I’ve had a request to talk about Miley Cyrus. That’s right, someone (cough Ann cough) has REQUESTED a post from ME. ME.
I’m clearly big-time. You should all be thankful you knew me when.
So here’s the thing . . . I don’t get all into the hype of the Oscar’s or the Tony’s or the AMA’s or the VMA’s or the POS’s. Okay I made that last one up but it seemed appropriate at the time so let’s go with it. Famous people just don’t do it for me. I don’t care that they’re famous. I don’t follow them relentlessly on social media or try to replicate the last outfit they were seen in on the cover of Cosmo or even buy Cosmo for that matter.
Except for maybe Jim Croce (who’s dead so it’s never gonna happen) I really don’t even have a desire to meet a famous person.
My Brother-in-Law recently invited me to a Sci-Fi Convention (it’s one of my geekier passions, let’s just breeze past it like I never even mentioned it) and after much debate I politely declined because I knew he’d want to get autographs. The thought of standing in line to meet an actor from Firefly felt akin to standing in a giant vat of water that slowly started to heat up. At first it’s all cool, then you have a nagging building suspicion that something is not quite right till you’ve been there 45 minutes and your head suddenly explodes. Clearly I’ve never been mistaken for a patient person. And yes I swear it takes 45 freaking minutes to boil water on my 30 year old stove top.
My BIL is pretty cool though so it would have been nice to chat with him sans kiddos. And since I’m a geek I wouldn’t have minded the experience one bit. So mostly it was the line standing.
Now don’t get me wrong, I like music and TV and movies just like everybody else.