My Desired Perfect Life on Weekends


Daughter #1 and son #1 knock on my bedroom door. I check and see that husband and I are fully clothed so I tell them to enter. They walk in, holding a tray with freshly squeezed apple juice, sunnyside up eggs, kimchi, pork and duck egg congee, and bird’s nest soup. Because I’m smart, I immediately know they want something. I tell them to put the trays down, sing a little song for their dad and me. I request T.I.’s latest rap song, “A Lot of Big Things Still Poppin’” but I realize there is profanity in it so instead I ask them to sing “You Are My Sunshine.”

After singing, they ask to go to the amusement park. I tell them no because it’s a very public place so there will be a lot of paparazzi thus we won’t be able to have our family privacy and have fun.

My husband reminds me that I’m no longer famous and people really don’t give a shit about me anymore. I tell him he’s sleeping in the car tonight.

Late Morning:

I compromise so we travel to the local state park. Once we get there, I can’t stop complaining about how many mosquitos there are and tell my husband to show more flesh so that they can bite him. Daughter #1 and son #1 tells me I am a party pooper. I tell them they’re adopted.

We hike along the mountain and use our 4D-1,000-megapixel-2-ounce-camera to take pictures of ourselves. I hog the camera to take pictures of myself because I think I’m still sexy but sees that I look old as hell. I start getting sad and start screaming at the top of my lungs.

My husband throws grass at me. Son #1 and daughter #1 says “mom you’re the most beautiful woman in our life.” I kiss them hard. I tell them I was joking earlier that they are not adopted but came out of me through C-section. They tell me I’m gross. I smile and flick grass off of my body.


I tell the kids and my husband we should get going because I still have to host the 93rd Academy Awards. They tell me to stop freaking out since this is my 3rd time hosting it. I tell them I’m starting to get stage fright already and want to piss in my pants.

They ignore me.

Early Afternoon:

I’m in my dressing room at the 93rd Academy Awards. My makeup artist tells me to get out of the hot tub so she can finish applying makeup. I whine and beg for two more minutes.

I put on my Louis-rada Spade-Cci dress but it’s a little tight. My dresser tells me I should have watched my diet when I signed the contract to host the awards. I give him the middle finger. He sighs and says he never wants to work for me again. I tell him that he says that every time we work together but that deep down inside he loves me. He tells me I’m insane.

I stop bickering because I’m starting to forget my lines. My agent reminds me that teleprompters do exist. I tell her I’m not dumb so I will remember my lines. She tells me I will forget my lines because I’m a chicken and always have stage fright.

I start to wonder why I am in the entertainment business.

Late Afternoon:

We do a dress rehearsal. Then, for the 8th time, Ryan Gosling tries to ask me out on a date. I tell him for the 8th time that I am happily married and am loyal to my husband. He says persistence is the key and one day I will be his woman.


I curse before I go on stage. My legs start to shake. I peek out at the audience. I see my husband and the kids in the front row. I text husband to tell him I want to die. He texts me back and tells me I am awesome and that he loves me. Daughter #1 and son #1 are busy playing video games on their iPhone20S.

Late Evening:

I go off script and start making things really awkward on stage. I can see from the corner of my eyes that my agent is not happy. But I tell myself that life will still go on. During one award presentation, Ben Affleck asks me on national television if I can be the female lead in his next movie, Fargo. I tell him no because I’m very busy.

Late Late Night:

The family and I are in a limo on our way back home. I get a text message from Ryan Gosling asking me why I am not going to the after party. I ignore him because I’m already with the man I’m madly in love with. I put my arms around daughter #1 and son #1, kissing them on their cheeks as they both begin to fall asleep. Husband tells me that I made a lot of awkward moments tonight but that I am beautiful, not just tonight but every night.

I tell him to shut up because he’s making me gag but he does not have to sleep in the car tonight.

I call my agent and tell her to donate 80% of my compensation from tonight’s gig to a non-profit organization. She says I’m insane for doing this again. I tell her I hate capitalism. She informs me that the Academy Awards committee loved my performance again, of course. They want to secure me as next year’s host, again. I tell her to fight for a 30% increase in compensation because I’m planning to build another non-profit school.  She hangs up on me.


Daughter #1 and son #1 are in bed. Husband looks at me and tells me he is so lucky to have me in his life. I roll my eyes and tell him I hate him.

*To read entries on my desired perfect life on the weekdays see:



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