This morning I listened to the following voice mail message from my father, left last night around 9pm:
"Hey, Lady Z! This is Greg from Riverdale. Where are you? I just listened to an awful set of music, hoping it wasn't you, and yet wishing it were you.... You need to let me know when you're not going to be on the air. Trick or treat!"
To Greg from Riverdale and other loyal Pop Tarts, I extend my apologies. I did in fact take Halloween off to catch the finale of the Girl & a Gun Halloween Film Festival—and then I couldn't even last through that, I was so tired from an accumulation of work and moving. (Derek just moved in. Between work and film fests and The Move, the past couple weeks have been rough on both of us.) I did manage to catch a few minutes of what was playing on KXUA during my usual slot, and it was indeed awful. I had to cleanse my brain with the country music station.
But last night I did manage to have what might be the greatest dream in a long career of dreaming:
It's a teaching day, and I decide to cancel my afternoon class because I have no idea what I'm supposed to be teaching. But when I go to the classroom to send the students home, I see that the classroom is set up for a major karaoke event—screens and speakers everywhere, and a group of my students already in the middle of a tightly choreographed song-and-dance routine to Bell Biv DeVoe's "Poison." So I decide to hang around for a while, and then I notice that Justin Timberlake, who is one of my students, is up next, and he's signed up for a Timbaland-Nelly Furtado duet called "Gena (Oh Gena Gena Gena)," and he wants me to join him in the "karaoke chair" (a part of the karaoke ritual in my dream-world) and sing the duet with him, which I do, even though it seems to push the boundaries of professorial appropriateness, because, honestly, how often does a girl get to get in the karaoke chair with JT and be serenaded? And after the song wraps up, I say, "Thanks JT," and he points out that the open bar is ready in the hallway and asks if he can buy me a drink, and I realize that this is the BEST CLASS EVER, but I'm still on the job so I say, "Well, I'm not sure it would be appropriate for a current student to buy me a drink," and he says, "Ok, then will
you buy
me a drink?" and I say, "Absolutely."
And that's why they call me The Pop Tart.