Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

More celebrity hullaballo, although technically, this is just me being gratutious (or self-interested. Or possibly mastubatory. Your pick.):

Anderson Cooper is on the West Coast all this week . That link with his name is in case you've been hiding under a rock and don't know who he is. Although I didn't til I saw his
book excerpted in "Vanity Fair", and it was so good I went out and bought it. What can I say? I don't watch the news! Why? Well, two reasons:

1.) I can't take all the graphic imagery. Reading the news is one thing, and I don't mind doing that. But I cannot deal with footage of carnage, et al, over and over and over again. One might argue that THAT in and of itself is a reason to watch, to understand all that loss and horror. I get that, I do. But do I need to see it over and over? On 9/11, I saw it when it happened, and then I turned the tv off for the next 24 hours. I KNEW all the stations would be doing would be running the same terrible footage ad nauseum, "nauseum" being the key word. I can't take that. Primarily because I'm very empathic and it makes me very upset and agitated, but also because I have this weird thing where I get way overstimulated with visual information after awhile, especially if it is emotionally loaded. My brain just shuts down, and everything sounds and looks like mush, or I throw up. (You do not want to know the list of just MOVIES I have thrown up at, even knowing they're not real. I mean it. Seriously).
Which brings me to ....

2.) If I'm paralyzed thusly, I can't do anything to help. What can you do to change the world if you can't get moving? If you're stuck in despair or cynicism, you can't make a difference, which is, to me, one of the functions of news in the first place. Right? Right.

It's not that I don't want to know what's going on- and I feel like I try to keep up as much as I can- I do. It's just that tv news, in a word, blows. Period. I'd rather read about it, which usually gives you a bigger scope of things anyway.

But back to my topic.....
The last two days he's been in L.A. ( shilling said book? Possibly). I adore him, because he's so brilliant and good-looking ( still, a shock for me, because a hot newscaster? Isn't that an oxymoron? Please recall that "hot" for me includes the factors of "interesting" and "edgy" and "slightly off-kilter, possibly mentally". Not things you usually see in a talking head. It was the book,- which is all those things- I tell you! The BOOK!) . For a brief moment, I considered stalking the CNN building, but quickly dissuaded myself from the idea. Why? Because I don't know where the hell it is, for one, and although that wouldn't be hard to figure out, I don't wanna waste gas at $3.35 a gallon ( yes, I know I keep mentioning that. It really pisses me off. REALLY really pisses me off). Next, it was HOT today. And while the idea of possibly catching him sweating while he swans around in a Prada suit was compelling, it wasn't enough to get me off the couch and out in the heat. Besides, who dates their stalkers? I mean really? Come on. Those kinds of things never work out as idealistically ( or delusionally) as they may begin ( especially if they begin with security hauling you to the pokey).

And then there's this issue , which is really more of a question floating around out there, but in my experience, if it's even a question, then, well, pack your bags, sister. You need to move on to a different ballplayer, one on your own team perhaps. I do have a request in to a friend in the possible know, though. I won't divulge her identity with even an alias ( I'll explain why in a minute), but she happens to be in a torrid email affair with A Very Well-Known New York Writer ( reason #1), because she's helping him with a book he's writing on Anthony Pellicano ( oh, come on, don't make me link this too! Don't you people even READ the news? Even a little?), the thug-for-hire-of-choice for The Special People in Hollywood who's currently behind bars. She has the authority to do so because she was assaulted by the man ( along with another friend of mine) years ago when Someone Important wanted her silenced (reason #2). Its a long terrible, sad story, and I don't have her permission to discuss it here, so I shan't.
Anyhowwwwwww, I said to her, "hey, if you're so in with Writer, see if he knows if...." and posed my question. She was pretty confident that he would know for certain. I'm DYING to find out, but she's hedging, saying that "if I ask anything of him, I get to go first! I want to meet Bill Clinton! " That might take forever, but he ( Writer) is supposed to be out here shortly to work on the book, so maybe I can ask him myself. That is, if I can pry them off each other long enough to get them to go to lunch. I wonder if it would be terrifically gauche to ask a lauded New York journalist- who writes for a magazine I read regularly and whose work I respect tremendously- such a question.

And if I do just carpe diem it and ask anyway, should I do so over salad, or wait til the entree? Such dillemmas I've never known before! That's what you get when you rub shoulders with the elite, I suppose (*snort* as if!). As I said to Lynnie the other day when I was relating this set of circumstances to her, " ...and yet here I sit with my front door wide open, hoping to catch a breeze because my air conditioner has blown a fuse. One minute you're in the mix, the next minute, you're on your porch, sweating in your underwear ( don't worry, I have a walled-in brick fence.). " Her response, "welcome to LA!"

No doubt.