure that my goal is retirement.  I am not really interested in pursuing this line of business anymore.

I am not giving up though.  There is still the video submission.  After no sleep for OVER 24 hours, learning that some people will disappoint you (fail to support you) when you need them, and standing in line for over 6 hours with some of the most FABULOUS people to never be featured in  St. Louis Magazine...I am not quite ready to give up on the possibility.

Last time I stood in line like this for ANYTHING 1994 when I took a group of neighborhood kids to see Jodi Sweetin from Full House.  I left that with an autograph (I mean...I was there already, right?)  I left this...with a hole in my heart.  

It's ok.  I'll be fine.  I always find a way to be ok.

It was a group interview where you had to fight your way through a sea of other people to be the most unique and interesting.  It was hard to talk over the lady who was shouting about he employment with Busch family (as in the beer empire), especially since her sobriety status was in question (seriously).  I always attract the crazies like a magnet and this was no different.  She accused us of line jumping despite the 15 people in line before us that confirmed we were there and had been there the whole time. (the leg of one of our chairs somehow ended up on her towel).  We apologized, but there was no having it.  She became belligerent and sauntered off to her car where she grabbed a security guard and had a mental breakdown in the parking lot, screaming and crying (literally) about how WE were being mean to her.  When we were escorted into the mall to wait inside, she was broadcasting loudly that she was going to line jump us (despite the security guards assurances to her that she would not).  She was so busy running her mouth about it that she failed to notice we stopped walking and she ran into me full force.  I barely stayed on my feet, it was a hard hit.  She then complained that hitting me was like hitting a brick wall and continued to defame the character of myself and my sisters to the people lining up behind her.  In an effort to resolve my anger, I videotaped her stuffing a McDonald's breakfast sandwich into her pie hole.  hmmm...the next YouTube sensation?

I convinced myself that this was my ONLY option.  I convinced myself that because I wanted it, it was outside of my comfort zone, I have no job and nothing going on somehow meant that it was my destiny.  For the first time since I was laid off, I was hopeful. ABOUT SOMETHING, ABOUT ANYTHING.  I was too tired to wait impatiently for a callback.  I slept.  I NEEDED sleep. I woke up this morning and was able to come quietly to grips that I did not get a call. 

I WILL make the video.  I WILL submit it.  I MAY OR MAY NOT get a callback. 

I made a commitment on paper yesterday.  Signed, sealed, and delivered...I guaranteed that I could dedicate September through March 2012.  With or without Bob Harper.