| So, obviously, I have a Brittany Murphy story... |
[Dec. 21st, 2009|06:54 am] |
If you've read my book, "Exile in Guyville," then you remember the ending in which two actresses that I meet play good cop and bad cop with me and my bad attitude. The bad cop was Parker Posey, who is a friend of a friend, and who won't even remember meeting me and putting me and my annoying, boring ass in its place with a few simple, well-timed words, a moment for which I'll always be grateful. It ends my book because she was, without even knowing it, the first person not to indulge my whining.
The good cop was Brittany Murphy.
I haven't interviewed a celebrity since eating turkey bacon with Jennifer Hudson in late 2006. But in 2000 I was being assigned that task with increasing frequency and I was learning on the job. I had very little experience and, subsequently, more than a few disastrous meetings with various artist/actor types already under my belt. And I was still unable to steer an interview in the direction I needed it to go for my editors' sakes. If the person was dynamic and charming then they could bulldoze me and take over. Which is what Brittany Murphy did to me in the best possible way.
This was post-Clueless but pre-everything else, so she wasn't super famous yet. I hung out for her photo shoot all day, waiting for it to end, and watched her sing a lot of Rolling Stones songs while she lounged, in a staggeringly expensive dress, on the hood of a car. I remember the shoot was supposed to have been over by 2pm but wound up lasting until six for some reason. Her publicist was nice to me but was also keen to cut short my time with her for the actual interview because the other stuff had taken so long.
When it was finally time for my sixty minutes with her, the people who'd brought all the free lunch food were gone, as was everyone else, and she wanted out of the studio. Unfortunately the only other place to have the interview was the parking lot. So we went outside and sat on a low-level cement block wall (and had to move twice because of ants). She was still in the expensive dress and makeup and hair and was starving, so I gave her the Milky Way bar I had in my bag.
Back to my inability to control an interview: she immediately began asking me a million questions about myself. My background, bands I liked, Luby's cafeterias in Texas (the source of her "King of the Hill" namesake, Luann Platter) and how I was adjusting to living in Los Angeles. And because I wasn't adjusting well to living in Los Angeles, I told her that. Completely unprofessional on my part. But whatever. She was disarmingly adorable and sweet so I gave in to her prodding. She had that actress quality of looking you right in the eyes and hypnotizing you with her personality.
After listening to me gripe about being homesick for Texas, she told me that Los Angeles was just a place, just a zip code, and that there were awful selfish people everywhere, and that, yes, at 22 she couldn't be expected to be very wise, but that's what she believed. And she said something that didn't wind up in the interview or the book: that it was all going to be okay and that it sounded like my life was going to be great in Los Angeles. And she was right. It did turn out that way.
Then we got on task and did the interview, which was for a weird horror movie she was in called "Cherry Falls." And we talked about movies we liked and food we were obsessed with and then she did what no other interview subject has ever done to me. Unsolicited, she gave me her phone number and said, "You're so cool. Let's hang out. I'm going off on a movie shoot next week but when I come home let's hang out." I felt odd about it but was so moved by her kindness that I thought, "Okay, I'll bend my rule of no weirdo actor friends and see if she's cool to hang out with." So I waited for her to come back from the shoot, called the number, and her mom answered the phone and took my number. And that was that. No return call. We didn't hang out, which was fine. I have never craved celebrity friendships.
So I didn't know her at all or anything about whatever problems she might have had. She passed through my life for one day and we had a talk that made me like her a lot, and that gave me enough semi-hope that I put it in my book. I maintained a defensive soft spot for her even after all the tabloidy stuff started. And I'm grossed out that her death is already becoming a joke. Because I didn't meet a joke that day. I met someone who was sweet and kind and decent and funny. And it's kind of weird to feel sadness for a person you don't even really know. But I still feel it anyway. |
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| My husband is famous on TV. You can watch him. |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|08:23 am] |
http://current.com/items/91712985_the-rotten-tomatoes-show-year-endies.htm
There's a newish show called "The Rotten Tomatoes Show" and it's on the Current cable channel. That channel that Al Gore made up.
The show is based more or less on the Rotten Tomatoes website where critics get their movie reviews jumbled together and assigned points. When ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) moroccomole was MSNBC.com's main critic, he was on there every week. (Oh, and PS if you miss his MSNBC.com reviews he's the guest critic for the month on IFC.com)
So almost every week my man is on "The Rotten Tomatoes Show," throwing his reviews in to the show via Skype. And on the most recent episode they presented a montage of his best lines and then gave him a totally important award, for which he showed up in a suit to accept. Tie by Viktor & Rolf for H&M, chosen by me. You're welcome.
If you have Current on your cable system then the show is repeated a million times I think. If you don't then you can go to the link and look at him. The episode is 23 minutes long and he shows up at the 16:00 mark.
GO LOOK AT IT. HE'S SO ADORABLE AND WHATEVER. |
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| Weirdest work assignment of 2009 |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|07:45 am] |
Out's Popnography blog likes it when I recap TV shows. "American Idol" and "Project Runway" have been staple employment opportunities for me for a long time. But just recently they said, "Hey watch the new Bravo show 'Launch My Line' and recap it. So now I do.
Except that I think no one is looking at this weird design show about non-designers. What if I am the ONLY PERSON IN AMERICA watching it?
According to moroccomole, "It doesn't matter. You hit the high points and make it sound like they should be watching it." I appreciate his boosterism. It's like he's Sandra Bullock and I'm the adopted football son.
