{feeling sheepish}

A few weeks back I was talking to a friend about celebrities.

"I don't care about celebrities very much," I said. "I only care about Jian Ghomeshi and Bill from Freaks and Geeks."

This tells you a little bit about me because Bill from Freaks and Geeks is a teenage geek with huge glasses and massive social awkwardness, and Jian Ghomeshi is, like, forty-something and used to be in the band Moxy Fruvous and in case you've never seen pictures of either of them, here:

I don't even get me.

So, anyway, what I'm trying to say is that, obviously, I don't have, like, crushes on either of them. But I listen to Jian on the CBC pretty much every day and Bill is just...crazy endearing? They just seem like they'd be cool people to say "hi" to in real life. That's all.

But the point is not that.

The point is that a few days later I found out that Jian was coming to my city. I said, jokingly, to my friend that I was going to email him and ask him if he wanted a ride from the airport. Because I live by the airport. Because he's Jian Ghomeshi. Because I'm nice. Because I was mostly joking.

But then I got thinking about it. About how cool it would be if I emailed Jian Ghomeshi and was like, "Hey, Jian Ghomeshi, want a ride from the airport?" and Jian Ghomeshi was like, "Sure. And while you drive, how about I ask you a few questions?" Because my dream is to be interviewed by Jian Ghomeshi. Obviously. Even if he just asked me what my name was. That'd be cool. Best case scenario: he says yes. Worst case scenario...restraining order?

So my friend got really excited and started saying things about how much of a good idea it was. Which then tricked me into thinking it was a good idea too and made me think I hadn't really been joking at all. So I said it to another friend, just to see if it was really a good idea or not, and she nodded her head a lot and said that it was and even patted me on the back a little. So then I thought it was a good idea. I am, apparently, easily swayed by other peoples' opinions. I asked Barclay if he cared and he didn't because he was pretty sure Jian Ghomeshi would say no way. And because he's, like, forty-something.

So I did it.

It was like this:

Dear Jian
Dear Jian Ghomesh
Hey Jian Gho
To Mr. Ghomeshi
Do you want a ride from the a
To Mr. Ghomeshi,
Hi, my name is Suzy. I was wondering if
To Jian 
YO.
Dear Jian, 
Are you sick and tired of taxis and limousines?
Dear Jian, 
I drive a black car. It looks pretty much like a limousine.


Dear Jian, 

My name is Suzy. I’m writing to you from a wee little house in the Cathedral Village of Regina, Saskatchewan where I teach music lessons, write for some local arts websites, and watch episode after episode of Newhart. I’m pretty sure you’re picturing me as a 60 year-old lady with gnarled fingers and a whiskered chin now so I’ll quickly add that I’m 25. Not that it matters. I started a job interviewing musicians for these local arts websites this summer, and in my head, I always pretend I’m you when I’m asking the questions. Is that weird? Yeah. I know. 

 I imagine you’re really busy today, because I imagine you’re really busy every day, so I’ll keep this short: I was wondering if you wanted a ride from the airport to your hotel, or wherever exactly it is that you’re going, when you come here in February. 

Crap. This is probably coming across as really creepy. If someone I didn’t know emailed me offering me a ride to a hotel, I think I’d call the police and my husband (who was probably right, by the way, when he said this was a weird idea but that I could do it anyway if I really wanted to). 

See, the thing is that Regina is kind of a small town—I mean, you know, compared to Toronto. There are, admittedly, some grouchy people but we’re mostly nice and good and hospitable, and my train of thought here, before I saw what it looked like in writing and it completely derailed, was, It would be cool if Jian Ghomeshi had a really sweet experience visiting Regina so that he’d come back more often, or at least for the Juno Awards. 

Anyway. If you’re still reading, here are some references to ensure that I’m not a belligerent psycho with a vendetta against the CBC: 
Theresa Kutarna & Brad Kreutzer, owners of local business, Paper Umbrella: 1-***-***-**** 
Deb Adams, sister in law: 1-***-***-**** 
Barclay Krause, husband: 1-***-***-**** 

And this is a link to my blog so that you can see that I’m little and blonde and probably not the killing type: www.suzykrauseandtheskyscrapers.blogspot.com 

And, last but definitely not least, this is my official and formal apology if this whole thing really, really creeped you out: I’M SORRY. LET’S PRETEND THIS NEVER HAPPENED. I think that covers everything. If you need anything else (restaurant recommendations, coffee shop recommendations, used book store recommendations) let me know.

Suzy Krause 

PS: I've never, ever, been in a car accident, but I'm still not a cocky driver. Just so you know. 
PPS: My car is black, kind of like a limousine.


So, I got an email today, from some public relations person named Ashley, who I didn't write a letter to. She said "thank you" and "no thank you" and "come meet Jian at his book signing" and "see you at the Junos" and stuff like that. And I was like, "Shoot. This was actually a bad idea." My heart broke a little and a cloud stopped just above and rained on me for a bit.

But whatever. There's still Bill.

Also, I'm wearing a wig and big sunglasses to the book signing because I'm so embarrassed about being that fangirl.

{UPDATE: PART 2}