Uh oh! The publicists are maaaaad!
They don’t want me to call him my “roommate” anymore.
It doesn’t matter that we actually are roommates, and have been for many years.
They just don’t want me to call him that! :( They also now want us to say that we were “childhood friends”, and that we are “like brothers”. That’s weird, because we grew up hundreds of miles apart!
I don’t know about you, Diary, but I don’t think meeting someone in my twenties makes them a childhood friend, does it?
Perhaps he was my imaginary childhood friend and I just forgot?
But I don’t mind the part about us being brothers.
Nobody minds if brothers share the same bath… or the same bed. ;)
They also want us to be very careful about the word “partners”, Diary.
Don’t say “partners” anymore.
Say “business partners”. Whew!
I don’t know about you, Diary, but all this wordplay is exhausting!
Maybe I should just let his publicist do all the talking from now on.
I mean, I want to please my boyfriend, but this is ridiculous!
Wait a minute.
Did I just say “boyfriend”?
Oops! I’m probably not supposed to use that word to refer to my lover!
Wait. I probably shouldn’t have said “lover” either. Dang, this is harder than I thought!
Anyway, Diary, it’s time for me to go.
I need to inventory all my old video tapes.
Then I’m going to spend the rest of the day smearing my boyfriend’s roommate’s lover’s partner’s imaginary childhood friend’s soon-to-be-ex-wife.
Busy, busy, busy!