The Hollywood Dream

6 Aug

Since it is my day of postage, my story must plod its weary way along. Currently I am listening to Samuel L. Jaxon’s (I think its him anyway) dulcet tones over the shiny opening credits of Surrogates. Because of this inefficient multitasking, please forgive my thoughtless wandering into the world of terrible Hollywood action/trillers.

Speaking of movies, why is it that postgraduate life can’t be more like, say, PostGrad? Why can’t we get the job, the apartment, the friends and the guy, all in ninety minutes? Wouldn’t it be easier to get through the rejections and the heartbreak if we knew that all those bumps were merely hilarious pitfalls on the way to a happy ending? And while I do have faith that my personally packaged happy ending is on its way, I just wish I could read the plot signals as well as I do those of my favorite Hollywood trash.

Speaking of Hollywood trash, one of my dreams is to live in a small apartment with a purple door and a yellow picture frame around the peephole. A cast of characters will wind their way in and out of my beautifully scripted fairy tale of a life. And later I will tell my children how I met their father in neat half hour episodes.

Which makes me wonder, has Hollywood trained us to expect too much? Between my parents telling me to shoot for the moon and television giving me the step by step plan to achieve such space flight, I find myself blinded by the stars in my eyes.

How much reaching before I get a cramp? How high is too high?


One Response to “The Hollywood Dream”


  1. Breaking the News « - September 10, 2010

    […] newcomer (hint: none).  I made fifteen bucks an hour without taxes.  So while this may not be me living the dream, colonizing Mars, or writing my own wildly popular column for the New York Times, this is me making […]

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