My old TV station called me up to fill-in the other day.
As excited as I was to leave the world of television just one year ago, I was equally excited to go back for a small dose of it.
So that's just what I did.
I put my big girl panties on and went to work.
My day was made when I walked in the door and saw this crazy nut would be directing the show.
Anyone who dresses like this for a casual night out on the town is bound to be a good time at work:
You better head for the hills when they turn the disco lights on because she just might blind you in all of her sparkled awesomeness.
Katy Perry called. She wants her tour wardrobe back.
I'm glad no one trashed the newsroom handbook I made as executive producer because I somehow forgot everything I used to know.
But my memory was not the problem.
No, my hair was.
It is never a smart idea to go spend a day in the DC humidity before going in to anchor.
That hair was a frizzy force to be reckoned with.
But nothing my super cool polka dot hair straightner couldn't handle.
I just cranked the heat all the way up and let the scent of burnt hair permeate throughout the newsroom.
One of the many reasons they'll probably never ask me back again.
Another: I still take over the make-up counter like I own it.
And I'm pretty sure I left behind a nice layer or two of hairspray gunked powder sprinkled funk for the morning anchor to deal with.
Uh-oh, crazy girl is marking her scripts.
Alright people, it's go time.
I swear I didn't look like an Oompa Loompa on air.
The studio lighting likes to play funny tricks on my camera.
We made it though the show without any major disasters.
A feat considering I haven't anchored a newscast in a year and my brain has turned to mush.
1 whack job + 1 nut job + A bunch of stories about our garbage economy = Best Newscast Ever
Too bad no one actually stays up until 11:00 on a Sunday night to watch.
They don't know what they missin'.