I just have a couple of amusing stories.
My manager used to share an office with a
bunch of music publicists. One day, one of the publicists was in the
office and told him about her ex-boyfriend who had a random theory of
people wearing leather jackets on planes surviving plane crashes and
airline explosions. A TWA flight happened to have crashed over Long
Island Sound and the ex-boyfriend attempted to apply his theory to
this disaster. He said that he didn't understand why people were so
stupid; he said that every time he gets on a plane, he wears a black
leather jacket. That way if the the plane goes down, once he hits the
water, he won't catch on fire and survive the crash because it was
flame retardant. They all looked at him bewildered. Later, they were
showing footage on the news of the TWA wreckage. All of the sudden, a
black leather jacket floats up to the top of the water. Without missing
a beat, the ex-boyfriend says: TOLD YOU!
I was an awkward
ugly kid. Who the hell isn't? I was gangly and had frizzy hair and
braces and a bazillion freckles. When I was 23 I shared an apartment on
St. Mark's in NYC with a friend. We had a picture of me at awkward age
12 up on our fridge, because it was goofy and we thought it was funny.
One day this really hot guy comes over to the apartment. He's older and
really aloof and hot as fuck. He starts looking around the apartment
and then moves his way to the kitchen. The he says: “Hey Marnie, Why do
you have a picture of Anthony Michael Hall on your refrigerator?”
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
When I was 22, I decided to try and move out to
Los Angeles for a change. My mother wanted to come for the drive, and
so that summer we drove cross country together. I've always been
panicky and nervous because she has always been valiant and brave.
She's like Super Dave (who by the way, always bugged me when I was a
kid). So we are a couple of days into our trip in the midwest when I
see really bad weather on the horizon. She says “Marnie, you are such a
baby. It's just some clouds. Relax.” The weather gets worse and the sky
is turning a crazy ass shade of green. She sees that I am scared, so
she says “If you're so nervous, then turn on the radio. If something is
wrong, they'll mention it.” I turn on the radio and I hear a looped
recording repeating “This is a tornado warning. If you are nearing
Grand Banks, pull your car over to the side of the road and lie in a
ditch”. Seriously. Repeating over and over. I say “Okay, pull over!”
She says “Marnie, are you CRAZY? I'm not gonna get stuck in this
tornado. WE CAN BEAT IT! We're in a high precision automobile, just
hold on.” I said “We can do WHAT?” Are you insane? Let me out of the
car.” She ignores me, and as I turn my head to the side, I can see the
tornado moving beside us. So of course, now I'm having a full on panic
attack and my body gets numb and I watch the speedometer on the car
start to rise until we are going 130. And my head keeps turning between
the tornado and the speedometer. Tornado, speedometer. Tornado,
speedometer. I shit you not! So 6,000 years go by (probably 15 or 20
minutes) and I slowly watch the tornado disappear into the background
and it's like we're in the Wizard Of Fucking Oz, because all of the
sudden, the sun comes out and the birds are chirping. We pull into a
gas station and the car rattles for a second, and then completely dies.
But that baby sure did pump out the jams when we needed her. Also, my
mom's insane. I probably went into music because I couldn't figure out
any other way to try and be as bad ass as she is.
My last
thought is that one time I went to walk my dog and get coffee at Dunkin
Donuts. It wasn't until I got home and sat down to work on a song that
I realized my dog wasn't there and she was still tied up outside the
store. Don't call animal control.
