Myself: So what’s this all about?

            Me:  The title speaks for itself.

Myself: It does?

            Me: Yes. I, henceforth referred to as Myself will interview my other half,  the author, henceforth referred to as Me.

Myself: Why are we doing this?

            Me:  Because folks are curious about people who write books.

Myself: So this will be different from a journal or a diary?

Me:  Yeah, people respect interview formats, just look at Terry Gross.

Myself: Hey, neither of us know Terry Gross, and believe us, we’re no Terry Gross.

            Me:  Very cute, but tired. Just shut up and do the interview, OK?

Myself: You mean interview Me, Myself, and I, right?

            Me:  Stop right there! No “who’s on first” jokes, OK? This is confusing enough already.

Myself: Whatever. So you think this will lead to more in-depth knowledge about uh…ourselves.

            Me:  Yeah, like an inner dialogue with my inner self.

Myself: Sounds redundant…and very California.

            Me:  How can interviewing yourself not be redundant?  And what’s wrong with California?

Myself: Hey, wait a minute; I ask the questions here, remember!

            Me:  Very good. And I’m the interview-ee, now you’re getting the idea.

Myself: So basically this is just an indulgent self-education exercise.

            Me:  I thought it might be entertaining.

Myself: Ahhh, so you think you’re a gifted writer.

            Me:  Actually, it’s hard for me to think of Me as gifted at anything.

Myself: Low self-esteem, huh?

            Me:  You’re very observant.

Myself: I know Me pretty well, but getting back—why are we really doing this?

            Me: Because nobody but Myself would consider Me important enough to interview.

Myself: Now that’s funny…in a sad kinda way; it’s all a cop out anyway—the best thing about interviews are surprise questions. How can I surprise Me?

            Me:  Good point. You’ll just have to ask tough questions.

Myself: OK…so what do you fear that people will find out about you? 

            Me:  Geez, that’s pretty tough.

Myself: Hey, it’s your format, answer the question!

            Me:  Well…uh…at times I’ve gaped at naked women in girlie mags.

Myself: You’re worried about that!? Hell, the whole world’s become a girlie mag.

            Me:  So that makes it OK?

Myself: Hey, I don’t know, I’m an interviewer not a moralist. Let’s move on; do you have any uh…less common faults?

            Me:  Sometimes I feel a twinge of satisfaction at other people’s failures.                       

Myself: Reprehensible, but very run of the mill. Maybe we should bring out the positive, tell me one of your good attributes.  

               Me: Well…if I sleep with a woman more than three times, I think I should marry her.

Myself: Wait a minute, that’s a Woody Allen line.

            Me:  Yeah, but he only said it, I followed through a few times.

Myself: Anyway, I’m not sure that qualifies as a good attribute.

            Me:  The women I slept with thought it was.

Myself: Hey, that’s sexist—like all that women want is to get married?

            Me:  Maybe I’m just being egotistical.

Myself: Ahh, so you think you’re good in bed.

            Me:  I didn’t say that.

Myself: Which is it then, guilt or vanity? Oh, never mind, both suck, let’s move on...tell me what goals you have?               

            Me:  I have a basketball goal.

Myself: Are you being facetious?

            Me:  A little, but staying in shape is sort of a goal.

Myself: Sounds like you’re just filling up time to avoid anxiety?

Me:  You mean unless I win at something or strive for a handicap, it’s not a goal?

Myself: Afraid to compete, huh?

            Me:  Competition phooey! That’s what’s wrong with the West West; nobody thinks that way in Cuba.

Myself: Do I detect some anger?  

            Me: You brought it up, mi amigo. I’ll just shut up and let you do the interview by yourself.

Myself: Oooh, nasty—so how long have you been passive aggressive? 

            Me:  For as long as I can remember.

Myself: You know, with all that I’m hearing, it makes me wonder if you’ve ever thought about seeking therapy?

            Me:  Sure, who hasn’t; but I’ve never lost touch with reality.

Myself: Some people might say that interviewing yourself qualifies.

            Me:  So fuck’em—maybe I just created a new form of self-therapy like self-hypnosis?               

Myself: I seriously doubt it, but let’s move on; I have noticed that you respond a lot with “sort of, kind of, maybe,”—have you ever thought of yourself as wishy-washy?

            Me: Yeah, I know that’s a problem. Take romance for instance—one time I suggested to my wife that we plan a ceremony and renew our vows.

Myself: Sweet…and how did your wife respond?   

            Me: She said once was enough.

Myself: Ahh, sounds like relationships are a problem…and you’re starting to sound like a victim.           

            Me: And you sound like a shrink!

Myself:  Sorry, I guess I’m role-playing, I’ll lighten up.

            Me:  And I’m a survivor, jerkface, not a victim! And if I want to be psychoanalyzed I’ll pay for it, I won’t do it to entertain Myself!  Maybe this interview was a bad idea.

Myself: No, no, that’s very assertive! Fantastic! You just discovered a hidden strength, that’s so cool!  Okay, so now, uh…how will we empower our new self-image?

            Me:  Stop talking to Myself.

Myself: No, no! That’s a terrible idea!  You don’t want to do that!  Do you?….hello, are you there…hello……hello…….