02 11 / 2011
Have you ever watched trashy daytime talk shows and thought “how did you arrive at that point in your life?”. I did. I still do. I will always wonder how I got roped into being on Maury, how I ended up being bought and sold to the public. I will always remember standing backstage and going “why am I even here?”
Maury I mostly knew it for its DNA tests, crazy celebration dances and almost Jerry Springer-esque fighting. I had only watched it a few times before I actually ended up there. I usually have better things to do during the day, like watching paint dry, or like actually being at work. The truth is, I used that as a way to cheer myself up; at least I would never be as dramatic and horrible as those people.
Yet the surreal image of walking onto the set and staring out at the audience, who probably felt the same way I did when I watched it on TV, will forever be ingrained in my mind. Any time I truly hate my life, I can look back and go “well, at least it’s not as bad as that time on Maury”.
It’s a difficult thing to come back from, after all, Maury is about as dead end as you can get. You can practically tell your life has reached a horrible point when you actually have to step back and go “wow, I was just on Maury…. Now what?”. I pondered this question for weeks after.
So, here it is. The story of how one young Canadian girl ended up on an American day time talk show.
This is the story of how my life ended with Maury.
01 11 / 2011
This is the entirely fictional story of how I ended up on Maury. I have never been on Maury, and I sincerely hope I never am. Especially not in the way you are about to read.
It came from an incredible twitter conversation with a friend who was giving me ideas on ways to get to England, when we realized that once you get on Maury, where does life go from there?
This is a difficult story of a girl from Toronto, Ontario, Canada reaching the lowest point in her life. This is the fictional story of how I don’t end up in England.
The true story is: I made enough money to go to England, visit Liverpool and see my favourite team play. The real ending is happy. This story? Probably not so much.
Seriously, this story is entirely made up.