Yesterday I did something tres embarrassing, which I am only posting about on here because I have the preordained knowledge that no one reads this. Actually, 11 people do. Who are you?
Anyway, I know you're dying to know what I could possibly be embarrassed to admit to; well, here it is, I attended a modeling casting call. As I was walking through the city, trying to find the location, I stumbled upon a building I have long hoped to explore here in Philadelphia. In fact, it might be the landmark I most sought after. I saw it, looming in the distance, and immediately recognized the former home of my all time favorite, 6 strangers, picked to live in house and find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real. So many memories came flooding back to me when I saw the restored bank. I also noticed that a bunch of people were lined up outside, but I simply assumed it was a great photo op. However, after continuing for a ways, I realized that was the very TRUST building that I was looking for. I was going to get to go INSIDE the house! I did get to go inside!
The modeling itself is not something I am keen to share. Suffice it to say I wore heels and had to speak in front of over 200 people. Neither of these speak to any of my talents (swimming and sandwich making, nothing more, nothing less...unless you count blogging, but that's for you, oh Reader, to decide).
But, the bottom line is, that I was in the Real World Philadelphia house. I was barefoot inside the house- they made me take off my shoes to determine that I am, in fact, that ever feared 72 inches in height.
What can you take from this post? Two secrets that should never leave this sacred space: that I once walked a runway and that I am 6 feet tall.
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