This just in: The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has announced the host for the next Oscar ceremony, and now I'm dying to bump up my 40th birthday dream by a few years and be a seat-filler at the next Oscars!!!
*sigh* If only it were even remotely possible. There's an application to be completed and submitted with a resume and head shot (so I'd be out of luck from that point on, anyhow - I mean, I'm still shocked they took me for Jeopardy! after the horrendous Polaroid the lady snapped of me at the audition, and Jeopardy! contestants are rarely beauty queens...) and then after all that, I'd have to be chosen out of all the other folks who want to seat-fill - and apparently some are actually professional seat-fillers, where I'm a mere amateur. (Not that I am not quite adept at filling seats, mind you. I can occupy space in a seated position with the best of 'em!) Considering that (a) I live on the wrong coast and (b) I have zero connections in the film industry, I doubt that I'd have a snowball's chance in Hawaii of making this dream come true.
Maybe I'll dress up in my most Oscar-worthy outfit while I fill the seat on my couch for this year's broadcast. Oh, who am I kidding? If I am not going to the Oscars, I'm not wedging myself into any sort of supportive undergarments - I'm watching on my couch (long distance on the phone with my BFF from her living room) in my jammies with a big bowl of popcorn.
It would be so cool, though... I've got three years and two days to work on this particular Midlife Crisis Crazy Scheme. Hopefully Hugh does a fantabulous job hosting this year (he certainly rocked when he hosted the Tony Awards!) and they continue to ask him back, 'til I can score some sort of miracle and get myself to Hollywood!
A girl can dream...