Confession - Why I hate America... Ferrera

Help.

Help me.

Please.

I am in a self-destructive spiral that cannot be broken.

Let me tell you, my friends, that I ate about 2000 calories of food today. This is bad for two reasons.

One, my diet plan only allows me to have 921 calories.

Two, eighty percent of my calories consumed today were made up of puffs…of both the cheese and cream variety.

I do not know what is the matter with me. But these phases come and go. It’s that green-eyed monster again. My inner demon. The fickle and ugly hand of jealousy.

I blame America Ferrera.

And not just her but every great woman out there who has stolen my thunder without even knowing it.

But we’ll start with America Ferrera. She’s cute, she’s Latina and she’s a talented actor. She’s not skinny, she’s not gorgeous but she’s got charm and skills. She has single-handedly taken my niche in the show business world. I could’ve been her if I had put down the puffs and applied myself….maybe.

Then there’s Bethenny Frankel. That rich bitch stole my money. She didn’t steal my idea but definitely the $100 million that should’ve been mine because I wished for that shit on a star when I was 10 years old. Dreams don’t come true, children. Lesson learned.

And don’t get me started on that lady who backed into a parking space today. Why can’t I figure out how to maneuver an SUV with such grace and class? I hate all people who back their cars into parking spots instead of just driving in head-first. They are arrogant show-offs and I hock a metaphorical loogie in their general direction.

I shouldn’t envy people. I especially shouldn’t wish ill upon my sisters. I should support them and applaud them for their success.

Sigh.

I’m trying.

I’m trying really hard.

No good thoughts yet.

Wait…I feel something bubbling to the surface.

God, I hate Angelina Jolie.

Do you know why? I mean, aside from the money and the beauty, she’s one of those motherly types who could have a million children from a million different countries and they will all share one giant bed and come out well-adjusted and kind and generous and close.

I have two and a day doesn’t go by when I don’t think about shoving one in the dryer for just 10 minutes.

I wouldn’t turn the dryer on, people.

I mean, I would never ever, in a million trillion years, put my child in a dryer.

It’s a metaphor. Just like the loogie.

Ok, back to working on that positive thought.

I hate Stephenie Meyer. She wrote my books. I swear I had those vampire dreams a million times. I just never wrote them down. But they were there. And now she’s got millions and I have to find something unique to write about which also makes me kind of hate Tina Fey now too.

Just kidding. Who could ever hate Tina Fey? She’s amazing.

But I do strongly dislike Jennifer Hudson. She’s thin now, don’t you know?

There’s gotta be something down deep that pure and good. Maybe I should meditate on it…whilst watching Sister Wives.

All the effort is making me slightly nauseated. And, no, it isn’t because of all the puffs. I’m nauseated from trying to be nice.

You know. I’ve worked hard enough for one day.

I’ll try again tomorrow.

I hate Sandra Bullock.