because life doesn’t fit in a file folder

I’m Going to Be on SURVIVOR!

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Sorry, I didn’t mean to trick you.

But I am going to be on SURVIVOR.

Eventually.

You know, probably.

Because I tried out to be a contestant on SURVIVOR.

Again.

This time auditions were held just 20 minutes away, right outside of Rochester, New York.

{So, of course, I’m thinking this is mine. Because, seriously, why would CBS come to Rochester to hold a casting call if they weren’t there to get me, right?}

I assume there would be thousands of people camped out, waiting for registration, which was scheduled to begin at 11 AM.

In anticipation of looooong lines, I get up early, eat a healthy breakfast, gather up a the necessary provisions – snacks and water — fill up my gas tank, and make the easy drive to Victor. I assume parking will be difficult, so I wear my sneakers. I’m prepared to go the distance.

You can imagine my surprise when I see the short line of people ahead of me.

Like ridiculously short.

The line at 9:30 AM. Super short.

Pulling into the lot, I learn I’ve arrived early enough to be able to park in the lot adjacent to the filming location. When they count us out, I’m #67, one of my favorite numbers.

{You know, ‘cuz I was born in 1967. Confirmation that the Universe is working for me.}

I go to the back of the line where I meet a couple that had driven in from Little Falls, New York (about four hours away), a pharmacy technician named Mindy, a prison guard named CJ , a flaky millennial who has never seen a single a episode of the show before, and some dude who has tried out about 17 times.

“When I have to go to the bathroom, will you guys save my place?” the bearded millennial asks.

We quickly form an alliance and agree to help each other out.

There isn’t much to tell.

The lines get longer.

By noon, there are probably a thousand people waiting to audition. Maybe more.

I wait 2 and ½ hours before being moved into a garage, where I wait some more. There is a nice breeze and a cardboard cutout of Jeff Probst.

Eventually, I make it inside where I hand in my release waiver, stating I allow CBS to use my likeness on social media – or for whatever purpose they like. I provide my phone number and email address.

After that, we go back outside to another area of the garage and, after another wait, we walk back inside. Some of us stand; some of us sit in blue office chairs.

This is the first moment where I start to think about what I will say. I know I have just ONE minute to make my pitch. There is no panel. Just me and a twenty-something wearing trendy thick black glasses.

This is a summary of what I believe I said. Obviously, I was nowhere near this clear or succinct. I did my best to stand in front of the camera and smile and laugh and act natural.

In August of 1999, I saw a trailer for a new show called SURVIVOR, and I was immediately interested: a show like that was right up my alley – physical competition paired with emotional challenges and a social game? Sign me up.

Then I looked down at my ankles, which were super puffy because I was super pregnant (due to deliver any day), and I realized that I wouldn’t be able to participate for a long time. I promised myself that if the show was still on the air when my kid graduated from high school, I was going to try out again.

So here we are, nearly 18 years later. I’ve never missed an episode and I’m making good on my promise. A lot has happened in my life over the last 4 years. I’ve bounced back after a brain injury, which occurred after I was incorrectly weaned off a prescription medication. There’s more to tell, of course – and you’ll have to call me back to Los Angeles if you want to learn more. Suffice it to say I’m funny, flirty, and fit. As a former teacher, I’m a good communicator, which wins me points with adults and makes me relate easily to a younger generation. As far as I’m concerned, you guys came to Rochester to get me. Here I am, pick me.

Trendy black glasses holds up his hand, indicating I have 5 seconds left.

And I break out into a little dance.

{Cuz, you know, I do that.}

Before I leave, an older gentleman tells me that I’ll only receive a phone call if the producers are interested in bringing me out to Los Angeles.

{So you know, any day.}

What did you do yesterday? Or… what show would you like to be on if you didn’t have real life responsibilities?

XOXO

 

Do You Think I Could Survive?

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I don’t watch a lot of television.

But my DVR is set every Thursday night.

I am a Survivor Junkie.

I’ve watched Survivor ever since the very first episode aired back in 2000.

I remember sitting in front of the television, wishing wishing wishing that I wasn’t 7 months pregnant.

I know that sounds terrible, but seriously. Why didn’t that show come out two years earlier?

From that moment on, I’ve dreamed about being on Survivor.

I remember watching the season when the contestants were in Australia. People were severely dehydrated, their beautiful bodies became skeletal. A participant had to be evacuated because of injuries.

And yet.

I still wanted to do it.

Each season has offered surprises.

There have been tribal swaps and fake merges. Sometimes tribes have been divided by gender; sometimes by age, once by race Sometimes both tribes have had to share the same beach. They introduced hidden immunity idols in Survivor Guatemala, and I thought: Freaking Brilliant!

I have watched contestants lie in an effort to win the big prize, and I have watched contestants struggle, trying to remain true to their morals knowing in order to win they would have to break their own personal code of ethics — if they wanted to win.

I have also watched contestants who have played for the love of the game. For those players, it hasn’t been about the money. It has been about the adventure.

Each season, I have thought, One day. I will be on that show.

I have applied before.

And I have been rejected.

My husband laughs at me. He says Survivor is played out. He can’t believe I still watch it. My son now watches with me, but he thinks I’d be voted off at the first tribal council.

Nice, right?

The other day, I saw CBS was doing a casting call.

And I thought, My “baby” is 13 years old now.

I can do this.

I want to do this.

So I did.

This is my 4th time.

I’d love to show you the video I sent, but I don’t know if that could get me disqualified.

But I’ll show you that I started out wearing this:

Hi. I’m Renée. I have sparkly glasses…

And then I ended up wearing this:

…but, if vision is optional, I will work the hotness factor.

I really would love to know how I would do in such an intensely physical and mental game.

Right now, I am learning how to make fire without flint.

I’m reading up on all kinds of tips about how to survive out in nature.

Because I want this.

So cross your fingers for me.

Because, as dorky as it sounds, being on Survivor is my 13-year-old dream.

And I’d love to make it come true.

How do you think I’d do? And what ONE luxury item do you think would be wise to bring alone?

tweet me @rasjacobson

Blogger Deb Bryan’s husband was on Survivor and you can be sure that when Deb wrote THIS interview, I sat up and paid attention! Ba.D, you better believe that if I make it through this round, I’m going to find you and ask for tips!