Fairy God Mother, make me a real writer

So I found out today that I'm not a real writer. I don't store vast amounts of useless knowledge and spew it at dinner parties..."Well actually the Incas..." I don't have any addictions to coffee, cigarettes or alcohol. I do look at the odds of getting published as daunting (but still possible) I don't read the New York Times Book Review. It's official I'm an empty dreamer, according to Writer's Digest. Why of all the books in all the bookstores did I have to pick that one? (Casablanca. Hey! I do store useless knowledge. Poof! I'm a writer.) This is a writer's magazine. Why in the hell would they make a survey like that - we ALL cheat on those Cosmo quizzes so why not this one? (Oh I forgot one. I don't break out into hives when I see a punctuation error.) But lots of waiters call themselves actors, even if they aren't in major motion pictures yet, so I figure I can call myself a writer, even if it is just a blog and a book review here and there.