On the radio – Two women & One goof

I WAS ON THE RADIO!!!

Now, perhaps you are thinking, caps are not really required for this type of thing. I mean really, let’s try to be cool, okay?

But I’m not cool.

I’ve actually never been cool in my entire life and that’s really okay with me.

So when Three Women/Three Books got it’s big radio break and was invited down to the Alan Neal “All in a Day” show on Friday December 9th to plug our upcoming “Tackling Taboos” at Mother Tongue Books, I had a hard time wiping the smile from my face (and keeping my veggie pizza down).

Sure, there might be some other people who would have taken the entire thing in stride. You know, been all, “Whoa, what’s the big deal?” and such, but I’m not like that. Everything to me is a big deal and this childlike quality and vast immaturity is what gives me my charm (or at least that’s what I tell people on dates).

I readied myself for the interview and started out to the station which is only blocks away but didn’t allow for the ridiculous amount of traffic on the streets during rush hour.

More than a few times I considered ditching the car like some damsel in a low budget rom com and running to the radio station in my heels, the wind blowing my hair like a black silk blanket behind me only to remember that the corn on my toe prevents me from being able to walk too fast and if I sweat at all, it would ruin my hair.

Why don’t they write that into the screenplay I wonder?

So I waited in traffic instead.

I parked the car in the big truck spot (my car thinks it’s a big truck even if it is a sedan and I was more than prepared to argue the psychological imbalance of my vehicle should I be ticketed or towed while at the station). I had less than 5 minutes to make it to Queen street.

I darted down the ramps in the garage like some meth-wracked-rat in a maze turning in circles when I saw a young lady staring at me.

“Excuse me?” she said. “Where do you pay for parking in here?”

“What?! What??” I shout back. “I need to get to Queen street! I’m going to be on the radio in 5 minutes!!”

“You are? That’s so cool!” she says with a big smile. “I think Queen is up this way. Go up one floor and go right.”

“Thanks! Sorry I can’t help you with your ticket!” I shout over my shoulder, imagining the aforementioned long black hair is poetically waving bye like a long fluid hand behind me.

Now with three minutes to spare, I get upstairs, run out into the foyer and just like a scene from the above mentioned low budget rom com, I run up to a most dapper dressed man and shout, “Where the hell is Queen street?!?” as ungraciously as any crack-addled street walker might. He smirks and points to the sign over two feet tall above my head that says: “This way to Queen Street”.

I smile and try to catch my breath.

I contemplate running back to give him a big kiss, merely for the movie’s sake, but think better of it when the security guard shoots me a nasty look for clacking my heels on the marble floors and flailing my arms around.

Perhaps I should have kissed him instead.

I made it on time to meet Sandra Nicholls, the picture of calm and collected. I double over in pain trying to catch my breath clutching her by the sleeves of her jacket.

We are led up to the main floor of CBC where I keep yanking on Sandra’s arm to excitedly show her everything I see from the sound equipment to the half moon symbol in the carpet’s floor design.

At no point did I ever try to be cool.

I took pictures of me and Sandra waiting outside the sound booth and whispered to her: “Look! It’s Anderson Cooper!” as some tall white haired man (not Anderson) walked by.

We giggled like school girls.

Nerys Parry was brought up and the trio was complete.

I could barely contain my excitement.

We got into the sound booth and Alan Neal – the epitome of welcoming and professional – warmly smiled at us and shook our hands guiding us to sit down.

I twirled in my chair and practically drooled on myself at all the buttons, lights and sound equipment. I waved to the two ladies (producers I assume) behind the glass window and spun around in my chair. I can only imagine what they thought of me.

Alan was amazing. He was gracious, easy to talk to and not once did I feel nervous or worried. I didn’t realize how at ease I was until after it was over and that was largely due to his incredible professionalism and kindness.

As soon as the microphones were turned off I looked at both women and said, “That was effing fantastic!” Nerys high-fived me for not dropping the F-Bomb on the radio while we were live.

I try to do my part.

The producer was kind enough to take a picture of us after our stint (less than 10 minutes but a buzz that might last me the rest of my life – if not this month at least). And then the three of us dashed off to Mother Tongue books to do a reading and answer questions on taboos.

It was an immensely successful night!

I look back at it now and marvel at the one thing I hadn’t expected my book to give me: brand new adventures!

I had only thought the process of publishing through. The aftermath of what is now following is mind-blasting good times that are cementing a friendship between me and my two new author buddies.

In hindsight, maybe I should have ended the movie by kissing them!

Then again, maybe we’ll save that for when book sales wane and we’re looking to get on TV.

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