My Lee Norris Complex

So it’s officially been 7 months since I’ve graduated from my alma mater (the prestigious NYU Tisch School of the Arts, BFA in Drama, 3.8 GPA, with honors - of course) and as we roll into 2012 with gusto, I can’t help but take a look back and recount the year that was. Sure, 2011 dealt me a handful of ups, a smattering of downs, and a plethora of situations I really couldn’t give a shit about – but there was certainly one constant that stuck with me throughout the year, and continues to haunt me furthermore:

I am still not a celebrity.

Yes, it’s true. As I approach my 23^rd year on this planet, I still have not achieved the global domination I so desperately need. And I have absolutely no clue how this happened! Surely I have the acting prowess of a young Lawrence Olivier… John Barrymore… Keanu Reaves. Clearly I’m good looking enough to be a muse for any fashion photograher (let alone a certain Gil Ben-Simone. Where the fuck is my Covergirl cosmetics campaign and my contract with Elite Model Management? WHERE?!) So, as I sit here tonight, in my underwear, picking peanut butter puffins ever so delicately out of my golden forest of chest hair, I’ve come up with six reasons explaining how someone as majestic as I could still be among the plebeians. I give you:

6 reasons why I’m still not a celebrity:

How the 90s stole my childhood

If you're a glass half-empty kind of gal (and what girl who spent her adolescence resembling a frizzy q-tip with mosquito bites wouldn't be?) the bumpy road to adulthood was most likely wrought with disappointment. I'm not talking the extremely serious disappointment of finding out you'll have to wear braces to your senior prom...I mean little let downs that didn't seem to matter until you looked back at them in retrospect and thought "hum. That was a disappointing day." Having grown up in the 90s, disappointments ranged from Hey Dude! getting cancelled to realizing middle school boys weren't interested in the tall, nerdy"Jessie Spano" type.

Seeing as listing personal adolescent disappointments might hurt the feelings of former friends, heavily- closeted flames and acquaintances who just might read this blog, I've decided pop culture let downs, and the insecurities left in their wake would be a good way to close out the year. And so, without further ado, the five biggest (that I can think of right now) public let downs of my 27 years...

A Pauper's Christmas

Well. It’s the holidays. My poorest Christmas yet. Gone are the days when I can justify spending $60 on a decorative coffee table book because MAX JUST LOVES VANITY FAIR. No. This is a DIY, mod podge and craft glitter kind of Christmas. My Pinterest is on overload, I’ve gone through about 14 of those useless foam paintbrushes, and I’ve become more of a regular at Michael’s Craft Store than my local Thai restaurant.

I’ve also discovered that glitter is the herpes of crafting. It’s all over me. I shower, I change my clothes…months later, I’m still finding glitter in areas only drag queens find glitter. Drag queens and girls that shop at Rainbow/Tellos/any other store that sells cartoon-emblazoned ankle socks right next to the sluttiest dress you've ever seen.

Despite my sparkly venereal disease, I have discovered that with a little resourcefulness and glass etching cream, I can make some part sweet, part haphazard Christmas cheer worthy of its own Hillary Duff movie—once she’s done randomly being an adult and blowing her man in front of a window. WE CAN SEE YOU, LIZZIE. What would Gordo say?! (probably nothing because according to reliable sources, he's a low-level caterer and isn't really in a position to be throwing shade.)

While Max is dreaming of fighting over the last amuse bouche with Beyonce, my fantasies are of the Mickey Mouse as Bob Cratchit variety. Remember when he had to cut a SINGLE BEAN into fifths for his family to eat? On Christmas Eve, no less? Christmas is on a budget and it’s a jewy, jewy budget. A-list celebs and moose are simply out of the question, unfortunately. 

And so, here is who I'll be eating Ramen Noodles and Apple Jacks with this coming holiday:

My Fantasy Holiday Dinner

It’s that special time of the year again; the time for celebration, family, and good spirits. Christians are decorating their Christmas trees. Jews are polishing their menorahs. Black people are also decorating their Christmas trees (who celebrates Kwanzaa? Who? I want all that time spent learning about it in elementary school back.) Anyway, the holiday season is upon us and that means one thing: big holiday dinners. Accordingly, I've taken the time to create my ultimate fantasy dinner guest list and it goes a little something like this: