Lessons Learned from a Lauren Conrad Book Signing

1. It is probably not worth it to attend a Lauren Conrad book signing unless it is taking place next door to your house or you are a Lauren Conrad superfan.  This particular book signing was at The Grove, which is not near my house.  (Incidentally, whenever I am at The Grove, I think I am going to run into Katie Holmes because I feel like I am constantly seeing paparazzi photos of her and Suri at American Girl Place. They seem to really enjoy it there.  I have yet to see Katie Holmes at The Grove, but I know it will happen someday.)

I am also not an LC superfan.  In fact, while I wanted to blog about this thing, I thought of framing it like “Oh, I happened to be at The Grove and happened into this signing…”  But, no.  Let’s be honest here.  I went on purpose.  My reasons for doing this are as follows: a) I wanted to see what Lauren would be wearing, b) I’m curious about her book, and c) I had nothing better to do.  One’s standards for how one spends one’s time drop quite a bit when one has no job.

I do like Lauren, though, and I like her more as the years go on mostly because she is one of the few “reality” stars who stretches herself and does things that are worthwhile instead of just appearing on “I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here” and the like.

However, going to The Grove takes forever during rush hour.

2) People LOVE Lauren Conrad.  When I arrived at the Barnes & Noble, there was a line completely around the block.  It was reminiscent of the line I waited in to attend a taping of “The Price Is Right,” which gave me some post-traumatic stress flashbacks.  Most of the fans were girls around 19 or 20 and they had styled themselves to look a lot like Lauren.  How amazing it would be to have that kind of influence that legions of young women imitate you.  They were all SO EXCITED, too.

Upon seeing the line, I gave up on the idea of getting the book signed because while I am bored, I am also lazy.  But I went inside to check out the scene which brings me to:

3) The paparazzi community is pretty interesting and weird.  One parazzo started heckling another paparazzo and they all seemed to have a love/hate relationship with one another. While they were competitive, they also had a kind of rapport between them and were comparing notes about other events.  (”This is way bigger than the Mario Lopez signing!”)  It did make me reflect on the fact that while we all think they are pretty heinous and annoying, they are just people like the rest of us who probably hate their jobs.

4) In person, LC really does look like a Disney princess.

5) The people at Barnes & Noble do NOT care about what I am buying.  I can be sort of insecure and whenever I am buying something embarassing, I always comment on it to the cashier.  I need to stop because they don’t care and my commenting on it just makes it worse.  The guy’s ringing me up and I’m loudly like, “Haha! I can’t believe I am buying this! It’s for my little sister, actually! I’m reading something way smarter!”  and he just stared at me blankly.  I actually looked around to find an intellectual book to buy, as well, in order to save face, but realized that was stupid.  Why do I care what B&N employees think of me?!

6) I am actually really glad I bought a copy of “L.A. Candy.”  It looks awesome.

Status Update

A few months ago, when I was still working full time and not sporadically in my pajamas, I thought to myself, “Self, you are spending too much time on Facebook.”  And I’d set little goals for myself in order to decrease my time on the site.  I’d wait until after lunch to check it, try to stay away from it when I got home from work, etc.  However, then I found myself unemployed, and all of my positive Facebook-related intentions went out the window.  The first thing I do when I get up in the morning (besides brew a pot of coffee) is check my email and check Facebook.  I often just leave it open while I am doing other things, as it sort of allows me to pretend that I’m in a social space. (I miss having an office to go to.)

I have recently started telling stories to friends and family members that begin with, “So on Facebook today…”  It has become less a website and more an actual place where things happen.  Which I suppose it is, really.  I can say “hi” to former coworkers, friends, family members; I can participate in topical discussions and share things that I think are amusing.  Facebook is essentially a way to participate in the public sphere without ever leaving my laptop.  In some ways, engaging in social media sites like Twitter and Facebook is more “social” than going to hang out at a coffee shop.  The things I say on Facebook  reach an audience of almost 200 people, after all.

I had intended to make this sort of a funny post about my Facebook addiction, but it’s actually made me think a lot.  Now that I am unemployed/working from home, I spend a lot more time alone than I used to.  I don’t mind spending time alone; in fact, I like it.  However, isolation can be sort of depressing, and the Internet has really helped me counter this depression-of-too-much-isolation.  Because when I’m online, I’m engaging with other people.  I’m feeling like people care about me (even in a shallow Facebook kind of way), and are interested in what I have to say. Though I do feel sometimes like we’re all a little too connected,  I think the way social media increase these connections is ultimately emotionally healthy for us.  (Although, yes, sometimes I do feel like I have a bit TMI about casual acquaintances.)

