The Oscars. A night of glamor, glitter, and gushing gratitude. Yes, I am one of those people who records the entire 3 hour event--Red Carpet included, of course--and relishes one sitting to watch the massive production with all the commercial-skipping and dress-pausing action I like. I am a Star-stalker.
You know that obnoxious girl at the front of the line in the grocery store who doesn't realize it's her turn because she is studying People magazine as though the cashier is giving a quiz at the end? It is me, it is me; I confess. I don't know why I find such useless and invasive information so entertaining. Not entertaining enough to actually buy my own copy and read it at home, just enough to annoy the grocery line and the occasional receiving nurse whom I cause to wait over Brangelina and the latest with their 6 kids.
Never mind my pointless habit, the purpose of this post is more closely related to the Oscars. You know, as a kid I always dreamed of being in movies; (who didn't, I guess, right?). The Wizard of Oz was the first movie I memorized by heart, undoubtedly inciting my imaginative self-dialogue and mini mind-productions. Seriously, my mom told me I used to dance down the aisles by myself and talk to the fruit as though they were my fellow actors. Ha, I say I dreamed of being an actress as a kid, but who am I kidding? I still dream that!
My problem (well, despite an agent and professional acting ability, I suppose) is the morality of Hollywood these days. After watching the Oscar-worthy heartwarming film clips and humble winning speeches, I'd really like to believe that Hollywood is a wholesome place to work, but we all know better than that. With just about more R-rated movies being made than G or PG combined, as well as the amount of sex, vulgarity, and let's just say liberal ideas infiltrating the majority of Hollywood pictures, I'm not so sure it's an environment I could or would choose to immerse myself in. Not to mention the superficial, worldly appearances actresses feel the need to acquire these days. Don't get me started... All in all, not a place for the religious, moderately conservative, twenty-something me.....Not right now anyway...
But not to fear! Alas, I have not given up on my dream entirely. No. I have cooked up a better plan than my 8 year old self had even considered. I don't want to be a part of Hollywood as a competitive 20 year old, no, but I could wow audiences as a 50 year old star....!? Couldn't I? I mean, they always need old people in movies and how many old people are in the acting business? (Don't answer that question.) And at 50, sure you probably still feel pressure to look Red-Carpet beautiful occasionally, but inevitably adorned with wrinkles and a naturally lower metabolism, the expectations are not nearly as high, certainly. Few roles would require nudity or sex-scenes at this age; besides, those few can still go to Demi Moore when she's 70, so I'm good.
It's settled. I'll live a "normal" life--career, marriage, kids, the whole shebang--then, in my early 50s, my very supportive husband will help me pursue my acting dream by moving us to California. I'll land a secondary role in a controversial (but appropriate) and/or inspiring film and be nominated for the Best Actress in a Supporting Role. I'll woo everyone with my life-experienced wit and charm and the Academy, Hollywood, and audiences world-wide will wonder where I have been for 50 years. My acting career will be made whilst bypassing the grunt of stardom. Fabulous.
Look for me at the Oscars in 30 years or so. I'll be the older lady...first time nominee...a starstruck star herself...wearing Louis Vuitton, thanks for asking.
