Confessions of a Self-Promotion Genius

So today, I finally decided to get hip to the masses and make my MySpace page functional and not quite so ugly. It's been about a year since I created the thing, and other than the effort it took to create a short, squat-looking WeeMee cartoon figure of myself to post there, I have put zero effort into it. ("Symptom of someone with adult ADD: starts multiple projects and never finishes them....") I mean, I always figured that MySpace might as well call itself MyTimeSucker, because to me, that's all it appeared to do. It gave me lots of little info blocks to fill in about myself, allowed me the opportunity to pick a song that represented the essence of moi, and tempted me to waste copious amounts of time scouring the Web for virtual friends so I wouldn't look like a sadsack loser, having only Tom in my friends box.

So, rebel that I am, I avoided my MySpace, figuring I didn't need another timesucker in my life--especially one that might not be worth the suckage.

Time and again, though, my writer friends have since informed me that MySpace works better than a blog when it comes to connecting with readers. They claim MySpace is fun! And yes, they say, it's a timesucker, but it gives you an unprecedented ability to market your books around the world in an instant. Which is a good thing, seeing as book pimping really isn't a strong suit of mine, but, coincidentally, wasting copious amounts of time on the Internet is.

Which brings me once again to the fact that today, after over 12 months of steadfastly ignoring my MySpace page, I got this random, nagging impulse to take a look at it. At which point I discovered that that dorky WeeMee cartoon was still there, and I decided I hated it so much, it had to go. So I started tinkering.

Then, I discovered that the Alana Davis song I chose long ago for my page (aptly titled "Crazy") had been "removed by the artist," so I was compelled to visit her page to find a current selection.

And that's when I decided that I wanted Alana Davis to be my friend. :::cue giant sucking sound here:::

I generally like to think that I would not completely lose my head if I ever met a celebrity. I've had minor brushes with fame, and, for the most part, I've played it cool. I got pulled onto the stage once when watching a standup act by former SNLer and current Weeds star Kevin Nealon in Boston--and I did not lose it. My childhood idol and the original Bionic Woman Lindsay Wagner came into the offices of a magazine for which I used to work, and I was cool as a proverbial cucumber (primarily because I only saw the back of her head and didn't know it was her until she LEFT, thankyouverymuchformercoworkers). George Lopez and Constance Marie seemed to zero in on and greet my brother Tom and me (the lone Latinos!) when we were on a Hollywood studio tour and our group stopped to watch them rehearse for a moment--and again, I was oh, so chill.

(OK, so maybe I waved a little too enthusiastically. And there may have been some jumping up and down. But only a little.)

(And then there was the time I seriously fangirled over author Karen Rose, but she doesn't outwardly cringe whenever I run into her, so maybe I didn't look as psycho to her as I did to myself when I replayed events in my head.)

But Alana Davis? If I ever met Alana Davis, I'd probably blither and sob like a hyperkinetic 14-year-old Sanjaya fan. This is how much I love her music.

So then, after I'd asked Alana Davis to be my friend, I realized that my page looked idiotic, that cartoon WeeMee thing HAD to go, everything in my profile made me sound like a crashing bore, and .... I had zero friends. ZERO. Other than Needy and Possibly Sociopathic Tom, who appears to have taken the time to become everyone's friend.

Hence, the MySpace makeover ... just in case Alana Davis happens to come calling. Of course she will not--and she will probably reject my overture of virtual friendship because my main photo is my current pimpalicious book cover, seeing as I can't take a decent picture to save my life--but hey, a fangirl can dream.

If you are on MySpace and would like to be my virtual friend and help me not look like an idiot to Alana Davis's MySpace lackey, my new and WeeMee-less page can be found here.

And if you have an interesting brush with fame to talk about, that's what the comment button is for!