Cold April Rain - Goodnight $5 Umbrellas

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, and lived in Seattle for 13 years. People always say “Doesn’t it rain there all the time?” Not really. Its overcast for 10 months out of a year.  Its always LOOKS like it about to rain but it doesn’t that much really.

And when it does it’s a soft drizzly rain that doesn’t require an umbrella.

So when I moved to New York I vowed to not buy an umbrella. I didn’t own one in Seattle why would I get one here?

 I answered during my first rainstorm. It was like someone was chasing me with a firehose. I was soaked to my underwear in a matter of minutes.

Luckily practically every corner in NYC has a vendor selling cheap $5 umbrella. Those umbrellas last 5 minutes, but that’s okay since you’ll lose then long before then.  I have a few bartender friends who have a dozen of forgotten umbrellas in their apartments.

Every rainstorm ends with a host of broken umbrellas scattered across the city.

One thing that I will never understand is why in the summer when it rains IT GETS HOTTER. Don’t bother explaining it. I’ve had it explained to me. My brain won’t accept it.

Trapped at the Film Festival: The Inside Goop Vol 2.

*While inspired by events both observed in the media and actually experienced by the author, this is work of pure parody and is entirely fictional.



It was Saturday night. Again. I was hanging with my cat Agent Cooper while trying to write 200 words reviews for cosmetics on a website that was giving me $25 a pop for said reviews. They only took about an hour to write and I’d said yes to writing 5 in a week which seemed really easy 8 days ago. I figured I’d get one done  a day, then give them a quick look over on Sat and turn them in Sunday which of course is why I was STARTING them at 5pm Saturday afternoon.  I told myself over and over that it wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t planned on spending last weekend in East Hampton. At least not overnight. But I didn’t get home until 4am Sunday morning leaving at 8am Saturday. I would say traffic was a bear but it was actually a deer. A car hit deer and that tied up the roads for hours. In BOTH directions

                If you know me you know I don’t really mind long drives. I actually like them. They are rare for me since I don’t drive.  But this drive was made horrifying long by the driver.  I hate to say anything bad about this person. He is a nice person. Well some of you may have met “Simon”. He’s attended a few of my birthday parties. He is quite possibly the most aggressively dull person you will ever meet in your entire life. He can suck the life completely out of a room. He is rich and he is INTO me.

                My life would be so less complicated if I could just stand him. I could marry him and I’d have money and houses. But this man is a human tranquilizer. This is an actual conversation we had

Cam: Didn’t you grow up on Long Island?

Simon: Yes, Great Neck.

Cam: Is that a good place to grow up?

Simon: It’s like anyplace

(silence)

Cam: Where does that name come from?

Simon: Not sure

(silence)

Simon: I always thought Manhasset was a weird name.

Cam: Did you ever live there?

Simon: Went to summer camp

Cam: Was that fun?

Simon: Sure

And repeat.

Part of me didn't want to go to that East Hampton party, but the rest of me could not be kept away. My dear close personal friend Gwynnie X was throwing a party WITH GIFT BAGS.  Gwynnie X’s gift bags ROCK. Well for me. I’ve been told they are ‘disappointing’ by those who consider a $250 digital camera a ‘ho hum’ gift.

Also Gwynnie X was making a lot of the food. Yes she is clueless and insufferable but no one can deny the bitch can cook! I was so excited to eat some of her food. Skypeing means almost never seeing her in person. Occasionally she’ll Fed Ex me some Lemon Bars or other mailable food items and they are freaking yummy.

We finally arrived after getting lost twice, coming within inches of hitting a deer (I suddenly began to worry about Lyme disease). We arrived at Gwynnie X’s palatial estate only to realize despite being over an hour late we were actually the first to arrive.

The estate is so gorgeous and it was so nice to get out of the city. I love Manhattan so much but it can get to you after a while. It was just me and Simon for a while, then the photographers came and with them, the party models. One of Gwynnie absolute besties in the whole wide world, had a display set up of her breathtakingly expensive handbags. The models spent 20 minutes oohing and ahhing over the purses and it became quite clear why their acting careers never got off the ground.

After a while the A list guests began to arrive. Ugh

Don’t get me wrong as a red carpet reporter I met A listers all the time. Many of them are shockingly boring. 

A few of them recognized me. Then I had to introduce to the conversational black hole that is Simon.

Example, conversation with Robert Pattinson.

Robert Pattinson remembered me from a few weeks earlier when the most recent Twilight Movie had opened. I was surprised he remembered me. The place putting it on REALLY kept it under wraps. It was small and intimate with no throngs of screaming fans to squeeze past.

Simon: There were a lot of people there.

