Are Zamboni operators the fluffers of the ice skating rink world?

Today I did something I don’t normally do but always wish I’d done. I was sitting down to interview a celebrity and the publicist pulled up a chair, as if the three of us were going to have a little conversation. “Are you going to sit there the whole time?” I asked her. “Yes,” she said plainly. Then the celeb asked me if it made me uncomfortable. “Actually yes it does,” I said. He asked her if she’d give us some space and she did, but not before asking him to tell her if she needs to “red flag” anything from the interview. Sometimes I’ll discover that publicists are listening in on phone interviews, which always rankles the hell out of me, but the publicist sit in, especially when they aren’t even trying to hide it (it’s one thing if they’re sitting nearby listening in, quite another if they’re positioning themselves to be an active member of the interview) is an interview momentum killer, so I’m glad I spoke up.

Need more info about the strike? I think you do. My friend and coworker Jane went down to the frontlines and interviewed a bunch of famous people. Read her fabulous report here. And my friend and real life TV writer Wendy wrote some things about the strike in a neat numbered list here. Plus her blog is funny.

Christmas has exploded inside Starbucks. You can tell because the cups are now Christmasy and there’s more red everywhere and my coffee tasted like elves. Also, I think I heard some holiday music but I couldn’t quite tell from underneath my hat and scarf and also there were general auditory issues created by going from the cold outside to the slightly less cold inside. I remembered when my dad tried in vain to discourage me from moving to New York with tales of how cold it is here and I was thinking how that was so silly because the cold isn’t that dreadful, but the funny thing is that I was thinking this while simultaneously thinking “fuck this fucking fucked weather,” because I was in a good mood, you see. It’s just that it was raining and my jeans were wicking the water toward my skin. Like the opposite of two denim maxi pads. So anyway, if I were to get a pet should I get a bird or a puppy? I think I should get a dog but I keep dreaming about birds. Probably because my life’s like a cage, man. Also because I like to peck at gravel to keep my crop and gizzard running smoothly. I guess that’s all. I’ll be on NBC at 6:45 am tomorrow (locally) and I’m going to be on Montel next week but I’m not sure how soon it airs after taping. I’ll keep you posted. And if you’re my parents and you’re reading this, guess what, I’m going to be on Montel! It’s not that you have to find out from reading my blog, it’s that I thought sharing this news with you on the blog would be a special way for us to catch up!

Oh and one more thing everyone, I tried my hand at a Letterman style top ten list. (This was an actual Letterman topic, but my own list) Here it is:

Top Ten Signs Your Baby is Too Fat

10. doctors tell you he has a “great personality”

9. his stroller keeps getting a flat tire

8. when he was born the doctor said, “congratulations, it’s… enormous!”

7. he’s already in adult diapers

6. during delivery the doctor was overhead saying “forecepts? better make that fivecepts.”

5. he cries till you feed him a strained Whopper

3. when you interview nannies you ask them how much they bench.

2. more reinforcements for the changing table!

1. his nickname is jabba the baby

Wednesdays with Hershel

Chicken Soup for the Groin

Who Moved my Asparagus?

What Color Is Your Parachute? I Don’t Know But the Ground is Getting Really Close So Just Pull the Damn Thing.

Are You There God, It’s Me, Fred, Inventor of Orthopedic Shoes

someone near me has wind chimes, or I’m trapped in a constant state of foreshadowing.

Post it in the comments for use in a future body language segment, won’t you? I will be your best friend. Maybe. Oh and please include name, city and favorite RE moment, if you want. Thanks!