People Are Strange… And Scary.
Reality fame sucks. Basically. Kinda. Well, not really but it does have it’s problems. You aren’t really famous. It’s like being popular…In high school. I was popular in HS. And just as in HS you don’t belong to yourself. You do what it takes to get to the popular table. You do and say all the things that will keep you in the loop. I remember freshman year coming into the game and not knowing anyone or anything really. Either you step up to the plate or you are relegated to band practice and riding the bus home. I was aiming for homecoming king and playing spin the bottle with guys at tennis camp. Well it didn’t take long to acquire the look of the popular. In my HS it was preppy. Levi’s, iZod, Polo and Coach reigned supreme. You needed to be gregarious, smart, well-dressed and kinda a bitch. See, these are the same things reality stars need. Gregarious gets you on the show. Smart keeps you in the game. Well-dressed goes hand in hand with sexy. And you know sexy gets you everywhere. And a bitch? Well we all need our armor.
Lately I’ve been re-evaluating what being popular and being a reality star means. Before All-Stars I was offered a TV show. For most people that is the holy grail. Being the host of your own show. Well I’ve done that. It wasn’t all I thought it would be. When I told the producer that I wasn’t taking the show and I was doing All-Stars she said, “Why would you do that?” “I thought you wanted to kill the reality thing.” I still struggle with my decision to do All-Stars to this day. I thought I had a chance at winning this time. Things don’t work out the way you think. Or hope. Or pray. I’ll never understand why Arnold and Alison pursued me so vigorously only to… Enough of that.