Robert: (looking confused) No there weren’t. I saw 7 fans outside. No idea how they found out they wouldn’t tell me.

Simon: At “Remember Me”

Cameron: Oh last spring? Yes that was a madhouse.

Simon: They had to shut the street down.

Robert: I remember

Simon: You couldn’t get on the red carpet.

Cameron: Yeah I was there so I remember. But we were talking about the screening of Twilight.

Simon: So many screaming fans it took me ten minutes to walk around.

Robert: Yeah but the Twilight screening was at the Crosby Hotel

Cameron: Much smaller

Simon: The Remember Me screening was the Paris Theater.

Cameron: Yes we remember

Robert: because we were both there

Suddenly from across the lawn Gwynnie X was calling me.

Gwynnie X: hey Cam! We’re about to start serving the appetizers can you come help me in the kitchen?

I wanted to yell back “You’re hired a staff to help you! People who actually know how to cook, what do you want with me?” But I was so grateful for any chance to be away from Simon. As I began to leave I saw the panic and fear in Robert’s eyes. I felt bad for Simon but I couldn’t leave him here.

Cam: oh and Robert there’s a bathroom upstairs with no line

Robert: (as he ran away) Thanks!

I went into the kitchen that was bigger than any apartment I’d had in New York, to see Gwynnie X literally looking over the shoulder of a man preparing what looked like shrimp.

Gwynnie X: not too much pepper, we want a caress of pepper not an embrace right Cam?

I nodded yes having no idea what the hell she was talking about.

Gwynnie X: here eat this (handing me an appetizer) it’s a bite size chicken caprese

DAYUM.

Cam: OOH so good!

Gwynnie X: that is such a relief. My stomach has been hurting all day worrying about these appetizers. But everyone was so late and the movie is about the start. Put them on the tables and let’s get going.

Cam: Movie?

Gwynnie X: Yes I’ve picked out of my favourites and given the erudite nature of the crowd I’d like to solicit responses and advice.

Cam: Advice?

Gwynnie X: we’re screening one my underrated gems

Oof.

As we assembled on the lawn, where half a dozen love seats and couches had been set up facing a giant screen I can’t believe I didn’t notice before Gwynnie X got up on a deck and announced “there are yummy treats for everyone, gluten free and organic chow down. And now we are going to watch a great film. I’m so overjoyed to be able to bring you this experience. I feel like together we can transcend popular expression and use our collective consciousness to bring our artistic endeavors to a higher level!”

For those of you who left your Pretentious to English dictionaries at home today let me translate.

“There a bunch of stuff that is very good for you, so like any mother I’m telling you to eat it since I cooked it and it will be a slap in my face not to. Now I’m going to force you watch a movie I’m in and you’ll be too polite to do anything other than tell me how brilliant I am to my face. Validate me! For the love of all this is good and holy VALIDATE ME!”

I settled in. The treats were YUMMY.  And Gwynnie X has starred in quite a number of interesting films that went exactly blockbusters.

I’ve missed a few. This could be interesting. Open mind, open mind I have an open mind. The lights went down and the movie started.

Oh. Dear. God.

THIS is the movie she picked? WTF?

Let me just say it’s absolute BOMB where Gwynnie X played a Nevada girl who dreamed of being an air steward and goes about it, in the most boring and dreary way possible but realizes that life is nothing without love and abandons everything for her boring milquetoast lover. It was shelved for two years until Gwynnie won an Oscar, or it might never have been released.

Simon actually fell asleep for over an hour. Good. He had to drive us back to Manhattan. I meanwhile helped myself to three “Burning Pineapples” a spicy rum pineapple juice drink.

I couldn’t help but recall the evening I went to the premiere screening of “The Happening” by M Night Shmylan. I took along my friend M and we sat there before the screening our fists clenched saying “ This  will be a return to form. M Night will make good on the promise he made to us with the 6^th sense. This is going to be awesome. We ARE going to LOVE this! “ We  were trying to make it good movie by sheer force of will. M Night introduced the film taking great care to point out his mother was in the audience. “Yes mother its an R rated film but no naked girls! No bad words. I love you Mama.”

It was so awful. The audience was restless the entire movie and the second ‘directed by’ hit the screen POUND POUND POUND! People were literally running up the aisles, no doubt desperately trying to avoid the director or the co stars (or worse their families, once at a premiere I muttered that one star really needed to hang it up only realize I was standing 6 inches from his teenage daughter).

Of course there are the breathtakingly awkward moment of having the writer or the director ask you what you thought of the movie and you standing there thinking “Who thought this was a good idea? Seriously how much acid did you have to slip them?”

