interview title: FallingInterview Date: 2001-08-01
Interview source: by Michelle
this *NSYNC interview
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to begin? I should start off with the obligatory "Melynee is the devil." Should.
Because it's all her fault. But, oddly enough, Amanda once had the audacity to
blame moi for the *NSYNC hellhole we have fallen into. I'm really not sure why,
since I could never be that evil, but she seemed to think it had something to
do with me blathering on and on about "Bye Bye Bye" in email after
email after email after email after...
It's probably true. I have been known to do this. But I would just like to
point out that I did NOT bring MSG to Las Vegas, and I did not even really
like them until I had seen MSG for, like, the 10th time that weekend. I resisted
man, I really did.
It was just fate that my room faced the jumbotron. Mmmmm...big-ass Justin,
every ten minutes across the strip. Boo-ti-ful.
So, really, yeah - still Melynee's fault. I wasn't always like this. I used
to mock *NSYNC. More so than now - and without my current "Why do I love
these fuckers?" confusion. It was straight out, "Ha ha ha, LISTEN
to them, have you even paid attention to their lyrics" mockage. Life was
so much simpler then. *sigh* I miss it. I remember picking up one of my sister's
teenie magazines - because lord knows I would never buy one of those rags -
once. Inside was an *NSYNC interview where The Boys were talking about how
girls would try to jump up and grab Justin when he flew out over the audience
in his stupid white jump suit. I wanted to know who would want to grab Justin.
The irony of this is just killing me. Really. Killing me.
So, where to begin? Relive my glory days - think fondly of a time when I harassed
my younger sister and questioned her coolness factor, rather than the other
way around? Remember the days when I was unable to distinguish between *NSYNC
and the BSB? Wonder how I ever lived with no clue as to who was who?
Well folks, those days are gone. And it's best not to dwell on them. Nostalgia's
a bitch, and I'm just not up for that. So let's dive on in, shall we? What
did it, you ask? What made me crumble in my mid-20's like a sand castle stomped
by some little bored brute? How could I fall prey to *NSYNC? ME? She who managed
to completely resist NKOTB as a teenager? There's no real answer for that puzzling
conundrum. Believe me, I've had many a late night trying to figure that one
out. I've given up; there is no sense to the universe. I accept this. Perhaps
it was something as simple as the lack of overalls...at least, after the first
few years. Oh, I've seen the pictures. Awful doesn't describe it. But at least
they knew when to give them up.
So it wasn't their fashion sense. As previously hinted at, it wasn't their
lyrics. It wasn't even the dancing - not at first. I'd say it was the release
of BBB that did it. There was just something so fucking catchy about it. The
fuckers. I still think they put subliminal messages in the music. There's no
way I should've found it as irresistible as I did. Oh, I hid it for a long
time - in my apartment liking *NSYNC is a ticket to Sofa City. I laughed at
the song. I defied their clever mind-control by changing the channel time and
time again. But then, it got harder and harder to change the channel. If alone,
I'd listen and sing along. Being stared at by a total stranger as I emoted
and punched to the song at a stoplight didn't even dampen my enthusiasm.
That really should've been a warning sign. I should've sought out help. But,
as noted before, my friends aren't exactly helpful in the sanity department.
No, in fact, the motherfuckers encouraged it and made it a million times worse.
I'm still trying to figure out how to thank them properly.
I still might have been okay. There was the addiction to "Bye Bye Bye," but
I really didn't feel the need to own the CD, and I was only the teensiest bit
sad when I had to change the channel to save face. The SNL appearance poked
but a small hole in the dam - but hell, even Amy was smitten with them after
that. Then I went to Vegas. And all hell broke loose. Melynee arrived. Armed.
After repeated viewings of MSG, there really wasn't much point to resisting.
I also believe they put subliminal messages in their dancing. They must. I'm
sure those hips are spelling out something...oh, shut up. It makes me feel
better. So there was the practicing, the dancing, the people with cameras taking
pictures, the karaoke booth incident, which we're not going to dwell on. I
still get the shakes when I think of the rather large crowd that stood outside
of the booth and watched us make the Tape That Doesn't Exist. I repress things
for a reason, yo. How bad could this Tape That Doesn't Exist of us not-singing
and not-dancing to "Bye Bye Bye" possibly not be? Amanda and I ran
like sissy-girls. That's how bad. And we're going to leave it at that.
All my bitching aside, it was incredibly fucking fun. I don't think I've laughed
more in my entire life. Certainly not while running at such speeds through
more than one casino. Certainly not. So I may hate The Boys, and curse them
for my new uncontrollable urges to buy ridiculous merchandise (a glowing Justin
heart necklace, anyone?) and for being the gateway drug to ludicrous pop, but
I hate because I love.
And because I just can't help myself. I'm sick. I need help. But until such
a time comes when I no longer find their antics amusing and cute, or someone
develops a hell of a 12-step program that doesn't require shock therapy, I'm
going to enjoy myself here.