The scene is set for a glorious reunion. My boyfriend is coming, and we haven't seen each other in a month. He pulls up in his truck, I get a kiss on the cheek and then we go inside to watch Ocean's 11"" and fall asleep on the couch.
Wait, what? CUT! All wrong folks, all wrong. Where's the field of flowers? And he should be arriving on a stallion, not in a truck. This is a passionate reunion people; let's get it right! And where the hell is the orchestra? I specifically asked for a beautiful instrumental to be played by an invisible orchestra in this scene.
When the day comes that someone wants to make a movie of my life, I will be ready. I already see everyday occurrences in movie form. There is music playing gently in the background as I fold my laundry. The audience is breathless whenever I knock on a door. A camera zooms in every time I answer the phone, just in case I make my trademark over-dramatic eyebrow raise.
I understand that, in order to have a movie made about me, I might actually have to do something out of the ordinary. I have been compiling a list of extraordinary things I could do, but they are all cliché. I could always try thinking of something innovative, but that kind of mentality doesn't fly in the biz, so my plan is to use as many of these tried and true formulas as possible.
I will become a teacher who inspires her underprivileged students to greatness while coaching a group of shenanigan-loving baseball players to the state championship. And at some point I will run into a burning building full of babies and puppies and that guy who does the voice of the AFLAC duck and save them all. Everyone loves babies and puppies and affordable health insurance spokesfowl.
But, just in case those damn babies escape the inferno unassisted, I have a plan B. If I become successful in more than one field of work, I think that could be pretty movie-worthy. With my kindergartner-like ambition I plan to be a singer, actress, international spy, reporter, clothing designer and pirate.
As I tour the world flying the Jolly Roger and promoting my latest movie, pop album, clothing-line, fragrance, spoken-word album, sport sneaker, fat-reducing grill and happy meal tie-in, my partner Striker Killman and I will save the world from power-crazed villains with elaborate plans for world domination. Then I can type the whole adventure up for a front-page story back home. It's going to take a lot of work, but I am pretty dedicated.
My friends ask, ""But what if you give up on half those jobs, if not all of them?"" A minor inconvenience, for I have a plan C: Make it up. They always exaggerate things in movies anyway, what will it hurt if one or two of my experiences are aren't quite accurate? If in the movie I saved someone from getting hit by a car, does it really matter that in reality a golf cart hit him, and I just pointed and laughed from the driver's seat? That's just a small detail anyway. If anyone is going to take creative license with my life, it might as well be me.
Yes, some day ""The Megan Corbett Story"" will win praise, awards and the hearts of millions. Until then, I will be holding orchestra auditions at the Cardinal office, signing autographs for people, even when they specifically ask me not to, and posing in front of every reflective surface I see. A star always has to be ready for her close-up.
If you have ideas for a plot twist, or are just another adoring fan, e-mail Megan at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
