Last year I attended an event called "Do Something" which encouraged young adults to motivate and do something for their communities. Celebs like Nigel Barker were there (where my ANTM fans at?!) The person that wasn't there was Lindsay Lohan. Instead she was next door, hanging out in a hi-rise apartment building. And the only reason I know this is because I almost got run over by her afterwards. As I leaned against the back of a cab waiting for my car service, I watched paparazzi crowding the sidewalk and suddenly found myself blinded by an onslaught of flashes. I could hardly see what was coming towards me when out of nowhere someone shouted for me to move. It took me a second to realize a bodyguard was the one shouting at me to make way for Ms. Lohan. I jumped aside just in time to see Lindsay rush past me into a black SUV (so cliche, why can't they come in bright pink?)
Tonight I attended a party where Samantha Ronson was the DJ. From the moment we received the invites, there were whispers as to whether Lindsay would be attending as well. It made me wonder how Samantha feels about being, at one time, known only for her good DJing skills, to suddenly being famous and having her picture plastered everywhere simply because she made one of Hollywood's young and troubled stars into a lesbian? confused bisexual? Neither of which I care, and for what it's worth it seems the stories about Lindsay doing blow are long gone, so, good for those ladies! But as I stood there observing those around me gawk, glare and sneak phone pics of the twosome once Lindsay arrived, I wondered what does stardom even mean anymore? I feel as though there are now only three ways into Hollywood: scandal, YouTube or somehow finding your way into a hit show or movie no later than when you're 15 years old. Who gives a crap about quality anymore? And I find that incredibly sad.
I'm surrounded by a plethora of talented people. I may even be one myself. But, logically speaking, the majority of them will go unnoticed or beat themselves into the ground trying and then wake up and realize they are 40 and still at the same place there were 15 years earlier. Does that mean they should give up? Not at all, but you must come to understand why you're doing it. I do the things I do because there's a level of fulfilment I receive when I see my articles published, my screenwriting come to life or my photos end up in random places like AM NY, that I'll never get from the 9-5 I have. But the 9-5 is what pays me. It's why I was able to afford my own home and hire a stylist. And although my family may wonder why I wear myself so thin doing so much, I'll never question myself. I'll continue to live my life this way because it's what completes me.
So Ms. Lohan, my advice to you is live up the life God has granted you and run with it for as long as you can because you can only be young and in the eye of the paparazzi for so long before you become just that crazy Hollywood kid that never grew up. I wish you the best of luck as I do to all others who are striving for just a piece of your stardom.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Making a Horror Film: Tips from the Experts
1. Ignore the long lines at the haunted studios of Universal Studio's Halloween Horror Nights and create your own fun by doing laps around the entire park.
2. As you fi
ght off the stares of totally creepy men costumed as wolves who love to dress in drag , become inspired to create a richly amateur movie depicting the horrors of two lovers who lose each other in a scary town called "Everything is Fake-ville." Convince yourself it will be very avant-garde.
3. Use props and studio lots when no one's looking to film very important climactic moments.
4. Take a break to stick your head in Jaws's mouth just to see if he'll bite.
5. Or, as an alternative to #4, hang out with a deranged Mad Hatter who, at any moment, might actually bite your head off.
6. Observe as dimwitted onlookers get skeeved out by the sight of rats crawling over a lady in a see-through coffin when in reality the rats are scared beyond belief to even be in there with her.
Afterwards, realize your boyfriend is missing and notice that he is balled up on a far away stoop repeating to himself, "I shall not be afraid. I shall not be afraid. Mickey Mouse is my friend."
At this point you shake your head, disbelieving that he could be so scared of a harmless creature. You stop when you're suddenly distracted by a tiny centipede sliding across the street several feet away from you sending you into a fight of screams and "God help me!" shouts.
7. Try to provoke one of the scary monsters to chase you so that you can catch the scene on film. Then actually find yourself screaming of fear as they chase and you no longer find it funny.
8. After several hours of running around the park, being scared by nonsense, filming things of greater nonsense and having a ton of fun doing it, rush back to your hotel just so that you can edit the film right there on the spot and have it ready to release the moment your laptop can hold an internet connection long enough for the upload process.
10. Post a photo with the Simpsons family although it has nothing to do with the rest of your blog, simply to show people how much fun you had on your birthday vacation.
2. As you fi
ght off the stares of totally creepy men costumed as wolves who love to dress in drag , become inspired to create a richly amateur movie depicting the horrors of two lovers who lose each other in a scary town called "Everything is Fake-ville." Convince yourself it will be very avant-garde.3. Use props and studio lots when no one's looking to film very important climactic moments.
4. Take a break to stick your head in Jaws's mouth just to see if he'll bite.
5. Or, as an alternative to #4, hang out with a deranged Mad Hatter who, at any moment, might actually bite your head off.
6. Observe as dimwitted onlookers get skeeved out by the sight of rats crawling over a lady in a see-through coffin when in reality the rats are scared beyond belief to even be in there with her.
Afterwards, realize your boyfriend is missing and notice that he is balled up on a far away stoop repeating to himself, "I shall not be afraid. I shall not be afraid. Mickey Mouse is my friend."
