They all say it: I’ve worked so hard for this, I’ve dreamed of this since I was six years old, last year I watched this show from a bar across the street…. (that last one belonged to Maren Morris at the CMAs this year, not to an Oscar winner, but the sentiment is the same). I watch them say it from the couch in my pajamas, and I raise a glass, because I hear ya, sister friend. There are way more bars across the street than there is room on that stage.
Life hasn’t turned out like I planned. I’m not rich yet, which is just…weird. I thought for sure I’d be able to afford that summer home by now. I was thinking Prince Edward Island, which I’m pretty sure would only be truly satisfying in the summer what with it’s being in Canada and all. Or maybe the Florida Keys, you know, if Michael wins. And really I knew the cottage
And now, a couple movie reviews, my way. Which basically means I’d never get paid for this in an actual magazine unless that magazine were titled What They Meant To Me [comma] It’s All About. I saw two music-movies this weekend. I love music-movies despite the fact that I’m one of those people who watches the VMAs to mostly say, “Who the heck is that?” Aside: I have a few