I think I have adult onset ADD

I keep changing my mind about what I want to be when I grow up.  

Last week I wanted to be an alternative underwater hip hop instructor, yesterday I wanted to be a stand up comic, and today I want to be a cake boss.  

I don't like decorating cakes, but I know I would be good at dropping them down the stairs.    

Did anyone see that last night?  That was AWESOME!  I only wish my MIL had been here to watch it with me so I could hear her saying "HONEST TO PETE!  Oh GAD!  Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!"   

I'm pretty much addicted to Cake Boss now.  But seriously, how much of that show is even real?  I mean, it's all a set up, right?  Pouring muddy water in the frosting, mixing up the cake deliveries, ordering doves and receiving ducks--real life just ain't that exciting unless you plan it in advance.  

So if I was a stand up comic what would I wear?   Maybe a crash test dummy suit and a push up bra? 

And a seat belt.  I would definitely wear a seat belt.  

But what jokes would I tell? 

Maybe I could tell cultural jokes . . . in New York City do people teach their children to look one way before crossing the street?  

Get it?  Look one way.  Cuz all the streets are one way streets.  

Ahhh, I crack myself up. 

Or maybe I could tell nudity jokes . . . so someone hit my blog today with the search words Naked Boat.  Hey, whatever floats their boat.  (Their naked boat, that is.)   

Hardy har har.

Honestly, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.  Maybe I should be a celebrity blogger.  But I would only tell the good stuff.  Like my friend Colleen, her daughter is doing an internship in Washington D.C. and her friend got to see Hilary Clinton and she said Hilary Clinton is really really really really really pretty in real life.   

I know! Whodathought! 

And I have another friend, Taylor, who taught tennis lessons next door to Martha Stewart's house and she said Martha Stewart is a reverse horse racist.  She won't buy a horse unless it's jet black and she won't ride them unless it's pitch black outside.  

And did you know Regis refuses to carry his own briefcase?  He lives right across the street from the studio where he films Regis and Kelly and every morning at exactly 8:15 he walks across the street with his body guard.  And guess who's carrying the briefcase? 

I have photographic evidence to back this story up:

And he doesn't carry his own umbrella either. 

Unlike Kelly, who comes to work at 4 a.m. and goes running before she goes to make-up. 

 

You learn a lot when you're waiting in the rain for 4 hours snarfing the NBC studio's complimentary hot cocoa and Krispy Kremes.

I wouldn't mind doing that full time when I grow up.

BUT Seriously peeps!  My first public appearance is quickly approaching!  Only 4 more days! I'm so excited to meet all of you.  And maybe I can try out my new stand-up routine and see how it flies.  

I'm going to start a running link list at the top of my blog of who is coming so RSVP in my comment box if you are going to make it so when I show up at 4:00 a.m. to reserve tables I'll have a head count.  

LY everyone!