At this point you shake your head, disbelieving that he could be so scared of a harmless creature. You stop when you're suddenly distracted by a tiny centipede sliding across the street several feet away from you sending you into a fight of screams and "God help me!" shouts.
7. Try to provoke one of the scary monsters to chase you so that you can catch the scene on film. Then actually find yourself screaming of fear as they chase and you no longer find it funny.
8. After several hours of running around the park, being scared by nonsense, filming things of greater nonsense and having a ton of fun doing it, rush back to your hotel just so that you can edit the film right there on the spot and have it ready to release the moment your laptop can hold an internet connection long enough for the upload process.
9. Blog about your experience and post your masterpiece so that all your friends, followers and family can comment on how amazingly fantastic your creative skills are.
Halloween Horror Night - The Jaime and Lauren Story
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv
10. Post a photo with the Simpsons family although it has nothing to do with the rest of your blog, simply to show people how much fun you had on your birthday vacation.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Getting to Know "PB&J"
The best thing about being in a circle of so many creative people is the possibility of finding yourself engaged in anything from script writing to having random pillowfights in the streets of Brooklyn, NY. There's actually more meat to the latter part of that statement, so let me explain...
Jaime never ceases to amaze me with his multifaceted talent. My latest introduction was to his collaboration with one Pete Bune, a member of Long Island's original public access team of misfits called "The Slack Pack". Pete, on first notice, comes across as so calm, cool and collected you would never imagine him to jump in on bits like "Nigel Hardon's Dildo Galaxy." Yes, you read that correctly. So I guess it's at this point that I must provide a disclaimer: THE HUMOR YOU ARE ABOUT TO EXPERIENCE IS R-RATED!
Mind-warpingly-funny Jaime meets so-out-there-funny Pete and they come together as the newest comedic Voltron warrior: PB&J (yes, like the sandwich.) Now, I've been hearing about this project for quite some time, seen the interaction of the two at table readings, and promised to be the squishiness between their PB and J (TMI, sorry.) But, it wasn't until a brisk Sunday in October that I joined the duo (and several other of Pete's faithful friends) to team in on the creation of their intro.
There were costume changes, makeup applications, long absurd lists of fornication and baby chucking, and yet I came out of it feeling completely normal. Maybe that just means I'm strange. So here you are, the intro to the upcoming season of "The PB&J Show".. (To my family and friends who are easily offended by mention of bodily parts, you are fully warned! And remember, it's all in fun!)
Breakdancers for life!
Jaime never ceases to amaze me with his multifaceted talent. My latest introduction was to his collaboration with one Pete Bune, a member of Long Island's original public access team of misfits called "The Slack Pack". Pete, on first notice, comes across as so calm, cool and collected you would never imagine him to jump in on bits like "Nigel Hardon's Dildo Galaxy." Yes, you read that correctly. So I guess it's at this point that I must provide a disclaimer: THE HUMOR YOU ARE ABOUT TO EXPERIENCE IS R-RATED!
Mind-warpingly-funny Jaime meets so-out-there-funny Pete and they come together as the newest comedic Voltron warrior: PB&J (yes, like the sandwich.) Now, I've been hearing about this project for quite some time, seen the interaction of the two at table readings, and promised to be the squishiness between their PB and J (TMI, sorry.) But, it wasn't until a brisk Sunday in October that I joined the duo (and several other of Pete's faithful friends) to team in on the creation of their intro.
There were costume changes, makeup applications, long absurd lists of fornication and baby chucking, and yet I came out of it feeling completely normal. Maybe that just means I'm strange. So here you are, the intro to the upcoming season of "The PB&J Show".. (To my family and friends who are easily offended by mention of bodily parts, you are fully warned! And remember, it's all in fun!)
See more funny videos at Funny or Die
Breakdancers for life!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Style Me! Episode 2
The first step in obtaining a new style? Get rid of the stuff that makes you look like crap! Check out this video where Rashad goes through all my jeans and gives pointers every lady should consider when shopping for their bottom half.
(For those of you that subscribe via email you'll have to click on the highlighted "Style Me Episode 2" in order to see the vid.)
(For those of you that subscribe via email you'll have to click on the highlighted "Style Me Episode 2" in order to see the vid.)
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Social Studies & Me
When I was in college social networking was fresh and blooming. I was part of an online community called MiGente.com where Latinos go to meet (even the non-Spanish speaking, 3rd generation American ones like me.) Within a week of membership I was connected to a double digit number of college guys spreading throughout the Northeast. There were notes, IMs and picture comments galore! Then I landed myself a boyfriend (not through the site) and MG became a thing of the past. Once I graduated I found out about this new site called MySpace and learned I could connect with the general public, reconnect with old friends and loop into a new addiction of profile updating.
I don't have to tell you what MySpace grew into since then, unless of course you've taken up residence at the North Pole and spend your days playing cards with Santa (oh no wait, he friend requested me last week - never mind.) Suddenly everyone's computer screen at work had MySpace plastered somewhere until the boss went by and a series of minimizing mouse clicks reigned throughout the office. The site became a place to display your personality to the world, unless of course your profile was set to private. And for those not interested in having people find them, you could easily list your full name as Seymour Butts without a moment's hesitation from the site. All was fine and dandy until Facebook came along.
