I sat up in my room, nibbling on a pencil. Normally on a Saturday I would be on the set of The Jenna Cramer Story, my new movie I was in the middle of shooting.

But instead, I was stuck in the boring sea of sameness called Underbird, Colorado. It was as if I was a wildflower in a bed filled with daisies. My creative talents was overflowing, yet Mother insisted on making me stay home to study for finals. It’s not easy being famous AND going to school (private school, granted, but still school).

After finishing up a bunch of projects the previous year, I was ready for the new opportunities awaiting over the horizon. I could almost smell the tuna the fat cameraman’s assistant was eating as I filmed my next scene.

Being famous for me was the best thing I could ask for. I mean, who DOESN ’T want to be the star of their own sitcom on ABC .

My cell rang. I looked at the caller ID, anticipating what it would say. A director? No. A fellow celeb? No. Who, you ask? None other than my clingy ex beau.