Okay, so, the recaps are short. Go give me some clicks and hits and whatnot...
http://tinyurl.com/ylyb9ta |
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| The first cards have arrived for my Mom... |
[Dec. 16th, 2009|02:49 pm] |
And if you missed my entry the other day about the cards in question, I am doing the same thing I did last year, getting LJ people to mail her Christmas cards at her nursing home. If you want to do it then email me at
DLelandWhite at aol dot com
and I will email you back with instructions and where to send. They go through me first, so it's a process and involves two envelopes on your part. Anyway, that's that. She loves this. Lets the other old people know she's the most popular person in the place. |
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| Ladies and Gentlemen, the high hat. |
[Dec. 15th, 2009|06:16 pm] |
Also the tambourine... and... furthermore, my friend Jen Yamato, a really decent Los Angeles lady who is now the BRAND NEW LADY-CRITIC with me at Movies.com.
The site relaunched today and there are no more letter grades, just stars to tell you that quick, lazy way of what we thought of the movie. And almost all of them are correct. In fact, all except one of them are. The Lovely Bones reads 2.5 stars right now. I'm going to have it fixed to be one star. Because that's what it is.
Anyway, go read us. Jen is swell. To go into the longer list of reviews you just click on our respective names or faces.
http://beta.movies.com/ |
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| PROJECT 'SEND MY MOM A CHRISTMAS CARD' IS UNDERWAY |
[Dec. 14th, 2009|06:54 am] |
A week ago this morning I got a call from one of the nurses at my mother's nursing home telling me that they'd just rushed her to the hospital with stroke-like symptoms. So instead of starting up this now-annual project last week I just held back and had a silent freakout instead.
As it turned out, she was not having another stroke (for all you new people here, she had a major stroke in 2004, lost the use of the right side of her body as well as her ability to speak, read and write) but was, instead, suffering a transient ischemic attack, or TIA. If a stroke is an earthquake then a TIA is a tremor or aftershock. Sometimes they mean another big one is coming, sometimes not. She used to have them with some regularity after the big stroke in 2004 but hasn't had one in a while.
Anyway, they took her to the hospital, kept her a few days, she was up and rolling around the day after it happened and now everything is back to normal.
However!
That means I've gotten a much later start on this Christmas card project than I intended. And again, if you're new to reading this, then here's what we do. I get y'all to send her Christmas cards and she has a happy December (or whatever kind of card you want to send her if you don't celebrate Christmas; she doesn't care what it is, she just likes mail).
Here's how it works:
1. Email me at DLelandWhite at aol dot com for the address.
2. You pick a card, sign it, DO NOT SEAL THE ENVELOPE. That's right, I'm inspecting the card. Because last year I got at least one somewhat inappropriate card sent by someone who really should have known better that my mom's not into nearly naked Santas.
3. Put the card and its envelope into ANOTHER envelope. Then you mail it to me.
4. When I receive it, I put her address on your envelope and forward it on to her.
If you're in then let me know. And thanks. She loved getting all the cards last year. |
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| I was proud of myself for about three seconds.* |
[Dec. 12th, 2009|07:22 pm] |
Our oldest car, the 1998 Beetle, is kind of a lemon and always has been. On any given day, there's usually something not quite right going on with it. And after 11 years of ownership it has only about 60,000 miles on it. Lights we need burn out, lights we don't want to see come on whenever they feel like it, noises come and go, things snap off. Today the license plate decided to fall off and an electrical cord that leads to something saw fit to come loose and drag on the ground.
And because I know as much about cars as I know about atomic submarines, maybe less, I drove it down the street to our neighborhood garage and said, "Fix this stuff please." So they did.
An hour later I walked the few blocks back and it was done. I paid them $25 dollars just for their labor. They plugged the thing back into whatever it was supposed to be plugged into and re-secured the plate. I could have done the latter if I'd had some bolts that were the right size. But all I have is little bolts for household things, some nails, a hammer, some wire, a wrench and two screwdrivers. And a really awesome miniature sander that plugs in. None of those things work to bolt a license plate back on to a plastic bumper with its bolt hole grooves stripped clean.
Anyway, not the point. The point is that I gave the man behind the counter, a guy from India with a really heavy accent, a $50 bill to pay for it. It's been pouring rain all day here so he was bored. People stay home in Los Angeles when it rains hard. The ones out driving are asking to be involved in car accidents. And because he was bored he decided to have fun quizzing me about American things I should know.
Guy: "Who is the President on the 50?"
Me: "Grant." (Of course. Our hottest-ever President. Don't believe me? Check that bill.)*<--- part where I was proud for three seconds.
Guy: What building is on the back?
Me: Uh...
Guy: The U.S. Capitol. Okay, who is on the 20?
Me: Andrew Jackson. Trail of Tears guy.
Guy: What is that?
Me: Long story.
Guy: What building is on the back?
Me: Lincoln Memorial?
Guy: No, the White House!
Me: Oops.
Guy: Who is on the 5?
Me: Lincoln! Memorial on the back!
Guy: Yes. Now if you will tell me who is on the 2 dollar bill and what is on the back I will return your 25 dollars.
Me: Then that 25 dollars will remain with you.
Guy: Thomas Jefferson. The other side is the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
Me: I've wasted my life.
Guy: Have a good day, my friend. |
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