Apparently, I'm on the list. The very important person list. Of very important persons to invite to phone call interviews with celebrities. Yep, I'm on the inside now. I'm practically a celebrity myself. I am. You're here aren't you? It must be because I'm a VIP in the circle of CPI (celebrity phone interviews - come on, catch up with the lingo, would ya?).
Never mind that when I got on the line with Uma, she kept hanging up and I never got to ask even one single question. She's the one who missed out. Because I'm almost famous. She's totally sorry.
Forget that my husband threw up in front of Anthony Edwards. Mr. Edwards was still happy to speak with me. Over the moon excited, I tell you. He might have a crush.
Don't even think about Friday, when Jason Schwartzman will be laughing it up with me and my thought provoking interview questions (the likes of, "how do you spell your name?" and "Did you live in a fox hole for a while to prepare for your role?"). Yep. All this VIP/CPI fabulousness just keeps getting better.
And by better, I mean that instead of being ignored and hung up on, or having to fumble for the mute key in the midst of wine-sickness, I'll be driving my dad (who will likely be cranky/hungry/murderous - you'll see why) to his colonoscopy appointment (see? I told you) while I participate in this phone call. That should impress Mr. Schwartzman, no?
I'm totally gonna be famous by the weekend.
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