"Hello," I nervously look in to the camera, "My name is Marni and I hope you will consider helping me on my weight loss journey. You see, at one point in my life, I was thirteen years old and about 90 pounds. Since then, I have really let myself go. I discovered alcohol and, and, and.."
"There, there," says Jillian Micheals, patting me on the shoulder, "Let it out."
"Hollandaise sauce!" I sob, "Its so creamy and delicious! And I love it so!"
She nods encouragingly.
"So I would really like if you could choose me and help me lose 10lbs! Or heck, maybe 100? I’d love to get back down to my birth weight!"
Biggest Loser auditions are going on at Rockefeller Center. Think they could swing me like 2 weeks on the ranch? I mean bikini season is almost upon us! It’s not fair that only the morbidly obese get to go the gym for free…
Every time there's a new Marni's World on my dash, my day is made. <3 I wish I had a bear cub friend named Rufus with alcoholic tendencies!
I want to tell you something very important. You are never truly drinking alone, because Rufus is always there in spirit. If you ever think that there seems to be not quite enough wine in the bottle, it is Rufus, taking sips when no one is looking. He’s so mischievous.
EDIT: Rufus would also like me to point out that he is handsome and enjoys New Wave cinema.
I had a dream last night that I was in the new Harry Potter movie. Actually, it was a pretty juicy role: Rubeus Hagrid, gamekeeper. I had to wear stilts the whole time which I struggled with, but I overcame the challenge and managed to deliver a really solid performance. The whole time I kept thinking to myself “This is the best thing that could have ever happened to me, I mean, I’m getting to play Hagrid!!”
I am concerned that I had a dream where I was cast to play a 500 lb giant man, and was psyched about it.
I am toying with the idea of getting bangs again. But I must remind myself that this decision will result in the following:
-Having to straighten them every day -Not wanting to straighten them most days -Doing interesting things with bobby pins to avoid straightening them -Having hair in my eyes -Thinking I look great only to look in the mirror and see that bangs have revolted and that I look like a cockatoo -Looking like a cockatoo -Bobby pins everywhere -An awkward growing out phase involving barrettes -Trying to put hair into a ponytail during awkward growing out phase only to find that half of it can not reach hair tie -Profanity
I have the suspicion that everyone else in the world is breaking into choreographed musical numbers on the regular. They must be doing it whenever I’m out of ear shot.
The grocery store checkout guy was probably doing a fantastic Joni Mitchell before I got in line, and I’m pretty sure I saw some jazz hands on the subway car one over from mine. Those sneaks!
Why won’t they invite me? Don’t they know I can belt it like Mercedes? That I can dance like Mike Chang? Well I’ll show ‘em. I’ll show ‘em all. I just have to pick the right Streisand number, that’s all! I’ll just go to Buttercup Bakery and I’m sure somebody there will have a guitar and that the bakers will all harmonize in the background and then they’ll see that they don’t have to hide from me anymore. They’ll see that I’m one of them! And then I’ll never have to talk about my feelings ever again because I will just be able to sing about them! YES!
When did you start this? How many fans are reading you daily? Have you sent this to any local papers? This could be your next career!
I started this about a month ago but I have been living in Marni’s World my whole life. It’s a lovely place with unicorns, rainbows and Cheeto trees. So far this is just on the ol’ tumblr…and in the ol’ noggin.
Marni’s World: NYTimes has picked this up and it will be syndicated across the globe. I can now live a Carrie Bradshaw-esque existence where I “get to thinking” about things, but mostly spend my days brunching, shopping and wearing shoes that cost more than my rent…Perfection.
I step on the scale and look down. The number is disappointing and I make an adorable, scrunched up face in the mirror. I hear music in the background, and suddenly I am transported into an Adidas store. I blink and I’m jauntily stepping out the door, shopping bags in hand. I turn the corner and find myself sprinting on an elliptical machine. Just as I wipe the sweat from my brow, I realize I’m at the grocery store, piling my cart high with fruits and veg. I lift a pineapple from the shelf and it’s transformed into a weight. I start running, up higher and higher and higher. till I reach the top of a mountain. The music crescendos as I look down at the scale. Fifteen pounds lighter! I pump my fists in the air and yell “Pool Party, here I come!”
Real World: Ah, need to go on a diet. Wish I could do it in one quick video montage.
We are sitting in a boat made of pasta, on fluffy Ricotta cushions. We float down the tomato river and watch the Parmesan flakes play in the current. The strains of That’s Amore softly play in the background. I sing along “When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine, that’s amore!”
Dean Martin chimes in “When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool, that’s amore!” Then we laugh and use our spoons to row our boat a bit closer to the Mozzarella shores.
I made stuffed shells for dinner last night and they were tops.
Teresa: In fact as I was walking in the snow today I thought of all kinds of Marniworld things
Me: Ooh like what?
Teresa: Well when they shovel the sidewalks, they basically build little tunnels on either side of the street and because I’m so short I can’t see over them. And I was pretending to be a mouse in a maze with delightful warm brie waiting for me at the end
“I mean, your blog presents the real-life manifestations of manufactured realities that affected city dwelling twenty somethings create to supplant the actual quotidian banalities of their true existence.”—V. Kitzie
Spring has sprung! Around me the birds are singing Beach Boys tunes and the flowers are blooming like mad. The snow banks have been replaced by rolling fields of daffodils and small bunnies are falling in love all over the freaking place.
I look down and my frump-a-dump flannel outfit has been replaced by a lovely gingham frock. In my once mittened hands, I now hold a wicker basket filled to the brim with delights.
"How wonderful! It must be picnic weather!" I say to Rufus, the rambunctious bear cub with alcoholic tendancies.
He chortles behind his Ray-Bans. “You must mean margarita weather!”
I take his paw in my hand and pat him on the back reassuringly. “Of course that’s what I mean, pumpkin.”
Marni’s World: The closet gods have been smiling down on me. I’ve got a high waisted skirt topped with a sparkle sweater reminiscent of Vuitton. I’ve got some Philip Lim moccasin wedges. I’ve got my funky bracelets and my bright clutch. Looookin’ good, feelin’ even better.
Real World: I walk out of my room. My brother Devin says “What the hell are you wearing? You look like you’ve just escaped from somewhere.” "Yes," I say, "From the pages of Vogue."
Sorry darlings, I’ve been slow on the updates as I don’t have any service out here on the yacht. But rest assured, I’m using SPF 30 and eating lots of lobster. Will report back once we dock in Nice. Note to self: N’oublie pas d’avoir un petit cafe avec Karl.
Have the flu. Seen irresponsible amounts of daytime TV. Staring to want to tease my hair and slap everyone. Also have gone through insane amounts of eye drops and tissues. Slap slap slap.