I feel like we’ve become close in recent months, what with me reading your books and watching the most recent season of Tori & Dean. In fact, I just read you latest book Uncharted TerriTori over the weekend so I feel really up to date on your goings on. I was going to do a review of your book but, seeing as we’re BFF and all, I thought maybe it was better if I talk to you personally, Mom-o a Mom-o. And Tori, what I really want to say is this:
Get. Over. Your. Self.
Look, I get it. You’re Tori Spelling and there is baggage that goes along with that. You’ve had to try and break away from your dad’s shadow in a town he all but owned. No one can forget the virginal Donna Martin on your 90210 days. You went broke from buying too many luxury items and no one would cast you in movies. You married the wrong guy. You don’t get along with your mother.
But you’ve effectively come out the other side of all that. You found a better love match, had two cute kids, got a reality tv gig that pays the bills, figured out a couple of other businesses that are making your rich while allowing you a ton of creative satisfaction and flexibility, and you seem to be making things work with your mom. Yay you!
So, quit your bitching, ok?
This latest book of your was a huge wallow in wildly self-indulgent navel gazing. You spent 200+ pages telling us all about how you work too much, want everything to be perfect all the time, feel guilty every second you don’t spend with your kids, and how stressed you are all the time, to the detriment to your marriage and you health. Oh, and you apparently have low self-esteem.
You know what I think you have? Too damn much money. Your book was about the kind of things that most people don’t have the luxury of worrying about because we’re worrying about making sure our mortgage gets paid every month. We don’t get to hare off and pack up an RV for a cross country road trip to redecorate a house for the full-time baby nurse we hired to help us take care of our kids. We don’t have the luxury of spending a day getting bad ju-ju removed from our homes by voodoo priestesses. We don’t get to go have epiphanies with reiki practitioners about how we need to write our own happy endings. At least, not on a weekday because our jobs don’t happen on our schedule – we have to be there from 9-5, Monday through Friday. We don’t get a two months hiatus from our jobs the way you do with shooting your reality show. We don’t have the resources to spend out waiting time at jury duty shopping for designer clothes online the way you did.
You are lucky as hell and most of us working moms would give our left arms to have jobs as flexible as yours.
You always like to say you’re just another working mom so why not try this reality idea on for size: how about you and Dean and the kids move into a modest house in the suburbs of a major city. You and Dean would have to go to regular jobs, using public transportation because parking in town is outside of your budget. You’d spend 11 hours per day working and getting yourself and the kids to and from work and daycare. You’ll make enough money to cover the bills and a few extras like dinners out at Five Guys but forget shopping for new clothes every week. Or every month. Or every season. Forget hair extensions. Forget designer shoes. If you want to redecorate parts of your house, you’ll have to do it yourself, on your own dime. If you want to take a vacation, you’ll have to do it on a schedule that works for both of your jobs and on a budget. If you get sick, you have to go to an in-network doctor because you simply won’t have $900 to spend on energy work or past life regressions. Dean won’t be able to spend all of his free time racing motorcycles because he won’t have the money. How about that for reality? Ready to give it a whirl?
In short Tori, go live a normal life for a while. Compare it to your Hollywood version of normal. Then count your freaking blessings because you are so much better off than anyone else I know.