Is it an illusion?  Maybe a little.  I certainly don’t think that “online” time is as valuable as “in person” time with real friends and family.  And I certainly look forward to having somewhere to go when I wake up in the morning again.

“And though we may not be alone in the universe, in our own separate ways, on this planet, we are all alone.” – Jose Chung

Stuff I am watching on TV

I’ve gone awhile without updating for no particular reason.  Things are good.  I visited Monterey. I saw “Star Trek.” I went to bars and paid too much for cocktails. I rode my bike some more.  I celebrated my birthday with a night of karaoke followed by a day of Disney characters, and I actually felt really good about turning a year older for a change.  Usually on my birthday, I tend to feel a little panicky about all I have not achieved yet at my ever-advancing age, and this year, I just felt like I still have a lot to look forward to and that I am on the right track.

So, here’s what I’ve been watching on TV now that it’s summer and there’s no more Lost in my life:

Dexter - I just started watching this show and I am really enjoying it.  One of the reasons I decided to check it out is my mom’s recommendation (although I don’t think she’s as picky about television as I am because she raves about Cold Case).  The other reason I decided to check it out is Julie Benz, and on this show, Darla she is not.  But she’s really talented and though it seems cliche to say this, I honestly feel like she’s like a breath of fresh air. There’s something very pure and refreshing about her.  Michael C. Hall is also absolutely fantastic and, like, really attractive.  Dexter doesn’t seem like a bad guy to date, right?  Maybe not…

I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here - I tuned into the first episode out of some morbid curiosity and found it terrible and vowed I’d never watch it again.  I tuned into the second episode and witnessed Stephen Baldwin baptizing Spencer Pratt and felt like it may not be so terrible, if only because it will give Joel McHale good fodder for The Soup.  However, it’s on every night.  Even I, an ardent Big Brother fan, cannot commit to watching a crappy television show every single night of the week. I feel like the fact that this show may have sucked me in is some mean sentence for some past life misdeeds. It’s also quite likely making me stupider.

So You Think You Can Dance – This is the antidote for all bad reality TV, as it is just awesome.

The Hills – I actually watched the Speidi Wedding Special (I know), and Brody commented that he hoped Spencer and Heidi’s children have “creepy, flesh-colored beards.”  Funny, Brody! Incidentally, why was Justin Bobby at this wedding?  And Stacie (the Bartender)? I think that Lauren Conrad actually seems like a nice girl and that it’s good for her career and life that she has extricated herself from this absurdity.  I don’t know if I can deal with watching a season sans Lauren of Kristin Cavallari and Audrina making no eye contact with anyone, ever.

Any recommendations for me?  Beyond Dexter, I’m really starved for quality.

My Shiny New Bike

Though I haven’t been a bike owner since I was a little kid, I purchased this shiny green beach cruiser last week.  And I love it!  I live in Santa Monica, which is a fairly contained little city, so I am enjoying biking to the bank, the library, and all of the nearby locations to which I normally drive.  I have also been enjoying taking the bike out on long rides around the little streets of Venice and along the bike trail by the coast.  The South Bay Bike Trail stretches 22 miles from Pacific Palisades to Redondo Beach.  I have only been able to manage to ride about 13 miles at a time, but I’ll get there.

For visitors to the Los Angeles, I think that renting a bike and cruising the South Bay Bike Trail is an excellent and quintessentially southern Californian activity.  The scenery is fantastic and the people-watching is even better.  You ride alongside the luxury hotels in front of the beach in Santa Monica, by Muscle Beach and the Venice Boardwalk in Venice, the funky houses on Ocean Front Walk, the little streets of the Marina.  For out-of-towners, there are bike rentals everywhere along the beach.  It’s not to be missed.  Every time I ride it, I think about how lucky I am to live right here.

I am, however, one of the dorkier and more awkward riders one will see along the trail.  First of all, I wear a helmet, which I believe is SAFE and not dorky, but most people don’t seem to be wearing them, making me feel like the Too Cautious Kid on the playground.  And my helmet is this intense, psychedelic blue color so it may actually be more of a hazard (causing distraction to other bikers) than a safety measure.  Also, I’m sort of a klutz in general and once got my pants stuck in the gears of the bike and had to pull over and rip the fabric out. And then my pants were all frayed. Dorky.  Another time, I overestimated my biking finesse and pulled over to get a smoothie from Red Mango.  I was happily riding along, drinking my smoothie … until it flew out of my hands about 30 seconds later.  I also haven’t really figured out a more effective carrying device for my stuff than the purse I typically carry, which sort of gets in the way and flops around while riding. In general, I am not one of those people who generally looks cool while exercising.  Or, you know, ever.