The movie continued to unspool. As Gwynnie realized having her own ambitions and identity are a fools’ errand and rushes to be absorbed into a man’s life on the screen, I could see everyone sort of gathering up their things. They were readying to bolt.

On one hand I felt a little bad for Gwynnie. On the other hand she had TRAPPED us and made this watch her this awful  AWFUL movie so I wasn’t feeling too generous either.

After a mere 17 hours the movie ended (okay 90 minutes). Gwynnie began circulating trying to get a conversation started. “So what do you think worked? Don’t be shy, let me know what didn’t work”

OH gee, maybe that the script was terrible, the director was clueless and the plot points telegraphed so badly a 3 year old could have seen them coming?

Except no one was saying anything.  People were practically running for their cars. Mercifully I was in the back (Gwynnie always put me back there to make sure I didn’t accidentally get photographed) so I woke Simon up. And gave him a soda and told him we needed to GO. People were already streaming off the 

lawn, like a bomb had gone off(which one sorta had). I could see Gwynnie being hugged and kissed as people left. Chris was in the back smirking. I wanted to slap him so hard.

Simon and I had a real excuse. The drive to Manhattan would take a while and there was another deer collision (FUCK!) on the highway. But after all those ‘burning pineapples’ I desperately needed to pee. Sneaking off to upstairs bathroom (yes there was a line at the floor level one) I didn’t want to the staff to spot me, So I left the overhead light off and I emptied my bladder by the illumination of a Van Gogh “Sunflower” Night light.

Then I heard it. Somebody had walked into the room off the bathroom. Someone was here.

Chris: really? You thought this would be a good fucking idea?

Gwynnie:  I did. I DO! These are some brilliant and cultured people.

Chris: OMG you do get how overrated these people are? I mean you must. You’re not an idiot at least I don’t think.

Yeah fucker you need to shut up. Except I couldn’t say that. I knew now I couldn’t leave the room until they did. I might be the last person to leave this party. I might be here til Monday.

Well me and Simon, brilliant social adept Simon who then appeared.

Simon: oh I heard you yelling sorry.

JEEZ! When you hear a couple fighting you don’t TELL them. You lie! It’s just common courtesy.

Simon: I’m looking for Cam

Gwynnie: oh she’s not here.

Simon: She told me she needed to use the bathroom

Oh for the Love of God SHUT UP Simon!  I tried to mentally communicate my thoughts.

Chris: She’s downstairs

Simon: Oh no I definitely saw her come up here. She’s been using this bathroom all night.

I stopped trying to use the power of my mind to communicate and began trying to make Simon’s head explode.

Chris opened the door.

A tidal wave of awkwardness drenched us all and I thought “This could not get worse”

Simon: are you ready? I know you said you wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible

I was wrong. It got worse.

I hugged Gwynnie (I hate hugging her, I can feel her bones when I do) thanked her the party and walked to the car only stopping to take 4 gift bags, a bunch of appetizers and bottle of wine.

Oy to the vey. I didn’t bother to explain to Simon how what he had done was AWFUL and all that rum (those Burning Pineapples were GOOD) made me awfully sleepy anyway.  I was unconscious before we hit Bridgehamton.

I had just finished writing the pieces and would give myself a break before proofreading them when the beep boop of Skype sang out.

Ah damn. That wasn’t the break I was thinking of. I was more thinking an episode of Bob’s Burgers. And then maybe getting an actual burger from The Emerald Inn. Or a French Dip. Oh I was hungry.

Gwynnie X: Hey sweetie.

Cam: Yo. You still in the Hamptons.

Gwynnie X: Yeah my mom has the kids again. They love being in the city with her during the summer. She spoils them rotten. We’re going back to LA on Tuesday.

Cam: What’s going on in LA

Gwynnie X: Chris is there. Well he left the morning after the party.

Cam: Yeah

Long awkward pause

Gwynnie X: I’m really sorry you had to see that.

Cam: couples fight. It happens. I have these two friends they say they have never fought once in almost 20 years.

Gwynnie X: wow! How do they do that?

Cam: They never talk. Seriously. I don’t think they’ve made eye contact in a decade. Conflicts will arise. You two are not twins. Love is a train not a station.

Gwynnie sighed one of those deep contemplative sighed that made me hope I’d made her feel a little better.

Gwynne X: Did you like the movie?

Cam: Fuck no!

Gwynnie’s eyes became very wide. I was reminded that I was the ONLY person in her life who talks to her like this.

Cam: Honey it was shelved for two years for a reason. Why did you want people to see that?

Gwynnie X: I want to improve myself. Grow as an artist. I want an Oscar.

Cam: You HAVE an Oscar

Gwynnie X: Just one!

