I'm a Miranda.
“I’m a Miranda.” - this journal’s title - is derived from Sex and the City’s cynical red-head, Miranda Hobbs, to whom I relate on many levels. (However, let it not be confused that I am actress Cynthia Nixon, who was outed last week as a lesbian.) My life has often mirrored Miranda’s - successful, independent, with a sharp wit and an aversion to intimacy - but it’s never actually become a storyline ... until now.
In “Lights, Camera, Relationship” (season six, episode 79), Miranda is picking up her son, Brady, from his father’s, Steve, who is busy making cupcakes. For several weeks now, Miranda has come to the realization that she “likes” Steve. Thinking the treats are for Brady’s playmates, she offers to help - not knowing until it’s too late they are really birthday cupcakes for Steve’s new girlfriend, Debbie. Steve has to leave for work - cupcakes unfinished - and Miranda (apron and all) volunteers to finish frosting them (each cupcake displaying a letter of “Happy Birthday Debbie.”) Upset and frustrated with herself, Miranda calls Carrie.
“Shit! I messed up Debbie’s B,” she cries.
“Miranda, put down the icing,” demands Carrie.
So, let’s now compare this to my situation: I have recently been hanging out with a guy, whom, coincidentally, I “like” (he knows - don’t worry - and will read this soon enough). On Saturday, he was trying to write a press release for his ex-girlfriend’s upcoming benefit concert, but he was having trouble making it sound professional. I, being the super-great girl that I am (not to mention masochist and snotty, know-it-all journalist), offered to help edit (rewrite) the release and even e-mail it to the appropriate editors, as I do know them personally. Oh no, I didn’t stop there. This morning I spoke with my editor about me possibly being assigned the article (I already know a great deal of info regarding the concert, plus I’m always looking for a good arts and entertainment piece to cover). Well, I got it - a 17 to 18 inch story about my crush’s ex-girlfriend in this Thursday’s section of Showcase. Oh, Miranda.
(Personally, I think this whole thing is pretty hysterical, and really, I’ll write a kick-ass article. Step off, staff entertainment journalist Dave Richards.)
You know what’s going to get really old, really fast? This mandatory pin I have to wear for Alpha Psi. I got caught today at breakfast by my big for not wearing it, and it’s only day one. In all seriousness, though, she can’t think I’m going to wear that retarded thing to work. Ha! I’m sorry, little ribbon, but you don’t match my professional garb. (Fine, I’ll just pin you to my chair to avoid another 25 cent fine. I can’t be wasting laundry money like this.)
In “Lights, Camera, Relationship” (season six, episode 79), Miranda is picking up her son, Brady, from his father’s, Steve, who is busy making cupcakes. For several weeks now, Miranda has come to the realization that she “likes” Steve. Thinking the treats are for Brady’s playmates, she offers to help - not knowing until it’s too late they are really birthday cupcakes for Steve’s new girlfriend, Debbie. Steve has to leave for work - cupcakes unfinished - and Miranda (apron and all) volunteers to finish frosting them (each cupcake displaying a letter of “Happy Birthday Debbie.”) Upset and frustrated with herself, Miranda calls Carrie.
“Shit! I messed up Debbie’s B,” she cries.
“Miranda, put down the icing,” demands Carrie.
So, let’s now compare this to my situation: I have recently been hanging out with a guy, whom, coincidentally, I “like” (he knows - don’t worry - and will read this soon enough). On Saturday, he was trying to write a press release for his ex-girlfriend’s upcoming benefit concert, but he was having trouble making it sound professional. I, being the super-great girl that I am (not to mention masochist and snotty, know-it-all journalist), offered to help edit (rewrite) the release and even e-mail it to the appropriate editors, as I do know them personally. Oh no, I didn’t stop there. This morning I spoke with my editor about me possibly being assigned the article (I already know a great deal of info regarding the concert, plus I’m always looking for a good arts and entertainment piece to cover). Well, I got it - a 17 to 18 inch story about my crush’s ex-girlfriend in this Thursday’s section of Showcase. Oh, Miranda.
(Personally, I think this whole thing is pretty hysterical, and really, I’ll write a kick-ass article. Step off, staff entertainment journalist Dave Richards.)
You know what’s going to get really old, really fast? This mandatory pin I have to wear for Alpha Psi. I got caught today at breakfast by my big for not wearing it, and it’s only day one. In all seriousness, though, she can’t think I’m going to wear that retarded thing to work. Ha! I’m sorry, little ribbon, but you don’t match my professional garb. (Fine, I’ll just pin you to my chair to avoid another 25 cent fine. I can’t be wasting laundry money like this.)