I’ve always been a dreamer.
Some dreams, like paying my way through graduate school, or becoming a fitness instructor have been totally realistic. They certainly weren’t easy to accomplish, but I wanted them badly enough to make them happen.
They are the dreams I’ve willed to come true.
Other past dreams, such as winning the 2008 Mrs. New York America pageant despite being 20 pounds overweight, or being asked out on a friend date by my favorite author were not only ludicrous…they were essentially impossible.
And you know what? I’m actually pretty okay with that.
Because I’m not afraid to fail. I never have been, and I hope I never will be.
This is partially due to the fact that I have wonderfully supportive and encouraging parents who stand behind every single goal I sink my teeth into…even the Mrs. New York America pageant. (They flew all the way out from Seattle for the event and proceeded to recount the many reasons why I should have been crowned the victor on our three-hour drive back to Syracuse. Not once did they mention that I probably should have worn a skirted swimsuit, a dismal fact we all knew to be true.)
It’s also partially due to the fact that no matter how many times I fall flat on my face, my self-esteem is not only healthy…it’s practically on steroids.
This is what my husband Scott likes to refer to as “being delusional”.
I like to call it being the head cheerleader for Team Katrina…which is basically being delusional, but with pom poms.
The last year has been no exception. I’ve dreamed of reaching my goal weight, becoming fluent in Spanish, and something I haven’t yet had the bravery to publicly admit on this blog until now…becoming a published author.
I’d say all of these dreams are within the realm of possibility, but will require a great deal of blood, sweat, and tears…and probably a few trips to Wal-Mart.
But they’re possible.
Yet tonight, I don’t want to talk about dreams that are possible.
I want to talk about dreams that hinge on luck, coincidence, and the opinion of a Los Angeles casting director.
I want to talk about my dream of being on a reality show.
This is actually a dream I’ve had since I watched my very first episode of Passion Island way back in 2001. Yes, that show was one of the biggest train-wrecks in the history of NBC programming, but it did help me come to a very important realization.
While I’m a terrible actress (despite going to college on a theater scholarship), I think I actually have a personality that’s quirky enough to translate on camera. I’m kind of preposterous…which may not always make for a pleasant day-to-day existence, but certainly makes for excellent reality television.
I’m also pretty competitive. Recently, one of my co-workers told me I should go on Survivor because I’m sly, strategic, and I win everything.
It was the compliment of a lifetime.
Also? Going on Survivor would probably help me with my dream of reaching my goal-weight. I’m just saying…it would be like killing two birds with one bug-eating, fire-kindling, dehydrated in the wildnerness stone.
But I’ve been holding out. I don’t think I’m actually cut out for Survivor, and just keep telling myself that I’m simply “waiting for the right reality show to come along”.
Last night, I finally realized what a lame excuse that is. I mean….”Top Web Designer” is probably never going to get past the pilot, and I doubt Bravo will be picking up “The Real Housewives of Minnesota” anytime soon.
The time has come to get serious.
I guess this is my way of admitting that I kind of conned my sister Hayley into signing up for “The Amazing Race” with me last night.
If we aren’t selected, I’m blaming it on the fact that Hayley has a really crappy webcam with terrible audio capability.
Not to mention the fact that the lighting kind of made her skin look green. (Disclaimer: Hayley has beautiful skin. A terrible PC webcam, but totally beautiful skin.)
I mean…not getting picked for the show would just have to do with one of those factors. Why else would they turn down someone as beautiful, talented, charming and entertaining as me?
Uh…I mean…as us?
(See what I mean about the confidence on steroids?)
Dare to dream, Katrina. Dare to dream.
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