But I am all about the effort! So here are the steps I took to go from Lame to Glam in 48 hours. Except that I didn’t quite make it to glam. I think I made it somewhere in between. I ended up glame.
I tivo’ed the show I was going to be on to get an idea of what it would be like. I watched it again and again, a sense of unease growing exponentially with each viewing. This was going to be embarrassing.
Step Two: Planning
In a situation where time and resources are limited, careful planning is essential to success. I plotted my course for the next 48 hours down to the minute and readied myself with caffeinated beverages and deep breathing exercises. This might actually work!
Then my five year old son Hawk got croup, nearly stopped breathing and was on the verge of being hospitalized for a 24 hour period. One day later, I emerged from a stress-drenched frenzy of nebulizer treatments and cold humidifiers. He was fine and I was so relieved.
Furckitty furckwad. Only 24 hours to go.
Then my ancient, slutty laptop caught a virus and started acting funny. Six hours later she was dead. I had no computer. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW? Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Worry about that later. After you fall down on live TV and need to be taken out on a stretcher.
Step Three: Outfit
Most of my clothes are either hand-me-downs from my fashionable mother or purchased from one of the fine retailers where I also go to buy diapers (Target or Walmart). Kate told me that I was not allowed to wear a black t-shirt from Walmart on TV. No exceptions. Well super. That rules out everything I own that doesn’t have a visible boobstain.
I realized I had a $100 gift card for Talbots. Talbots closed at nine. It was 7:45 pm. I set a land speed record to get to the mall and ran in my clogs all the way to the red door that marked my destination. I walked in and frantically announced: “I need help! Will somebody please help me! I need an outfit and it has to be awesome!” The sales staff looked concerned and I could tell they were contemplating calling security.
For a moment, I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when no one would wait on her even though she had all of Richard Gere’s credit cards and money. Except I'm not a hooker and I only had the one gift card. At 8:59pm I walked out with a sweater and a pair of pants I ended up not wearing. [Editor's Note: The Cap’n has asked that I clarify that I was not pants-less on TV. I just wore something else. Sorry if that was confusing. I usually remember to wear pants. - Lydia]
I needed something to cover up my truly horrific roots. My hair was in dire need of re-striping but there just was no time for me to go to my usual salon (the Hair Cuttery in the Walmart shopping center). Kate, please stop gagging. That’s how I roll. So I asked a bunch of people what I should do given that it was now 9:45pm and I was going to be on TV the next day. Kate said don’t worry about it. My friend Mimi suggested wearing a hat. The Cap’n thought I should wear a bright orange Cincinnati Bengals football helmet so that the hosts and audience would immediately know who they were dealing with. Ellen said I had 15 minutes before Target closed and I should go buy a bottle of semi-permanent hair dye. This could work. And if I could just get my roots sorted out, I would have checked off everything on my list.
As I was running out of the house to go buy the hair products that would be my salvation and the key to my television success, one more thing happened. My husband shouted at me from across the house: “LYDIA! Wait! It’s really important!” I paused, thinking that I had no time to spare…
He stopped at the top of the staircase and looked at me imploringly. “You’re going to buy some hair dye?”
I nodded and did the little dance that is the international sign for 'I’m in a hurry' and also, 'I have to pee'. The words that came out of his mouth caused me to go into such a state of hysteria and giggling that I literally stopped caring if I would throw up on TV. I realized that I could be preparing for a personal audience with OPRAH herself and I would never, ever be anything but glame. Can you guess what he said? Oh, I think you can.
“Do you have a coupon for that?”
xo, Lydia – The Glamest Girl In Town
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