I'm a sucker for a man who giggles-not a high-pitched serial-killer sort of giggle, but a lighthearted laugh.

Coldplay was unknown, and we played them over and over and over again, and they were really loyal to us. They went on M2 way after they had broken and become famous, because they remembered us.

Before M2, I really felt self-conscious about some of my choices, and I was slotted into a category. At Rolling Stone, I was the alternative chick, and that was just the way it was. That did break me open a little bit, and that was maybe its legacy. And it's a nice one.

We were really responsive. It was very personalized for the die-hards that did watch, and I thought that would be a big draw, too.

I was 35. I was the oldest female VJ at Viacom ever. I left them, which at least preserved my dignity, because I'm sure they would eventually have kicked me to the curb. I mean, who there is over 35 now? I can't even imagine. On air? I was glad I lasted that long.

What really takes me back is when I'm walking around the Lower East Side, because we went to so many places [there] - the bakery, a mannequin store, all these factories with mice running around. That also is very visceral and takes me back. Pool halls, tattoo parlors, all kinds of stuff like that.

It hit me that being hip was a full-time job, and I was only a part-timer. I couldn't hide forever that I liked county fairs, particularly the goat booth at the 4-H tent, or that I once spent a week with my grandmother at her house in the giant retirement community of Sun City, Arizona, and it was one of the most carefree times of my life.