So I need to work out a few of these kinks before I commence my training for the Tour of California. (I may also need a bike with gear shifts.)

Cups

Last night, I saw some death-defying lifts (see above!) at the World Figure Skating Championships at the Staples Center here in LA.  However, I ran into some trouble when I tried to buy a beer.

Me: Hi, I’ll have a regular-sized beer please.

Guy Selling Beer at Staples Center:  Oh, we only have large cups, so I can only sell you a large.

Me: Well, can you just put a regular amount of beer in a large cup and sell me a regular?

Guy:  No.

Me: Why not?

Guy: We’re really selling the cups.

Me: What is it, some sort of special, collectors’ cup or something?

Guy: It’s a plastic cup.

Me: Can’t you just fill it with a little less beer?

Guy: No, we’re selling the cup.

Me: You’re charging me $9 for a plastic cup?  Not for the beer inside of it?  I really don’t understand.

Guy: Hang on, I’ll see if we have any regular-sized cups left.

He reappeared about three minutes later with a “regular” cup which he filled with a “regular” amount of beer.  Normally, I wouldn’t care, but the beer was totally overpriced anyway and I didn’t want to be forced to spend $2 more.  I am completely lost as to the “We’re selling the cup” logic. If I brought my own cup, would I have gotten a free beer?

Why am I keeping up with the Kardashians?

I somehow found myself watching about 6 to 7 hours of Keeping Up with the Kardashians the other day.  I really just couldn’t stop watching it.  I didn’t answer the phone while it was on.  I didn’t eat.  If Nathan Fillion had knocked on my door, I probably would have told him to come back later.  I was powerless against it.  In fact, I was sort of relieved when E! just stopped airing episodes because that meant I didn’t have to be watching them anymore.  Hours later, I kept talking to people about the show as if it was interesting or anyone at all cared. (Sometimes, I’m just not good at talking to other people.  Particularly in this unemployed/work from home part of my life.  I think I’m going to start scouring the Internet for appropriate conversation topics before going out from now on.)

Candid reality shows sort of fascinate me in a way because even though they are clearly scripted, there are genuine moments that sneak in there, unbidden, and the dichotomy between the fake and not fake is surreal.  Like, in this Kardashian show, Bruce Jenner bumbles around, clearly playing the role of the “sitcom dad.”  There was this really contrived storyline where he was paying one of the younger daughters an allowance for doing chores around the house, and she had hired some dude who worked down the street to do the same work for half price.  It was so obviously fake (where did she get the money to pay him before her dad paid her?!) and came to a predictably Growing Pains-esque resolution.  There is really something just so strange about people playing themselves in reality TV versions of their lives, and I always wonder how dopey they must feel doing so.

On the other hand, there was an episode where one of the daughters, Khloe, got a DUI on the anniversary of her father’s death and the emotions there actually felt uncomfortably real.  At least this show, unlike The Hills, does not mask the fact that the participants are celebrities and the show depicted the paparazzi following the family as they surrendered Khloe for her jail sentence.  How odd that they are all shielding themselves from being photographed by the paparazzi … while they are simultaneously being photographed for the reality show they all star in!

(I actually saw a paparazzo last week outside some trendy-ish establishment.  I rarely see them, which seems odd since I live in LA, but seeing a paparazzo was kind of as much of an amusement as seeing a celebrity for me.)

To watch Castle or not to watch Castle?

I have had a bit of an internal struggle lately with regards to whether I will watch Castle.  It looks really bad. The title alone sort of annoys me for some reason I can’t really pinpoint, although I suspect that it may have something to do with the fact that the main character’s name is “Rick Castle,” which is one of the fakest sounding names ever.  RICK CASTLE?  Please.

Also, the entire ”fun, non-serious, playboy guy tries to seduce an uptight, serious woman while investigating crimes” is so, so played.  Television has been bombarded with Moonlighting rip-offs for the past 20 years.  I don’t think there is a television watcher in the universe who is unfamiliar with this formula.  It’s DONE. Oh my God, we know they’ll eventually sleep together after thousands of seasons (if it makes it that long; if not, 13 episodes). I DON’T CARE.

However, Castle stars Nathan Fillion, whom I love.  Like, actually. In my heart. I think he’s a great actor and very funny and charming, but really … he’s just so very, very attractive. Look:  

Dreamy

I saw him in real life once and I think it’s a huge indication of my impressive degrees of self control that I did not ask him to marry me on the spot. I thought about it, though.  In fact, I visited his MySpace page to see what his interests are so that we can have things to talk about if our paths shall ever cross again (before the proposal, of course; a girl has to break the ice somehow).  And lo and behold, it does appear that we enjoy many of the same activities like hiking, watching Lost, and complaining.  If only he knew me already, he’d be in love with me RIGHT NOW and we’d be acting out scenes from Firefly.

