date: 11.21.2002
entitled: "Could I Be the Next Christiy Brinkley?"

My friend, Leeann, and I were snagged by some Glamour Magazine photographers today, while walking back from lunch (they were snagging many other off-guard Wall Street workers as well). They convinced us to do an impromptu photo shoot right there on the street. The main characters in the photos were two women dressed in terribly cheesy bridesmaid dresses, one hot pink, and the other turquoise. They were complete with chiffon, lace, and huge, puffy sleeves. So, what we had to do was walk by them and point and jeer, as the guy snapped the photo. They seemed to like our acting skills, because they yelled, �Great! You guys are fantastic�will you just do one more?� We ended up doing about 10 more walk-bys, sometimes adding melodrama, and other times, with much more subtle glances of disgust or amusement. I think I may have gotten a taste of what it�s like to be famous. Or maybe not. Being famous would suck much more than this experience. I�ll bet that rush of being in the spotlight would wear off after a while. Regardless, it was fun. Leeann called me once we were back at our respective desks, and we shared scenarios we wished we had thought of while walking by those women, pretending to jeer. It�s kind of like when you get into an argument � you always think of something you should�ve said that would�ve really kicked �em in the balls � something really clever. Ah well, next photo session, I guess. By the way, I have no idea what issue these photos will be in, if they even choose ours. I wonder if this was a ploy to get people to subscribe, hoping to see their faces on glossy paper, betwixt perfume and tampon ads?

song stuck in my head:

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