October 24, 2010
The Bottle Blonde But Still Ambitious Tour
The weather was lovely this past Sunday, as it often is in early October, and in an effort to get two stir-crazy boys (and two equally stir-crazy parents) out of the house, Jeff and I decided to make the drive down to the Seaside Heights boardwalk, the infamous home of the Jersey Shore crew. We’ve found if we’re willing to walk to both piers we can appease both boys with the ride selection (they’re discriminating customers), and everyone is ultimately happy. It was while walking back from the farthest pier, wondering whether or not we could chance the next one and escape the rain, that I looked up and saw the sign, nestled between yet another Kohr’s custard stand and the fifth millionth “Best Pizza Place” ever. It was a giant placard, as very little in this town is subtle, and it declared its message in huge, red capital letters, a combination of words that were difficult to miss. It read:
“SNOOKI SANDWICH SOLD HERE!”
I took a few more steps, felt the bile rise in my throat and tried to get to my “happy place”, which was conveniently located at the Kohr’s next door. There’s not much custard can’t solve for me.
After purchasing my usual vanilla with chocolate sprinkles concoction (I am so predictable), I walked back over to my husband and my boys. Jeff looked at me, took a slight step backwards, and said “Honey, there’s something I saw on Comcast this morning that I forgot to tell you about. Snooki has a book coming out in January.”
I looked up at him, asked him if he was messing with me, and if so, he should really rethink this choice if he ever wanted to be intimate with me again. He returned my gaze, took a deep breath, and said “Nope, it’s true. It’s called A Shore Thing. She’s writing it with a collaborator.”
Of course she is.
All of us locals from central Jersey have been dodging the fallout from Jersey Shore, but I think this is the one outcome of this show, and reality shows in general, that has finally put me over the edge. I understand that life is not fair. I accept that “The Situation” is now worth five million, will through his burgeoning fame be able to launch his album/clothing line/gym simply by throwing up occasionally, sharing some pithy commentary, and showing off his six-pack (or so I’ve heard). When I was ill this past spring I will come clean and share that I willingly watched a few episodes of the Bachelorette, and I grudgingly admit that I admired her obvious charm and wit. I also admit I was secretly hoping the plot twist would be she was a lesbian with no intention of searching for heterosexual love, instead was simply hoping to use the show as a vehicle for her own perfume/clothing line/book deal. Ultimately I was disappointed, but at least she didn’t end up with that creepy guy with the glasses. I’m hoping for his sake he already has a good day job.
I can rise above and stomach all of this “faux fame” because I know this is how the world works, that you don’t actually have to possess a talent to become well-known and reap the often dubious rewards that notoriety brings. I have to draw the line somewhere however, and I have chosen to make my mark in the sand at a book deal. Hell, let’s face it, even if my manuscript gets published and I have a wardrobe malfunction on David Letterman, more people will ultimately read Snooki’s anyway (even if it’s on my good side).
The truth is, that despite the odd rules of our society, I’ve decided I can’t let Snooki show me up. My ambitions are quite paltry compared to hers, as I’m not really expecting our President to know my name, or frankly anyone outside of central Jersey. I’m not looking to make writing my new career, have my book be the autistic version of Eat, Pray, Love, or have it made into a movie, although I’ve already decided who would play us. Coach Taylor from FNL is a ringer for Jeff, and when I use my imagination, Reese Witherspoon for me . Apparently she’s anal in real life, and by the time the film hit theaters she might actually look old enough to play me ten years ago. Finding a child actor to play Justin would be a bit challenging however, so we’ll have to hope the Fannings push out another kid down the road.
So while the manuscript is edited and the blog is going strong I’ve realized I still need to ramp things up a bit, and since I’ve already ruled out reality TV despite the blessings of my liberal husband, I have one option left to me.
I’m going on tour.
Unlike my little brother I will not be darkening the doors of the Wachovia center. Instead, I’m taking my words to my peers, speaking to teachers and parents of special needs children, and we’ll see what happens next. The irony of my choosing to do this is that I’m fairly shy in large groups, was the student who always volunteered to do her oral report first just to get it over with, although during spelling bees I was completely confident.
Bring it, “ubiquitous”.
No, I have fairly pedestrian goals. I would eventually like to see my book grace the shelves of someone I’m not related to, as well as add to the coffers of Parents of Autistic Children by donating a portion of any profits made. Down the road, in my wildest fantasies, I’d also enjoy landing a part-time job in our education-ravaged state more interesting than that of hallway monitor. Wish me luck. Trust me, I’ll let you know how it goes.
I know, I dream big, but I figure if a girl from Brooklyn can get a carb named after her AND a book deal, a real Jersey girl might realize her dreams one day too.