I suspect that I will succumb to watching this show, but that I will only kind of enjoy it.

How I Read Myself Into Sleepless Nights

I have been reading scripts and writing script coverage for some extra money lately, which is fairly entertaining because I like to read.  However, as with all things, when you have to do something, it feels like a chore, so I like to “reward” myself for making it through a couple of scripts every day.  And for a reward for my reading, I usually use … reading.  “After I make it through this script coverage, I’ll let myself read a little of the book I just got from the library!”  I don’t know what that says about me, but I suspect that it hints that I might be a very dull person.

I’m on sort of a true crime kick with my “reward” books lately.  I finished Helter Skelter last week and it made me develop a bit of a literary crush on prosecutor, Vincent Bugliosi, who wrote this account of the Manson investigation and trial.  He’s so smart!  Helter Skelter is fascinating and horrifying, and has led me to some nights where I lay like a stick-straight board in my bed, convinced that I’m going to be creepy-crawled. I can only imagine what it must have felt like to live in Los Angeles in 1969 when these murders were occurring.  The idea gives me the chills.

 I then picked up Bugliosi’s book, Outrage: The Five Reasons Why OJ Simpson Got Away with Murder, and it’s an interesting account of the many, many mistakes that were made during that trial.  Here are a few that stood out to me:

• The trial should have taken place in Santa Monica because the murders occurred in Brentwood. This would have led to a “whiter” jury pool that undoubtedly would have not been as affected by the defense’s attempt to turn the case into a racial one (which also never should have happened).  The DA’s office never gave a viable reason why they chose downtown Los Angeles except that the media would be better accomodated.
• The prosecutors did not introduce a tape of OJ Simpson’s first round of questioning by the police into evidence – and in fact, tried to keep it out of evidence – even though he admitted that he bled all over his estate and he didn’t know how he got wounded.  He didn’t know how he got a huge, gaping flesh wound?!  This is also key because the defense later asserted that the blood evidence was planted by the police at OJ’s estate – but OJ had already admitted to bleeding everywhere!
• The defense argued that the DNA evidence presented by the prosecution, which proved that the blood at the estate and at the crime scene on Bundy was Simpson’s, was contaminated and thus must be thrown out.  However, any contamination of DNA evidence would make it more DIFFICULT to make a correct match, not create a false positive.  If the DNA evidence had been contaminated, it would have been harder to match it to Simpson’s.  But the defense basically said that DNA contamination CREATED the match. This is impossible.  As Bugliosi says, contamination and mishandling does not magically change one man’s blood into OJ Simpson’s.  The prosecution barely even tried to make the jury understand this.  Unbelievable!

The book contains many examples like these.  It’s infuriating to read about how a murderer was acquitted because of a completely bungled case against him.  At the end of the book, which was written in 1996, Bugliosi wonders if OJ Simpson will ever be accepted back into society and suspects that he might be, at least partially. Ironically, OJ is now in jail in Lovelock, Nevada for armed robbery.  I guess that if you are the type of person who would brutally stab your wife to death, then you are the type of person who may get caught doing something else illegal.  It’s ironic how these things work out.

10 Things About the Academy Awards

1. Jennifer Aniston seemed very nervous when she was presenting.  Conspiracy theory: I bet the producers had her present with Jack Black so they’d have an excuse to cut to Angelina and Brad while she was on stage. 

2. Sophia Loren has the glam bitchface down.  When she was talking about Meryl Streep during the Best Actress presentation, it actually sounded like she was being snide, even though of course she wasn’t and was saying very nice things.  It made me wish I had the presence to go through life as a glamourpuss so people would never really know if I was being nice or mean. 

3. Did anyone watch the Barbara Walters Special?  It was very odd.  The Jonas Brothers disturb me a little with their gigantic hair and their purity rings.  Also, Barbara forced Hugh Jackman to give her a lapdance.  And she was wearing a jacket made out of doilies.

4. Hugh Jackman is a great host.  He makes it feel very natural and effortless and he has a very old Hollywood class about him onstage.  I especially enjoyed his dance number about having not seen The Reader.  I thought the Baz Luhrman number was completely all over the place, which is no surprise since I usually find Baz Luhrman projects to be kind of all over the place.  It was like, wait, what? Hugh’s singing “Maria”?  And now Zac Efron and Lilly Kane are there?  And now “Singin’ in the Rain”?  And uuuuugh … Beyonce’s singing “At Last”!  OH SNAP ETTA JAMES! Can’t they just sing more than three words of one song? However, it looked like they were having fun with it.  When they cut to Penelope Cruz after the number ended, she looked confused.

