So, have just finished doing an email-based interview with The Bolton News. I know what you're thinking - I have officially arrived. Soon I will have the New Yorker banging on my door asking for my comment on some new infidelity scandal. And I will push them to my publicist because I'm having a manicure with Monica Lewinsky.
This is what I dream about while sat in my sad little office, pasting Philadelphia onto a Sainsbury's own-brand rice cracker.
One thing I do find funny about journos is how they always seem to want you to be fully identified. I had spoken to several over the course of this year, and at some point, the following exchange always ensues:
"So, it would be great to get a picture..."
"Yes, I'm sure it would. Unfortunately I'm trying to keep my affair a secret, so that won't be possible."
"Okay Michelle. Is that your real name, Michelle Sutton?"
"No, no...of course not."
"What is your real name?"
"Well, we'd really like to use your real name in the piece..."
"No, sorry. Like I said. I am married and I do not want my husband to find out about my affair so you won't be getting those details from me."
"Okay. This lover of yours...James is it? What's his full name? Do you have any picture of him?"
"*Audibly bangs head against wall*"
"Ahhh, right. Sorry."
I completely understand why a newspaper want to have a photo and a real name - it makes the story so much more immersive. But, in truth, why would a MARRIED WOMAN, having AN AFFAIR IN SECRET, want to identify herself in a LOCAL NEWSPAPER? Yeah, I don't know either. I put so much effort into keeping James under my...hat. I don't want some local rag outing me to everyone and his wife. And their lover.
I have realised this has turned into a bit of a rant. In order to counteract the negatively of the last two paragraphs, I am going to paste an image of something cute. To reset the balance.
Disturbingly, if you search the word 'cute' on Google image search, the following image is the first result...
I have a lot of words to describe that picture. 'Cute' isn't one of them. I apologise to any arachnophobics I might have unnerved. Nothing in more terrifying than seeing the head of something cute pasted on the body of something terrifying. Like seeing Johnny Depp's jewel of a head on Simon Cowell's high-waisted, smug record-exec torso. Shudder.
In conclusion, any Bolton bloggers out there, keep an eye out for said interview. I haven't got a date yet, and knowing locals, I probably won't get one...so keep your peepers peeled.
I realise my dream of becoming a world-renowned infidelity expert is, at the moment, far from realistic. So in the meantime, humor me.