Glad to be on solid ground
I've spent at least four hours on public transportation today. At least. As I was never any farther than maybe a 10-mile radius from my apartment, this is depressing.
And you would be growing up when?
So I spent that long on various buses and subways because I had to go to Jersey to set up a photo shoot, return to the city for an interview with the aforementioned pop punk band, go back to Jersey for more photo shoot preperations, and then finally come back to the city. Even writing that sentence makes me tired. It all went relatively well, even though I was so crazed and stressed by the end of the day that I ended up gorging on chocolate with our photo editor to calm down. (Hey, we had to buy it for the photo shoot ...) The main thing I learned today is that apparently being in a semi-famous band means you get to make as many dirty jokes and comments as you want during interviews, even if it's for a magazine for 10-year-old girls and you're 26. I tried to look all disapproving and get them back on track, but one of them would just lean over and touch my knee and assure me they were only joking. It's not that they were jerks. Really, I think they would have been fun to go get a drink with, but I'm just trying to do my job here, people. Would you mind making it a little easier? I'm really not going to be able to work that debate on Mischa Barton's breast size into my next sidebar. Thanks!
I've spent at least four hours on public transportation today. At least. As I was never any farther than maybe a 10-mile radius from my apartment, this is depressing.
And you would be growing up when?
So I spent that long on various buses and subways because I had to go to Jersey to set up a photo shoot, return to the city for an interview with the aforementioned pop punk band, go back to Jersey for more photo shoot preperations, and then finally come back to the city. Even writing that sentence makes me tired. It all went relatively well, even though I was so crazed and stressed by the end of the day that I ended up gorging on chocolate with our photo editor to calm down. (Hey, we had to buy it for the photo shoot ...) The main thing I learned today is that apparently being in a semi-famous band means you get to make as many dirty jokes and comments as you want during interviews, even if it's for a magazine for 10-year-old girls and you're 26. I tried to look all disapproving and get them back on track, but one of them would just lean over and touch my knee and assure me they were only joking. It's not that they were jerks. Really, I think they would have been fun to go get a drink with, but I'm just trying to do my job here, people. Would you mind making it a little easier? I'm really not going to be able to work that debate on Mischa Barton's breast size into my next sidebar. Thanks!
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