5. On the other hand, I really enjoyed the Slumdog songs.  Jai ho!

6. Robert Pattinson looked like he was biting the insides of his cheeks to make sure he appeared as broody as possible on camera. 

7. I liked when Reese Witherspoon explained to ”those of us at home” what a director is.  Because really, in all of these years of Academy Award-watching, whenever they reached that Best Director award, I’d think to myself, “What IS a director anyway? I guess I’ll never know!”  So I’m really glad she cleared up that mystery. Gee, thanks, Reese! “He’s like the CEO, the head honcho!”  (Except he’s really not because he ultimately works for the producers.)    

8. I am surprised that the Academy included Cuba Gooding, Jr. in this affair, as I would think they’d like to treat his actually winning as a random drunken night of shame, like some guy you totally regret making out with in a club or something.  I mean, dude was in Radio.

9. Not a lot of (…or any) surprises with the winners, but I actually did enjoy most of the performances and films they honored, and it was fun to see the kids from Slumdog livin’ it up.  And of course, Kate. I thought Penelope Cruz was great in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, but I thought it was interesting that she thanked Pedro Almodovar in her acceptance speech more effusively than she thanked Woody Allen. (Did she even thank Woody Allen? I don’t remember.)  Either way, I am sure she is thankful that things did not work out with Tom Cruise and that she is winning acting awards rather than shuffling zombie-like around New York City with bad haircuts, pegged jeans,  and a fake daughter. 

10. Did anyone else get this dumb ABC commercial right after the show ended where they were like, “And now ABC takes you to the Oscar parties” but it was just an extended commercial for upcoming ABC shows with the actors standing around with martini glasses where they had to be in character as themselves which, incidentally, is a huge pet peeve of mine?  DO YOU THINK YOU CAN TRICK ME, ABC?

In Defense of He’s Just Not That Into You

He’s Just Not That Into You isn’t exactly a cinematic masterpiece or anything, but some of the reviews I’ve read have really rubbed me the wrong way. 

Rolling Stone:  “Are women desperate or just desperately stupid? This is the misogynist question at the core of He’s Just Not That Into You, a women-bashing tract disguised as a chick flick. I mean really, will women actually line up this weekend to see themselves treated as pawns in a man’s stupid game? I hope not.”

New York Times: “Mostly it does this by turning Gigi simultaneously into a joke (by playing her desperation for laughs) and a victim (by playing her desperation for tears). It’s a grotesque representation of female desire, one that the appealing Ms. Goodwin can’t save from caricature.”

So, here’s the thing: this is a movie about dating.  Sure, the women in the movie obsess over men (and the men in the movie obsess over women) and they don’t spend any time discussing the economic stimulus package or the Oscar nominations, but it’s a movie made up of dating vignettes.  That’s the whole point of it!

Here’s the other thing: sometimes women do neurotic things regarding men and dating. Ginnifer Goodwin’s character, Gigi, is embarassing to watch at times because she is an exaggerated portrayal of the over-analyzing and confusion regarding men and relationships in which many, many women have engaged.  I actually think most of the ladies in the audience were laughing with her (in an “Oh my God, can you believe I actually did something similar to that?” sort of way), rather than at her (in an “Oh my God, she’s so pathetic” sort of way).  The entire point of this character is that audiences will be able to see some aspects of themselves in her and laugh about it, not to be a “grotesque representation of female desire.”  Though there are legitimate criticisms that can be made about this movie, it is really just not  mean-spirited at all and I am actually surprised that anyone would read it that way.

I really resent the Rolling Stone reviewer (a guy, natch) basically declaring that this movie is so misogynistic that if women go see it and laugh at it, they are total idiots, a statement I find more offensive and misogynistic than anything in He’s Just Not That Into You.  The entire message of the movie is good and pro-woman:  basically, why make yourself crazy and neurotic by obsessing over some guy that YOU may not even like?  It’s not worth the time or energy. You will find someone who you like who also likes you.

There seems to be an undercurrent in some of this commentary that women who occasionally succumb to neurotic behavior over a man are extremely weak or bad feminists, which is just unfair.  It just makes them … human beings who are looking for a real connection with another person.  Isn’t it more liberating to poke fun at and laugh at this kind of behavior rather than be shamed by it?