If you've been reading this blog, you already know several things about me that are relevant to today's posting. First, you know that I have an A+, competitive personality. You also know that I am a big fan of Oprah. Finally, you know that that I believe in karma. Now I have been working hard on improving myself, working on being kinder, more tuned into the larger picture and less self centered. Now I must admit my dirty little secret. Somewhere in the back of my mind is lurking the idea that if I become a better person, if I put out all this great, positive energy into the universe, then I will finally win one of these damn contests!
I have entered at least 10 contests sponsored by The Oprah Winfrey Show, The Oprah Magazine or Oprah.com. I have written essays, written postcards, written poetry, made collages, typed in codes, prayed, made bargains with God, deals with the Devil and I have received absolutely nothing in return. Each time a new contest rears it's seductive head, I enter with hopes high. My goal in entering these contests is to meet Oprah. Somehow I've made myself believe that if this actually happens, my goal of becoming a writer will actually materialize. How? I don't know. Osmosis. Hand-Of-God. The Oprah Touch. Something miraculous will happen to my molecules once in her presence and I will make a comfortable, happy living with my writing prowess. I know it is foolish. I admit it. I have a foolish pipe dream that has no basis in reality. In our heart of hearts, don't we all?
I just entered the latest contest to see Oprah. At least I think that is what is was. I was so excited upon receiving my O Magazine that I didn't even stop to read what it actually was I was trying to win. Of course, after I plugged in my magic code, I was informed that I was not a winner, but , by the way, did I want to subscribed to O Magazine? What?! That did it! I didn't care what the contest was about because I was really pissed. How the hell do they think I got the damn information to enter this stupid contest in the first place? You had to have this month's issue to get the code! I suppose I could have bought it off the shelf in the grocery store, but please. It was another ploy to sell something. Talk about pipe dream deferred, hopes quashed, fantasy shot to hell! Maybe I should write to Oprah and complain. Then she'll be so impressed with the eloquence of my letter, she will invite me onto her show. Some powerful book editor with be impressed with my personality and wit, and I'll get a book deal with a major publishing house. My life will be forever changed, all because of... See, here I go again. I gotta stop entering these damn contests.
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