"Fame! I'm gonna live foreeeeeeeeeeeeeeever, I'm gonna learn how to fly. FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME..!"

No, you have NOT stumbled back into time and right onto an 80's Music Hit Parade (Would it even be humanly possible to step 'onto' an 80's Hit Parade? Because duh, of course one can step back in time. I do it whenever I run into trouble - which is often - by simply jumping into my bed and assuming fetal position).

The reason for my little manic outburst into song is this: Just after midnight this morning, I was interviewed by a reporter from the SABC (South African Broadcasting Corporation... I'm writing it out in a desperate attempt to lend even more Importance to this story) for an Afrikaans radio station.

Stop laughing! I'm serious!

My prospective notoriety has nothing to do with this blog. Alas, no... although I've heard about people becoming famous for their ability to sing really badly (think William Hung from American Idol), I'm not aware of fame doled out to those of us (me) who manage to slaughter language and the art of writing. If they do, I'm sure I'll be eligible for that and DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME THAT I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH AT WRITING BADLY TO BE AWARDED A PRIZE FOR IT!!!!

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Why on earth the station decided to interview me.

I don't really know either, since it was about my plans for New Year's Eve, and well, I'm such a social butterfly (which is why I'm at this computer at 10:33 in the evening) I don't even HAVE plans for Friday evening.

So I did what I do really well (although not quite as well as writing badly), and I lied. To a reporter. While I was being recorded. During my radio interview. Which is going to be heard by all of South Africa on Friday morning. (Well, at least all South Africans who happen to be tuned in at that exact moment to that exact Afrikaans radio station.)

And I was nervous (since I was lying and all) so I talked reallyreallyfastlikethis and then I became quite breathless butIkeptongoinganyway*gasp*likethis, so I don't remember exactly what I said, except that I talked a lot about sub zero temperatures and spectacular fireworks and lots of fun and dancing and being popular with lots of friends (I TOLD you I was lying) who never leave me high and dry on New Year's Eve when they all go off to exotic and warm places to do exotic and warm things.

And then she asked me about my New Year's resolutions and I told her something lame like: "My New Year's resolution is not to make any New Year's resolutions since I always break them before I even start."

AndthenIcontinuedwiththebreathlessmumblingsaboutexerciseorsomething.

I TOLD you it was lame.

Oh, well. To quote that crazy chick Lady Macbeth: "What 'tis done cannot be undone." Or something like that.

Anyway, I've always been told that I have a face for radio.

So the one question now weighing heavily on my mind is one I'd like to address to Andy Warhol: