I was old enough to want it but younger than I wanted to be.

The university's housing department is comprised of possibly the most incompetent, useless people in all creation. The ex wants to be friends. I mostly don't. Symbiosis is the word of the day, and this ain't it. Thai food is only made better when they take me seriously about wanting it appropriately spicy. Miranda and Starbucks are a fantastic balm after a chafing week.

Fannish roundup:

- Lance looked lickably dorky in his interviews today. Still don't know what he said, but damn did that jacket do him favors in the process. Good to see him back on the publicity circuit.

- JC's liner notes are darling. Gracious, precious boy. *snogs him* I'm still so geeked about having met Adam, though. Boy keeps good company.

- Wait. We've got an album release in less than a week, almost more appearances scheduled than our TiVos can handle, snowboarding!Justin to ogle, Lance confirming (for the thousandth time, but confirming nonetheless) there will be, without question, another *NSYNC project, Joey's midnight CD release party in Orlando to anticipate, a slippery Chrissofer to watch out for, yet we're kerfuffling about:

( A sloppy gossip columnist (no, not journalist...) )

Oh, right. *cracks knuckles* ( The album leak. )

So sad that I won't make the volleyball tourney in Miami this weekend. It's five hours though, and Miami, and no guarantees. Instead, I get to cover a step show tomorrow afternoon (my first official story assignment, whee!) and throw together a last-minute costume for a Rappers and Rock Stars party being thrown by my copy desk chief. Good, if hectic, times.

Mostly, I'm just so happy everyone from People to Rolling Stone to Entertainment Weekly is loving on JC for the album. I keep having to check myself from singing we didn't finish 'til we hit the kitchen counter or whistling along to the interlude in Something Special out loud in the office. Every song has that kind of engaging quality though. That's what I love most about this album - there's something distinctly compelling about every track.

This reminds me of getting my car sophomore year.

How did I ever go to an event without press credentials?

Free admission, VIP seating and access, super-friendly security, accommodating and eager staff, and the utmost courtesy even from the bigwigs who are otherwise curtly rude and/or dismissive to everyone else. The awesome power of those words, "She's press," man. People make phone calls, listen, offer you amenities, want to shake your hand and introduce themselves - it's fantastic! And the ones who were gonna mess with you hold up their hands and take steps back when you flash the laminated rectangle. Respect the badge, yo. Press corps represent!

Ahem. So, yes. It's the only way to fly.