Code Name: Kevin Costner

Perhaps my six year old self was right. Maybe I'm not meant to be in a creative field. Maybe I should have taken my life in a much different direction. I take solace in the fact that somewhere in an alternate universe (possibly the one where in 2036 Desmond is stuck in amber), no one told me The X-Files wasn't real and I am fighting crime and aliens with Mulder, Scully, and my cigarette smoking homeboy.

This runaway thought train began during my sobriety free St. Patrick's Day festivities. For some reason, Vice President Joe Biden decided to lead the 'Burgh's bagpipers through dahntawn. Of course, accompanying him were a bunch of Secret Service agents. Well, my friend put the idea in my head that "it can't be that hard." Besides, ya know, the possibility of taking a bullet for someone that you might not even like. Thus, the seed of becoming "Code Name: Kevin Costner" was planted in my warped little mind.

It's a true underdog story. A girl from a small town with big city dreams that are immediately dashed once she enters the harsh realities of the "real world" where people stop being polite... and start getting real. She could feel the creativity slowly seeping out of her soul, the writer's blocks becoming walls and the walls demanding a sacrifice of 10,000 men... but settling on a man simply named 10,000 and being a man made structure that can be seen from outer space (yeah, I remember World Cultures). Plus, who really makes money doing things they like anyway? Why not take up a more noble profession? Become a modern-day knight... who gets shot at... and has to do a lot of running. I wouldn't pass any sort of physical test. But at least I wouldn't rent a prostitute... that should give me a leg up on the competition.