#3 The Secret Longings Of My Heart

No more idleness! No more wasted time!

The secret longings of my heart:

It is my greatest hope to meet the greatest man of our time, Sylvester Stallone. No foe to taking the hits, this man is an inspiration to me.

I devised a plan
1. Lose 50 pounds and some how bulk up my muscles a little (not so I look like a scary lady body builder...but so I look like a leading lady in one of Sly's features...)

2. Write a book about anything and dedicate it to Sylvester. He truly is my inspiration.

3. Make sure the book becomes massively popular and winds up on the Oprah Book List.

4. Go on the Oprah show to promote my book, and be surprised when Oprah announces that Sylvester Stallone is in the building! "Yo, Megi" he'll yell from backstage as my heart jumps into my throat. It will be all I can do to keep from jumping on the couch. Out he'll walk onto the set and I'll leap into his strong arms. He'll lift me up and show me off, and tell me he's proud of me. The producers will insist that we film a "Rocky-esque" montage together and the next morning we'll get up early and go for a run. Then we'll get in the ring together for a photo-op. We'll climb up a lot of stairs! We'll have matching grey sweat-suits and headbands!

5. After all that, we'll develop a strong friendship and exchange Holiday Cards for a few years.


So if you ever see me looking a little glazed over, it's only because I'm dreaming of the moment.....

#2 Model planet

I recently saw an advertisement for the Victoria's secret semi-annual sale. "Geeze," I thought to myself, those ladies are sure purdy. But I didn't mean "purdy" that's a term reserved for obese Southerners and rabbits who can talk well enough to evaluate the aesthetics of daisies and poppies, what I meant was...those chicks are hot! I guess. Yeah, no, I'm gonna go with hot. That seems like what people would say. They were hot, and I loved them for it.

I hated them too. Look at them in standing in front of their wind machines, gyrating their hips, arching their backs, and wearing stripper shoes without looking like strippers. I realized I hated them because women like that are that good looking they are from another planet: Model Planet.

Someday I'm going to be that good looking, and I won't miss the semi-annual sale- I'll be there bursting down the door schmoozing the manager and walking out the door with dozens of little pink bags in hand- for free. I mean, I'll make friends with Lance the fabulous manager and he'll agree that I was born to wear their bras and panties- it'd be a crime to charge me for the garments!

Anyway, after that I'll be feeling pretty good so I'll put on my new lingerie and proudly walk the runway to board the rocket! Inside the rocket-ship I'll meet two ridiculously good looking men, men who are tired of being thought stupid for their rippling muscles and glamorously gel-ed hair: Rico and Sylvester. Rico (a paleontologist) and Sly (a brain surgeon) and I will jet off to model planet leaving the cruel ugly world behind.
* Artists rendering of me boarding the rocket*

#1: Being able to be carried out of a burning building by a single firefighter....(you know the glamorous way)

It is among my greatest fears to be trapped in a burning building, only to be found by a fireman who'd inevitably say, "unh-uh lady, you too meaty!" and leave me for dead in the flames.

So....I've reworked this little nightmare into a glamorous Hollywood-style fantasy: flames dancing off the walls, smoke filling my petite and fragile lungs, I know this is the end. But wait, who's that in the distance? I reach up a frail arm to signal my hero, and for a moment everything goes black. The next thing I remember he's caring me effortlessly down the steps of the building, my arms are draped delicately around his neck, the crowd is cheering and he places me delicately on a stretcher. I am the last person to be rescued, everyone is safe! Then, without warning my breathing becomes irregular, and for some reason there are no oxygen masks available at the moment so the firefighter whips off his mask, and low and behold it's a Matthew McConaughey look-a-like! He brings his angelic like lips to mine and breathes life into my fragile form.
Then, disaster strikes again. The healthy snack I had been enjoying, just moments before the fire broke out(a single-serving of almonds) travels up my throat and I vomit! I vomit into the handsome firefighter's mouth. Suddenly his face swells; he is allergic; allergic to almonds! Disaster! Soon he's in critical condition and I'm nearly dead from the embarrassment! We're whisked into ambulances and taken to the nearest hospital... and for some reason we're in comas by now!

Days later my old college roommate flies in from India remembering my request that if I were ever to go into a coma he'd come to my side and play the Smith's song "Girlfriend In A Coma." Somewhere deep inside me something stirs, as if I'm underwater I can hear this joyful song in the distance...I'm begin to come to....

In the bed next to mine the handsome firefighter stirs. I open my eyes! He opens his! Our eyes meet and it's love, love, love. (At first he was a little mad about the almond thing...)