Matt, I've met you uncomposed, and your doofushooditude quotient seemed small.
Ah, but you've never talked to me on the phone, a method of communications that I believe should be reserved for 911 calls and reports of impending family funerals. I'm definitely not at my best with a handset at my ear. But thanks for the kind words.
I was also helped immensely by thinking of you as a friend, and thus someone I need not be nervous around. Joss, on the other hand, if he remembers me at all from PBPs probably thinks of me as that guy that dodged handlers from an assisted living institution to babble at him incoherently.
If Tim and I could have coffee and cigarettes, I could talk. I'd spend a bid-for phone call either hushing my kids, or yelling at them to get off the extension.
Joss, on the other hand, if he remembers me at all from PBPs probably thinks of me as that guy that dodged handlers from an assisted living institution to babble at him incoherently.
No way. He was thinking your voice sounded like velvet.
Joss, on the other hand, if he remembers me at all from PBPs probably thinks of me as that guy that dodged handlers from an assisted living institution to babble at him incoherently.
Well, to be precise, he probably remembers you as that incredibly handsome guy who dodged his assisted-living handlers.
I freeze up something awful. I will freeze up retroactively, even: I did fine my first few weeks of my sophomore-year poetry class, knowing my professor was much published and everything, precisely until I found out that she'd written one of my favorite childhood books, a book that had even been
read out loud on Captain Kangaroo.
Such celebrity! I didn't open my mouth in class for another month.
Actually, I don't think celebrity alone is enough to fluster me. Any geekiness I've shown when talking to actors is my own true personality showing through, not nerves-induced embarrassment. It may be because sex appeal is a big part of their mystique, whereas I'm not resistant to the more cerebrally based admiration of writing talent.
I made a huge fool of myself talking to Nathan Fillion last year and Tricia Helfer this year. I did better with Adam Baldwin (because I'd already cried on Tricia Helfer.)
OLN had this "Ride with Lance (Armstrong)" thing you could win during the Tour de France. It sounded really cool but the whole idea of a world class cyclist being forced to ride with me for an afternoon sounded really unappealing.
Heck, I'm a babbling geek even when talking to non-celebrity types. I know I'd embarrass myself trying to talk to a person whose work I admired. Of course, part of the problem is finding something that's at all meaningful to say in about 30 seconds. I have to rehearse just to have phone conversations with friends, for heaven's sake.
I feel like talking on the phone to someone you don't know is especially weird, since there's no visual, and nothing to talk about except what you think up.
I am convinced I was dorkily fannish to AD at the premiere, by mentioning that I was traumatised by the deaths at the end of Angel. Other than that, I can back away in time to save myself.
