When I'm really depressed at work I like to read news clips about people I went to college with who are now "famous" and after a moment of dramatic faux self-pity I can usually see why I would be such a terrible famous person. Unlike my college friends who say incredibly appropriate inspiring things that prove their worth as model professionals in their field, I am wont to demistify the whole cheezy elevation of people onto quicksand pedestals by yapping away about my IBS or my thirty-somethin' menstrual flood (it's like a bad SNL sketch, really....see, I'm doing it already!) or the $3 shoes I bought at Thrifty while eating Rocky Road cone...or whatever it takes to gratify my perverse need to douse the world with my hyper-humanity.

The truth: I want to be an earthy inappropriate human being.

The facts: In this world, you have to have things like pinacles and "credits" so people can go ooh and aah enough times so they can shake their heads in condescension when you fall from grace like some Tennessee Williams character, or Winona Ryder (who was really just trying to make a point about the ridiculously over-priced crap they sell at Barney's) and then everyone can say to each other "See! she/he is really a screwed up human being - just like you and me!"

I already admit I'm screwed up like everyone in the world.

Just for today, I think I'm too human to be famous.