If I had a reality TV show that’s what it would be called. I really should have had one years ago. Everytime i tell a story, someone ends up laughing. It’s very rarely me; I end up looking at the person laughing like, is this amusing? because I’m 100% serious right now, but then I realize it probably is amusing to them — they have most likely never heard anything like this before. They always say the same thing, “Yo, you need your own show.” More than just as a form of therapy, I started writing things down because I have a hard time remembering things and moreover, you just cant make up the situations I encounter on a daily basis. On the plus side, my situations are sometimes relatable and usually comical.
There are more than a couple reasons why I would have the best show ever.
1. I’m hilarious
Or at least that’s what I think. I can feel my brother’s eyes rolling at the sight of this. Whatever. I mean, you would think that too if every text you sent to your BFFL got a “LMAO” response. It’s the ultimate instant validation.
I’ve been funny my whole life. As a kid I wasn’t comfortable with myself, and the lack of confidence made me hold in my thoughts. So I was pretty much a mute in school to my peers. But in my head I was a stand up comic at 7 years old. As I got older I realized that other people would say something thinking it was funny, and in actuality it was not funny — what I had going on in my head was in fact, much funnier than what they had spewed. So I started to slowly remove my verbal filter. Now it’s just your average word vomit. Combined with your average “lawn guy-land” accent and the fact that I cant tell a story without using my hands = instant comedic genius. Maybe that’s overdoing it but that’s how I feel.
2. My family is hilarious.
When I was a senior in high school my parents gave me a palm pilot for christmas because I insisted i had too much on my plate and needed to keep track. In this little gem of a hand held personal assistant was a video recorder, which I would use to record our dinners each night. Most people go “Huh?” when I tell them I record dinner, but the reason was because for one, we always ate dinner together, no exceptions. And two, as I panned around each member of the family it was something out of a movie. First at the head of the table, dad; eating his pasta and yelling at Anthony, one of my brothers, to stop shoveling his food in his mouth and “take human bites” — think of Homer yelling at Bart. Then panning right was Joey, eating and singing/dancing to an usher song by himself (food makes us happy like that). Next, Nicky, as far away from me as my parents could place him because the bickering was unbearable. We bickered diagonally anyway… and kicked each other under the table. Then my mother, observing… or not. Just trying to enjoy her dinner amid yelling, singing, and ignorance. Next to me was Anthony, still shoveling his food. And knocking his elbows into mine as we ate with opposite hands. Still shoveling his food anyway. He has selective hearing. There’s 90‘s pop radio on in the background, which became the standard after we got my mom one of those under the cabinet radio/CD players. Pan around again and it’s basically the same. Dad still on a rant. Nicky still being annoying, Mom still ignoring us all. And then Joey’s spot at the table is empty. I turn around and see him doing his best MC hammer. As if on cue, my dad says “No. no, no, you’re doing it wrong. Wait, let me show you.” And he too has left the dinner table, leaving his meatball half eaten and throwing down his utensils. And they start doing the Hammer dance in the middle of dinner, in the middle of the kitchen. Anthony still shoveling his food, Mom still ignoring us all. And me, taking it all in via camcorder. Just your average dinner in the Villani household.
3. I have an adorable GBF
If you don’t know what that is, you’re going to have to google it. I can’t explain it. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Also, I can’t tell you which of my friends it is, because we all know what would have to happen if I told you…
Regardless, anyone who has seen Shahs of Sunset knows that Reza totally makes that show and he and MJ’s friendship is too funny. He would be amazing with or without his mustache but I totally get that it’s his marketing tool. My GBF’s marketing tool would be their devastating good looks and the drama in their love life. Too, too cute for words.
I went from average girl to full blown fruit fly in the course of one brunch. I have to say, it takes some getting used to. But after the initial shock settles, life becomes wonderful again. Usually we’re BFF, but too much of a good thing is never a good thing. I can be texting my BFF for like,12 hours non-stop and then not talk to them for 2 days. No wait; I lied. The longest I went recently was half a day and then I got withdrawal symptoms. So I decided I would just harass them with text messages and obnoxious e-cards. If they end up being annoyed? Oh well. I’m still funny. Sometimes they dont text me back. And that’s ok. Most of the time we have inside jokes and adore each other. When we get together it consists of eating and 467 hours of gossip (as if we hadn’t already been texting about it). It’s a wonderful world of sarcasm, inappropriate bitching about our other friends and day-drinking. We’ll be doing it until we’re old and in rocking chairs on our front porches which really wont be much different than how it is now except we’ll be old and hoping our alcohol doesn’t interact with our meds.
4. I’m kind of a weirdo.
But not like, a freak. Just a little odd. I mean, I went to college for art. Hi, I’m a red flag. I sing Disney movie soundtracks when I’m feeling down. I freak out trying to pump my own gas and anything on the floor next to the bed makes me go nutty until I put it where it actually belongs. Weird people are fun, normal people are boring. Done and done.
5. I have a degree but I mop floors for a living
Most of my day is spent in my hat and hairnet and apron and people assume that I don’t speak english. But I’m also wearing glasses so I must be knowledgable. Which means that 90% of the people I help out feel the need to play a game of charades with their concerns or questions to me and when I respond with a, “Yeah, sure, what can I do for ya?” there’s always the air of surprise. I should be an art teacher but I’m really just a substitute at this point, who moonlights as a cake decorator. Often hit on by gym teachers and old janitors who don’t know who I am. Mostly ignored, holding a mop. …Trials and tribulations of a broke-ass 20-something.