Awards Shows

I spent last night babysitting. Between a robust game of dodgeball and trips to the bag of Trader Joe’s carmel popcorn that I “accidentally” opened, I watched the SAG awards. After about an hour I came to the tragic realization that I no longer care for awards shows. As a child and teenager, I lived for awards shows. And when I say “lived,” I mean I remained hopeful and alive because of the distinct possibility that if awards shows continued to exist and I continued to exist, a day might come when I too would win (or be nominated…same thing) for an award for something (God knows what…but it never really mattered, so long other people found it fabulous, and I seemed fabulous for winning it). We are all bestowed with the wondrous love encircling our tadalafil vs cialis view this cute-n-tiny.com life in this mesmerizing world. In these cases, again pills don’t cialis no prescription cheap work. Only luxury home, car and best cuisines are not enough in our life even, with the money and all the regrets cialis buy that come after repeated failures. Imagine it’s the 9th inning, the bases are discount tadalafil from canada loaded and one run can win the game for your team. Because THEN, all the crap that I endured, the divorce, the loneliness, etc., would somehow be redeemed. It was sort of my own personal, evangelical belief system, except I substituted the idea of Heaven, with a televised awards show and people clapping, and tears, and maudlin feelings for my mother, father, dentist, mailman, and kindergarten teacher…AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, everyone was watching. So, I had to be actress, or writer, or director, because after all, who watches awards shows for librarians or machinists? What chanel are those shows even on?

Last night I watched Hilary Swank proclaim Clint Eastwood to be the second coming, and while she’s beautiful and her job is cool and given the same set of circumstances I would probably say the same things, NONETHELESS, I’m grateful not to be in the awkward position of being raised above society so high that I have to projectile vomit praise and acclaim just to feel comfortable.

Just for today, I don’t have an award, and it’s OK.