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Humor
I Am the Hole in Sherry’s Pants
My tribe increases
My new writer friend Sherry McGuinn just wrote a story called “There’s a Hole in My Pants.” It’s about how she fears staying home during the COVID-19 pandemic is causing her appearance standards to slip. She tagged me, along with some other writers, to answer the question, “What’s the hole in your pants?”
Well, my dear Sherry, I must confess that the hole in my pants is that I am, in fact, the hole in yours.
I don’t mean to get too metaphysical here. (Grammarly’s going to give me either an attagirl or a kick in the ass for using that word.) It’s just that the hole in Sherry’s pants has been my reality long before you could Google 785 million references to the word pandemic.
It’s kind of a sad story. It’s all about a life-long struggle with low self-esteem, especially when it comes to my looks. I never thought I was pretty.
It’s not that I thought I was ugly because I wasn’t. But my heart’s desire from the age of five has always been to be a movie star. When it comes to getting cast in a film, “nice-looking” doesn’t cut it. Nice-looking might get you the quirky pal part, not the ingenue, and certainly not the lead.
So I did what others before me have done. I acquired some mad skills: writing, acting…
