5:48 a.m. - 09.19.2004
non-existent magazine journalist
Sometimes I like to pretend I am being interviewed for a magazine. Like I did something wonderful, became famous, and now people care about the mundane details of my life, right? So sometimes in my head I think about what my answers would be to certain questions. How I would explain my high school years, my relationship with my mother, etc.
I'm sure everyone does stupid stuff like that in the privacy of their own head. You know you talk to yourself while you're in your car, pretending to try and be witty for the Rolling Stone interview (where you're on the cover). Don't tell me you don't!! I know!
No? You don't? Damnit.
So I was pretending today that I was being asked what was in my cd player. I don't know if it was a full interview or just one of those little boxes on the side of a page where they ask like 10 people the same question. Regardless, I was wondering what I would say. I have a 6-cd changer so what 6 would I say? Would I make them up to sound the most well-rounded, cultured, yet not too snobby? Cause I think that's what people do. Or would the guy interviewing me be in my car at the time? Would I have to prove it?
So I ejected all my cds to see if I would look cool for the non-existent magazine journalist that wasn't interviewing me.
(by the way, the more I type, the more I want to stab my eyes out)
And I find that my cd's were actually okay. All except one. Damn you Ricky Martin. Damn you for singing that catchy song about the crazy life.