At first you could only join if you had a college email address. Then you could join via your company email. Then Facebook said to hell with the MySpace competition and let everyone join but full names were more of a necessity. I joined because... I'm a drone and do anything everyone else does. Plus, you can't Facebook-stalk people unless you're a member.
I constantly received notices saying so-and-so wanted me to add an application that did things like rate how hot people thought I was. I would instantly reject, knowing damn well that these applications were just another ploy for God to remind me how not flattering my hips were becoming. It was all so complicated that I just stuck with accepting friends and writing on walls. If it were that difficult for me to comprehend, there would be no way anyone older than me would find there way around...right?
Wrong.
My cousin Danielle became new to Facebook while we were vacationing in the Outer Banks of North Carolina...
"Lauren, how do I add pics?"
"Danielle, pass me the suntan lotion."
"Lauren, seriously! How do I update my status?"
"You realize we're on a beach right?"
"Come on, this is fun! Everyone I know is on here!"
In the week that followed, Danielle came to believe she was the most popular girl this side of the Chesapeake Bay bridge tunnel... until she had friended everyone she knew, and then there were no new friend requests. Poor thing.
Her peek into the world of social networking prompted an invitation for my godmother/her mother to join Facebook as well. Which clearly left me aware of what would come next...
My mom joining Facebook.
First there was the email notification I received that screamed "Your mother wants to be your friend!" Once that was accepted, this is what was written on my wall:
Well Mom, first things first this:
means your bisexual so I suggest you change that to simply "Men", unless there is something you'd like to tell me (in which case I think I'm upset you chose to tell the Facebook world first.)
"But I'm only saying I'm interested in making both male and female friends."
"Umm, no. That's not what it means mom. Do you want my help or not?"
I expect that by this evening I'll be given her password to fix up her page, post some pics and make her look like the coolest mom on the planet (which of course she is.) And will have completed the social experiment I was never aware I was a part of; the experiment in which I see social networking close the age gap and cause me to fight my mom for the award for best Facebook profile.
Which is all good... as long as she doesn't join MySpace.
I don't have to tell you what MySpace grew into since then, unless of course you've taken up residence at the North Pole and spend your days playing cards with Santa (oh no wait, he friend requested me last week - never mind.) Suddenly everyone's computer screen at work had MySpace plastered somewhere until the boss went by and a series of minimizing mouse clicks reigned throughout the office. The site became a place to display your personality to the world, unless of course your profile was set to private. And for those not interested in having people find them, you could easily list your full name as Seymour Butts without a moment's hesitation from the site. All was fine and dandy until Facebook came along.
At first you could only join if you had a college email address. Then you could join via your company email. Then Facebook said to hell with the MySpace competition and let everyone join but full names were more of a necessity. I joined because... I'm a drone and do anything everyone else does. Plus, you can't Facebook-stalk people unless you're a member.
I constantly received notices saying so-and-so wanted me to add an application that did things like rate how hot people thought I was. I would instantly reject, knowing damn well that these applications were just another ploy for God to remind me how not flattering my hips were becoming. It was all so complicated that I just stuck with accepting friends and writing on walls. If it were that difficult for me to comprehend, there would be no way anyone older than me would find there way around...right?
Wrong.
My cousin Danielle became new to Facebook while we were vacationing in the Outer Banks of North Carolina...
"Lauren, how do I add pics?"
"Danielle, pass me the suntan lotion."
"Lauren, seriously! How do I update my status?"
"You realize we're on a beach right?"
"Come on, this is fun! Everyone I know is on here!"
In the week that followed, Danielle came to believe she was the most popular girl this side of the Chesapeake Bay bridge tunnel... until she had friended everyone she knew, and then there were no new friend requests. Poor thing.
Her peek into the world of social networking prompted an invitation for my godmother/her mother to join Facebook as well. Which clearly left me aware of what would come next...
My mom joining Facebook.
First there was the email notification I received that screamed "Your mother wants to be your friend!" Once that was accepted, this is what was written on my wall:
Well Mom, first things first this:
means your bisexual so I suggest you change that to simply "Men", unless there is something you'd like to tell me (in which case I think I'm upset you chose to tell the Facebook world first.)
"But I'm only saying I'm interested in making both male and female friends."
"Umm, no. That's not what it means mom. Do you want my help or not?"
I expect that by this evening I'll be given her password to fix up her page, post some pics and make her look like the coolest mom on the planet (which of course she is.) And will have completed the social experiment I was never aware I was a part of; the experiment in which I see social networking close the age gap and cause me to fight my mom for the award for best Facebook profile.
Which is all good... as long as she doesn't join MySpace.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
It's More Important Than You Think
REGISTER! www.declareyourself.com
You ever watch American Idol or Dancing with the Stars and see how the people you thought would win don't because people didn't vote for them thinking it was pointless bc so many people would vote for them that their individual little vote didn't matter? And then BAM! the people you thought would win don't or the people you didn't think would win do because of those who DIDNT vote... Well the Presidential election is the same thing.
VOTE!
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