Stages of National TV Heartbreak

Forget Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and her five stages of grief and her umlaut.  What did that chick know about grief?  She never got rejected by national TV.

When it comes to this kind of profound heartbreak, you’re on your own.  Try these steps:

1) Go around saying you’ve had creative differences with the director.  Oh, yes, Errol Morris.  Yeah, the famous documentary director.  Well, you see, Errol wanted me to do the whole star trip, but I just wasn’t into it.  I’m too, like, unpretentious and grounded.

2) If no one believes this, since your friends are all a bunch of I-told-you-so, reality-based harpies, deny you were spending three-quarters of your waking hours talking about your national TV debut and imminent stardom.  Ask if they’re taking their meds, since that may be interfering with their memory.  If necessary, make new friends.

3) Listen to “I Will Survive” 157 times at top volume.  Lip-synch the words.  Then, when they’re memorized, belt them out.  GO!  WALK OUT THE DOOR!  … YOU’RE NOT WELCOME ANY MORE (ERROL)!

4) Remind self that people can’t stand being around bitter, obsessive, whining losers.  What a turn-off!

5) Examine possibility of age-discrimination lawsuit.

6) Take time out for fun.  Watch Sarah Palin’s speech.  Scream at the TV.  Wonder why Sarah Palin is on national TV and you’re not.  Criticize her hair.

7) You know those people who can’t stand being around bitter, obsessive losers?  Yeah, well, too bad.  Screw’em.

(Copyright 2008 by Ruth Pennebaker)

4 comments… add one
  • I’ve been on national TV. It didn’t help me pay back my advance on the Dr. Phil book. It didn’t help me earn any more money. It didn’t cause my phone to ring off the hook with editors offering me work. It didn’t even get me a congratulatory phone call from George Clooney. It did jackshit for me.
    And in one of the appearances, I looked so horrible, I still get a little teary-eyed when I think about it.

  • Joyce Link

    What does Errol Morris know? Who could possibly take him seriously? For God’s sake, the man’s mother named him after a movie star who was a notorious rake, wore a silly little mustache, and did most of his movies in tights and a doublet. I say, a pox upon Errol Morris!

  • I will survive works well. So does your blogging. God, are you a writer.

  • Ruth, did you take it to the Lord in prayer, the way Sarah Palin did the gas pipeline? Errol Morris will probably burn in hell, along with the liberals who voted against George Bush (according to Palin’s Holy Roller minister).

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