So close to Barbara Walters.. and then I flashed the interviewer.

There are interviews you nail, and well, interviews you fail. I just failed an interview. My small voice of reason and self-help book knowledge tells me to stay positive, visualize the job, visualize the "congratulations" phone call. But I knew, and for the first time am praying someone proves me wrong.

For any fruit-fly, Celine Dion loving, Janice Dickinson adoring human being, namely myself, this was the internship of a lifetime. I was being interviewed by "The View". Imagining someone asking, "Well, who are you dressing to impress" so that I could respond, "Well, Babs, Whoppi and Joy of course!" would have let me die a happy woman. (I leave out the no-name and Survivor cast away)

I have a feeling I'll still die happy, but Babs, Whoppi and Joy may be out of that equation. Frankly, I blame this whole debacle on my grandmother's sheer black tights. 

Those fucking tights that I am wearing as I write this, they should not be called tights - BECAUSE THEY'RE LOOSE. With every step I take, I feel the cheap polyester slide from lower back, to the top of my ass, to the middle, and then WHOOP - there it is.  I feel myself start to waddle as they slide deeper and deeper down my ass. 

Now you're probably asking yourself, "didn't you know this when you put them on?". And no, I did not.  Anyone who has met my overly generous (in this case) grandmother might then ask, "You do realize that you're borrowing tights from a woman three times your size." And yes, I did know that, but she assured me that they were not her tights and in fact, she buys all different tights because they were cheap, and on sale. Seeming like something she would do, I believe her.

It might not be logical to some to spend $100.00 on 10 pairs of tights when only one fits. But to my grandma, to spend the same $100.00 on a good pair that does, is simply a frivolous waste of money. Why spend $100.00 on one thing, when you can have 10 - and an added bonus is that you can outfit everyone from Twiggy to Big Foot. 

When every five seconds you have to worry about exposing yourself to the interviewer of "The View", lets just say your A game slides down as quickly as sasquatches tights on Twiggy's body, which in this case, is just what I've become.