the lovely parting gift: me!
September 02, 2003, 10:10 pm

Dear adoring reading public,

Remind me to never, EVER go on a reality dating show. Ever.

Poor Robert. Here he is, trying to make a name for himself on a reality dating show, only to be forced on the most awkward dates of all time every week and subjected to the hatred of all Americans. (See Cupid for more details.)

And what about Bob? Will Bob ever find true love? Not fucking likely with the parade of bimbos that surely await him this season on the Bachelor. I mean really, a good friend of mine sent a REALLY funny, very witty, super hilarious (with a not-so-bad picture, might I add) of herself in with her e-application, and just because she wrote her actual weight on it, she was rejected.

Honestly. I could have, erm, SHE could have lied and said she weighed 107 or something, but then when I, erm, SHE would have shown up in LA they would have been in for quite a shock. Damn stupid TV execs not liking fat chicks...

What if I started my own reality dating series titled, "Married Man Magnet" or something, where I date a whole bunch of guys and get freaky with them, and then find out later that *gasp* they're already married and *gasp* now all of America despises me for being a freaking homewrecker. Yeah, yeah, that's the ticket!

I can't imagine anything more humiliating than dating; having everyone and their moms know what I did on a date is a bit too much for me. Alright, alright, I know I'm more than a little generous with the info I divulge here, but there's a big difference in how I can skew this journal into believing that at all times I am super smooth and not at all nervous for a date than seeing it replayed in front of me, sweaty palms and embarrassing noises later. Here I can leave out parts where conversation comes to a grinding halt or when I notice (horror of horrors) that I forgot to repaint my toenails, resulting in me keeping them curled underneath me for the rest of the evening. On screen, all of that would show. Bah to that.

Ooh! Ooh! A new reality series where students date their former teachers after they've graduated for cash and prizes!

Okay, that's sick, I admit, but you'd watch. Don't lie, you know you would.

I could call it "An Apple for A Date" or something stupid like that. How about "chalkboard love"? No?

What about patients dating their chiropractors? Been done? Crap.

And here I was thinking I could lure Dr. Ray on tv.