A couple years ago, Jude Law walked straight into me in SoHo and I almost screamed at him. Then I looked up and saw who he was so, yeah, I just kept walking. Back then, that was my best celebrity spotting — that and the time I got to interview the entire cast of Entourage at the Ziegfeld. Oh yeah, and I would see the Gossip Girl cast filming all the time, but that got to be boring. Fast.
And then, like most of my stories go, I moved to LA.
Not to rub the wonders of this warm and sunny city in all your snow and ice-covered faces, but celebrity sightings here? They rock. I may never get sick of them. Even if my writing dreams ever do come true and I actually get to work with celebrities someday. The sightings here are just so… serendipitous. Our first night out we saw James Cromwell, the bad cop in LA Confidential, which just happens to be one of my boyfriend’s favorite movies. And my first day writing at Starbucks Ellen Pompeo from Grey’s Anatomy walked in. Talk about fate.
Since then we’ve had dinners next to Tim Curry, Kate Walsh, Lauren Graham (twice), Dax Shepard, Kristen Bell, Michael Cera, and best of all, Aaron Paul. He’s so frickin’ hot. If I weren’t in a so-called committed relationship, I would have introduced myself. We’ve had brunch next to Sarah Silverman and Jaime Pressly. Plus I’ve seen Jason Segel more stumbling-drunk than I myself have ever been, which is saying something. Seriously, it never gets old.
Admittedly, I’m a gossip whore. I probably spend a good hour (maybe two) a day reading celebrity gossip. In fact, I just spent an hour rereading old celebrity gossip because I couldn’t decide what I wanted to say in this blog post. Yes, I recognize this is one of my more self-indulgent posts. No, I don’t care.
But the thing that makes seeing celebrities here is that, unlike in New York, where they were always filming something or attending another sheeshy event, in LA you get to see them in their everyday lives. Or as everyday as celebrities lives get anyway. Russell Brand and Katy Perry live in our neighborhood, for crying out loud. And I get my nails done at the same place Katherine Heigl (supposedly) does.
I know, I know, binging on celebrity gossip is shallow and a waste of time and nonsensical. My personal obsession is made especially ridiculous considering the fact that I hate — hate as in with-a-vengeance-hate — reality stars. I do not understand who made them special or why anybody cares. If the words Bristol or Heidi so much as deign to appear on my computer screen, I turn my eyes away. In horror. I refuse to spend money on any magazine with any of those fake people on the cover.
The best excuse I can come up with for being so on top of so much celebrity gossip (and wasting a blog post bragging about it) is that it distracts me. The real world is depressing, yo. Plus it keeps me from gossiping about anyone I actually care about. Just let me have this one, OK?!
In one of his finer moments, The King of All Things Coke, Charlie Sheen, recently texted E! Online, “Egypt about burned to the ground, and all you people care about is my bullsh-t….?”
Actually Charlie, you might be the one and only “celebrity” I do not want to hear about. Now excuse me while I go and check on Perez.