Marie Osmond and I have the same birthday (and Cash and Matt).

And my father, and the aforementioned British Prime Minister.

That's awesome. I saw a former soap actor (he was a spectator) at a play one night; he had performed himself in the previous play put on, and he was GREAT. But I was too shy to say that to him. Oh, well. Now, I probably would. Who doesn't like to hear, "Hey, you were great in/at_________________!"

Most of my celebrity encounters, aside from fan conventions, have been at the strip club. Most notably, I met Lou Diamond Phillips. He was touring with his band at the time, and invited me and my friend Mickey backstage. He and his guys were all perfect gentlemen. I still have a Polaroid somewhere of me standing next to him, wearing a green teddy and lots of lipstick.

I met Billie Jean King when I was going through a tennis phase. Everyone else I can think of is baseball related of varying levels of fame. I've danced with Vida Blue, hung out with Dontrelle Willis (and his mom), and chatted with David Stewart about his sister who cared for my mom (I forget the exact capacity now - want to say phlebotomist).

Heh, I asnwered the phone once and spoke to Jerry Bruckheimer, he called to yell at my ex-boss. It was not fun in the least.

I served Joe DiMaggio popcorn at a movie theater. He'd brought a couple of young relatives to see The Jungle Book, if memory serves.

Who doesn't like to hear, "Hey, you were great in/at_________________!"

My issue was that I'd go up to people and say "Nice ______ but your _______ was a bit weak."

My mother had a tendency of going "You know who you should date?" And then she'd name some dreadfully eligible black English guy of Jamaican extract, and I'd die of mortification, and then five years later I'd kick myself. She knew the oddest parents.

But then she'd often randomly pipe up with guys she'd dated, like Gil Scott Heron band members. My mother is such a prude, you don't even know. What she was doing hanging around the forefather of American rap I can't imagine.

Accidentally, or did he just move too fast? (I know you weren't aiming for the spaniel, of course.)

Ha. No, I definitely was not aiming for any of them.

I was gutting it up the north side of the Capitol with my head down. He was running down the Hill. His eyes looked closed to me, but with him you can never tell.

We both looked up in time to veer off. No blood was let and no pups were crushed.

Phew.

I have no problem keeping my emotions in check at work for the most part--I have heard that this is often the case with adult children of alcoholics.

Oooh, I fail HARD at that one. My emotions are all over the place, and when I get frustrated I cry, which pisses me off.

We learn early to put on a competent and calm face for protection or maybe because everyone around us is without boundaries and someone needs to draw he line. It turns out this skill is very useful in a work environment. Also useful in emergencies or in sickrooms.

It's possible Big!Boss knows how to push my ACOA buttons since he is an ACOA and, I'm reasonably sure, a dry drunk.

OTHER people I'm okay with -- our incompetent webhost, for example, just makes me angry and so I get all steely voice stern with them. But Big!Boss does the shit where he says one thing one month and the next month loses his shit at us for doing it because we should KNOW that we should NEVER do it. That crap is classic alcoholic parent bullshit. When you can't count on your authority figure to be consistent, and you get punished for it, well, it still pushes my buttons.

My issue was that I'd go up to people and say "Nice ______ but your _______ was a bit weak."

Heh.

Unrelatedly, I'm watching Wire in the Blood on Netflix, which is excellent, though really hard to take at many points. It's a near thing. Robson Green, I do enjoy you. And the female lead whose name I can't recall.