Sunday, October 14, 2007

Not ready for my closeup

People often ask me what's it like to be on television, and if I get nervous beforehand, to which I always answer with a definitive "no." Not because I wouldn't normally be anxious in such a forum, but because I am so off-the-charts stressed and harried in the hours, minutes, seconds leading up to my spot, that there is no luxury of time to even contemplate being nervous. I always say that there is no dignity in OB-GYN visits, post 9-11 air travel, or, being on TV; for me, all three of those are events equally humbling. Take for instance my show this past Saturday on Good Morning Connecticut. I started working on the crafts and recipes three weeks ago, finishing them up in a marathon sushi and sake-fueled pumpkin carving cram session late Friday evening. Six hours later--at 4:30 am--the alarm went off, and we arose, feeling the effects of that last bottle of sake, wishing we could tuck back under the comforter and sleep in like normal Saturday morning-loving Americans. Instead, we showered, dressed, and blearily packed up the Mini Cooper in the cold, dark October morning (remember that Indian Summer I was crowing about recently? Yeah, well, it's officially over), and hit the road for our 1-hour trip to the station. Except we somehow forgot that it's actually 1.5 hours to the station, and so we arrived at 7:05 for a 7:40 slot. It goes without saying that I was a bit deranged at this point, as the car had to be unloaded, and my table set up and ready in under a half hour, all in tippy-toe, quiet-as-a-Ninja silence, as the newscasters were reporting just feet away (yes, everything takes place in one, big studio: a pager, cell-phone, platform shoe, and sneeze-free zone). Jerry has become a pro at helping me set up, and he did the lionshare of the schlepping from car to studio, while I frantically got my crafts and foods in order, hoping that there would be time left to apply lipstick + blusher before the "3...2...1...Go" came from the camera man. Alas, there was not a second to spare to check my makeup, so I simply mopped my sweaty brow, prayed there was no leftover seaweed salad stuck in my tooth from dinner, smiled broadly, and went on with the show.

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