Mould was a writer for the WWF (or one of those groups) for a while

That's hilarious! If I'd known I'm sure I would have brought it up.

Yep, I'm torn between wanting to connect with the celebrity (because that connection between their work and my life is why I'm interested in that celebrity in the first place, y'know), and embarrassment at acting like that. When I talk to a person like that, even though I should know better, I find myself trying to interest this person in talking with me. It never occurs to me until later that there's guys like me in every single damn college town these people visit. It's hubris to think that I'm such a world-historical fun guy to hang out with, but it's absolutely debilitating to my creative outlets to go around thinking of myself as small fish/small fry. I think a lot about trying to live by the Tao, but, unfortunately, sometimes I'm an ego monster (consider the number of appearances in this paragraph of "I" and "me") and sometimes I'm meek as a country mouse. Hell, I'm embarrassed about this kind of navel-gazing -- it surely isn't good for anyone -- but, by the same token, if I don't indulge in some navel-gazing occasionally, I'll never figure anything out. And the fact that this type of narcissistic ego-watching is set off by unsuccessfully trying to connect with a minor celebrity says quite a bit about how much I need to figure out, I think.

Damn, I'd be completely thrown for a loop by meeting Bob Mould. Mike Watt's the only punk rock hero I've met who's ever been human enough to make me feel at ease.

I do indeed work at the Coffee Company That Ate the World's headquarters. I'm in the Benefits department.

I wasn't embarrassed. I was pleased that I was able to form a coherent sentence, and I was obviously extremely gleeful to be talking to and hugging the man, but embarrassed wasn't the word. I wasn't even embarrassed when I ran back down to my department and bounced and squealed up and down the cubicles for an hour!

Alicia, that's so cool! Dude! And it's a great picture of the both of you.

I once broke down crying in front of Nerissa & Katryna Nields. That was pretty damn embarrassing.

Alicia, you look unembarrassed in that picture. In fact, you look very, very happy.

And I told him how super-fit he was looking (he was! looked way fitter than he did 20-ish years ago). So he was telling me about his workout regime. So, it was funny becuase he was having a fairly normal conversation and I was all bug-eyed, sputtering, over-sharing fangurl.

He's talked a lot about his workout regime in his blog.

Like Lyra, I would tend not to approach celebrities because I wouldn't have anything to say to them. I tend to get all shy with even actors I know when I am in awe of their work. I once worked for four months on a show with a guy who did one of the best performances I have ever seen on stage, and I always felt too embarrassed to tell him how great I thought he was.

The thing is that all the performers I know never tire of the compliments. Maybe the big, big stars do, but the regular working performers love it.

Mike Watt's the only punk rock hero I've met who's ever been human enough to make me feel at ease

Bob Mould was completely down-to-earth and nice. I was just very, very excited to be meeting him.

I had dinner with the Nields once. At a restaurant at a table with a load of people so I didn't talk to them at all. It was during a radio industry convention I tagged along to with a friend. I didn't really know who they were but one of their members, a bald-headed guy, looked so much like my ex-boyfriend that it freaked me out some. We ended up staring at each other a lot during the meal. (Me because of the freaky resemblance thing, him because of me staring probably)

Didn't get to see the Decemberists. Bad intelligence reports led us to believe it hadn't sold out well in advance when it had. This required much subsequent drinking to get over. I need water.

Awww, sorry Mr. Broom.

I would try really really hard NOT to squee and stop breathing, which means I'd probably blush and stammer and say something nonsensical, then bounce about 10 feet in the air as soon as I was done talking to him.

I got deeply (though not weirdly) shy and tongue-tied bumping into DJ Bonebrake, the drummer from X, in a record store. I did feel compelled to choke out, "Your music changed my life" because I felt like I owed him that much. It's not like X ever had a platinum album, so they should know they mattered.