I wonder how I have any friends at all.
“I don’t want to play with you anymore!” my son and I yell simultaneously at each other and run off to our rooms, each slamming our respective door. We are two little mirrors, my son and I.
So after much family prompting and many tears (mine) I have decided to join DQO — Drama Queen Onymous. (Because we want people to know.)
A week later, I head to my first meeting. It is held in the one and only basement in Florida.
I’m dressed in my biggest wig and have painted my eyebrows out. For some reason I might have gotten it in my head that I was going to Drag Queen Onymous. (I blame this delusion on that fact that since I’ve had kids I’ve racked my brain so many times that it looks like a partially unloaded dishwasher.) In any event, I am sorely underdressed.
I walk into a room with nine other boa-wearing, wine-sipping humans and meekly take a seat. After some announcements we are each given a sheet of paper printed with The Twelve Steps of Drama Queen Onymous and we read them out loud together.
1. We admit that we are powerless over drama — that our lives have more twists than a Brazilian telenovela.
2. We have come to believe that a Director greater than ourselves could restore us to fame and power.
3. We have made a decision to turn our backs against the wall and only show our good sides. (Announce your good side now.)
4. We have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our shoes.
5. We have admitted to God, to the universe, and to a crowd of human beings in a slurred and boisterous voice the exact nature of the wrongs committed against us.
6. We are entirely ready to have God (or whatever name you call your plastic surgeon) remove all these defects of body.
7. We humbly asked Him to remove our shortness.
8. We’ve made a list of all persons whose eyes, ears or brains had been permanently scarred by our charades.
9. We’ve made direct amends with such people whenever there was a possibility that they might be willing to sponsor a reality TV show featuring us.
10. We will continue to take personal clothing inventory, and when we’ve been wronged we promptly announce it.
11. We have sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with fame, as we understand it, praying only for knowledge of a long-term, multimillion-dollar modeling contract and for the body to carry that out.
12. Having had zero spiritual awakenings as the result of these Steps, we try and sabotage all other DQOs while practicing principle and vice principle affairs.
After we chant our 12 steps, we sit back down in our chairs and look at one another. It is quiet.
Then…I POUNCE OUT OF MY CHAIR, SCREAM “¡DONDE ESTÁ LA BIBLIOTECA!”, CLAW OUT THE EYES OF THE ONYMOUS DIRECTOR, KISS HIS WIFE AND SLAM THE DOOR.
Next week, step two.