Nashville: An Open Letter To Scarlett O'Connor
I wish I could say this was from a big fan, but it's not. Something about your wispy, kewpie-doll shtick drives me nuts. But I like people and I want other humans to be happy and you are so not happy that you are popping pills and trying to get fired from dream jobs and just randomly pouting and contorting yourself angrily and your accent is getting worse and worse.
You're so ethereal! Or something.
So I just wanted to submit to you my deepest sympathies. I am so sorry that your job isn't amazing. Sure, you're a performing artist and you got signed almost out of nowhere by a country music legend and you got to hand pick your producer and you're opening for a major act and you have thousands of people cheering for you while you perform songs that you wrote yourself and that matter a lot to you personally. But oh my god UGH the hours. Plus executives caring about stuff. Plus you lost a friend (sure, by telling her to get lost, but still!). And producers. And some audience members don't like you and they let you know it. IT IS THE WORST, GIRL. I am so sorry.
I mean I can't totally relate. Sure, at my job today, something really exciting happened: a temp sat in for a woman who sits in a cubicle near me. But this unparalleled thrill was mitigated by the fact that the work itself is mind-numbing and I didn't have any moments that nourished my soul or let me have the creative outlet I spent my whole life dreaming of and working toward. And the job is really boring and doesn't pay very well and doesn't offer any room for advancement or growth or anything. But hey! At least nobody expects me to show up at an after-party or do a radio interview! MY HEART BLEEDS FOR YOU. I think everyone's does, right?
As we all know, we're all promised jobs from birth that are only fulfilling and fun and wealth-inducing and awesome and it's TOTALLY NOT FAIR when there's a downside. That's pretty much what adulthood is, right? (I'm a little older than you, Scarlett, so I can assure you from experience: OMIGOSH THE WORLD OWES YOU MORE. My heart truly goes out to you. It's complete bullshit that you have to put up with hours and expectations and you can't just be having a blast all the time in a way that's comfortable for you. You should be allowed to live the dream just the way the rest of us do. Pure joy with no downside is what adulthood is about for everyone, so if you just complain enough and take enough pills it'll sort itself out because SNOWFLAKE.)
Again with deepest sympathies,
P.S. Can you tell the headlining act her fake hair is starting to look like it literally hurts?
P.P.S. Is there any chance that guy Will who you may have never met is really just bisexual instead of gay and maybe that way it's not really super horrible and sad for everyone involved that he just married a girl person?
I eagerly await a reply, Miss O'Connor.
ADDENDUM: This less-fake open letter in the NY Post to a mildly-less-fake celebrity (who recently endured a bout of conscious uncoupling) came at just the right time and seems hilariously appropos, so I had to share it here.