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.
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.
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.
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.
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: