To Be Famous

This was for an article in the Company Newsletter.

I just watched the Oscars. I’d like to be famous. I think I’d look lovely in a vintage Oscar de la Renta. Have you heard me in a SOX walkthrough? I could easily bring home a Best Supporting Actress.

As I Google famous movie quotes this late Sunday evening, I reminisce over some of my career-defining quotes. While dressing as Braveheart’s William Wallace brought a sense of dignity and gravity to the meeting, my belting out “Freedom” mid-walkthrough proved more uncomfortable for the client than I had anticipated. And while, everyone loved my “Life is like a box of chocolates” quote at the weekly status meeting, they seemed rather grossed out when I arrived the next week with Darryl Hanna mermaid garb. Of course Splash was never critically acclaimed; I just wanted an excuse to for not washing my hair for a week and reeking of seaweed.

And so here I sit. Pondering – how can I reach the red carpet? How can I become famous? A couple initiatives I am working on:

I added TMZ to the speed dial at work. Whenever, I do something noteworthy, I have my first year report it to TMZ. “I just spotted Tara Hagan at 49th and Park on the 11th floor creating leadsheets.” “It looks like Tara Hagan was released from rehab, and the first thing she went back to was substantive analytical procedures. It looks like a relapse.” “She just shaved her head.”

I start crazy dating rumors about myself and send them into the tabloids – Photoshop concoctions of me at my desk with Robert Downey Jr. hanging off my arm, me copying bank statements while Hugh Jackman lovingly admires my ability to collate, me reading the file check report over brunch at Per Se with Perfect Strangers’ Bronson Pinchot. It sounds far-fetched now, but when you’re reading it on Perez next month, you’ll be upset you didn’t think of it first.

I know these two tricks might not get me anywhere, but if you Google famous accountants, you’ll discover John Grisham and Kenny G. I figure, this column counts for writing; I just need to take up the sax, and I should be set on becoming the most famous accountant in the world. Watch yourselves, paparazzi. Consider my workpaper sign-offs autographs.