Hey you guys! I don't have anything exciting to write about. A lot of little stories, but -- nothing that's jumping out to me. Do I write about how I got trapped inside Kelsey Grammer's Bel Air mansion gate? (No, it's not fun because I got out eventually.) Or how my roommates got me all … Continue reading Mannequin Whisperer.
An occupational hazard of working in Beverly Hills is that I am constantly surrounded by “youth”. The relentless pursuit of it, anyway. It appears in many forms. Baggy leggings, luxury convertibles, Botoxed earthworm-lips, so glossy you can check your own teeth in them, and of course, see-thru foreheads. I spend a lot of time hanging … Continue reading 35 Is The New Elderly.
I had sucked down way too many Rum and Vanilla Cokes before I saw her, because I was nervous and trying to seem cool and relaxed. And I wondered if I was hallucinating, but -- Yes, that's La Toya. Just stopping by the Christmas Eve family dinner party I attended. Dropping off gifts for the … Continue reading So Then La Toya Jackson Showed Up.
I grew up with nary a ghost or a witch decoration in our house. We went to church. We had 90% "Harvest", 10% "Halloween". Even my elementary school threw class Harvest parties. With apples. Hay bales. Orange mashed potatoes for lunch. And way not enough candy to make the time off math class, worth it. … Continue reading I Just Spooked My Pants.
I started writing this blog two years ago. (TWO!) My first post was a quote from Lucille Ball, from her autobiography I had just started reading. I recently finished her book. (I'm no speed reader. I like to savour words and look at pictures. For years...) Also, through some practiced nighttime ritual, I've trained myself … Continue reading Lucille Ball.