Cam: (sigh) is this what you originally had planned for the party?

Gwynnie X: well no, but I was turned down for a movie. It went to Jennifer Lopez. She’s going to play a woman who falls in love her sperm donor.

Cam: wow that sounds…awful.

Gwynnie X: yeah, but Judy Greer is her best friend. I never have a best friend in movies. I thought this could be a good way to figure out why I’m not getting cast in these movies.

Aw so this was the rub. The Rom Com. Gwynnie told me about this the first night I met her. She’s always wanted to be a rom com gal, but alas in order to be a rom com gal, the average girl on the street needs to look at you and say “I could be her best friend!” Nobody wants to be Gwynnie’s best friend. Just maintaining the casual every once in a while skype with her, is fucking exhausting.

Gwynnie X: oh and expect a package this week. So many people left without their gift bags I packed up six 

and sent them to you.

Oh. My. God. I had already sold three of digital cameras in the 4 gift bags I took. Six more? I ran the number in my head. I was finally going to be able to pay my tax bill to the state of New York.

Cam: wow thanks.

Gwynnie X: Why don’t you come out to LA next weekend? I could buy you some summer clothes.

Part of me gets pissed off when she acts like my mom. Part of me is reminded that’s why she’s always buying me stuff. A third part of me knows I need the stuff she buys me. The rest of me is just a whore.

Cam: Oh honey that’s so generous but I have a jam packed schedule this week.

That was true.

Cam: You know I could move some stuff around on Tuesday afternoon. Don’t you have that Iron Man prem? I could hang with you while you get hair and makeup done.

Gwynnie X: Oh that would be fun. I’ll bring you some jewelry. Do you need any shoes? The hair and makeup seesh will be in a hotel next the theater.

Cam: Send me the deets.

I signed off, reminding Gwynnie that I loved her.

Oh Gwynnie that wounded bird of girl, so generous with her toys.

Because of course, she never ever pays for them.

I was in the middle of something? What was it?

Was I was going to watch an episode of Bob’s Burgers or was I going to order to a burger?

Ah fuck it I’ll do both. 

I appreciate it when people take risks on the red carpet but I also understand why the stars are hesitant. It can’t be easy to take a chance when you know the whole world will watch and judge you for it.

This could have been a very tricky look to pull off but when I saw how effortless Heather Graham looked in this bright blue skirt I fell in love.

The ageless Heather, looking impossible fresh so early in the morning for her appearance on the Today Show wore a Katharine Kidd ‘Ivonne’ skirt from her Fall 2013 collection with a dripping gold floral embellishment. By pairing a with a simple but very unique navy top and simple dark blue flats complementing the skirt without drawing focus away from it, allowing her to be dramatic without being overwhelmed.

Her styling could not have been more perfect. The simple gold jewelry, accented the gold embellishment, and her bright pink lip provided the perfect amount of contrast. Amazing!

Heather Graham hasn't aged a day since I watched her play Annie on Twin Peaks when I was in high school? What’s her secret? I think she’s a wizard. 

Buy the skirt here

Welcome to Spring! Garden Party: The Inside Goop Vol 1

*While inspired by events both observed in the media and actually experienced by the author, this is work of pure parody and is entirely fictional.

 

Welcome to the Spring! Garden Party TIG Vol. 1

Ah Saturday night in Manhattan. Playground of the rich and famous. I am neither. I am a ‘data entry specialist’ by day, entertainment reporter by night, ghostwriter on weekends. When do I sleep? Oh sleep is so last season.

I’d had a long week, 2 hours of overtime on Wednesday, Friday and events to cover on Tuesday and Thursday meant I came home on Friday night at 9pm and woke up on the couch in still in my work clothes at 1am. Fortunately I live in a teeny tiny Upper West side studio apt so I was able to disrobe and then crawl the 3 ft from my couch to my bed and fall back asleep until 7am, when my cat Agent Cooper began jumping on my head.

Saturday was a whirlwind. I had SO MUCH TV I needed to watch but some much other things I needed to do. I hadn’t been wearing underwear Wednesday as it was all dirty and my Saturday morning breakfast was rice cakes, edamame and personalized M&M’s from my friends’ wedding “Congrats Tom & Tim”.  So I showered was forced to wear daisy dukes under a bee costume to the Laundromat (fortunately there were two women there in wedding gowns), raced to the library, paid my late fees ( $30? How did that happen?) picked up new books, picked up tacos, raced back to Laundromat, ate tacos and read my book while clothes dried (You can’t leave while they dry, washers lock, dryers do not), got stared at by pervy looking homeless man, took my clothes home, went to Traders Joe on 72^nd, realized I was still wearing bee costume, read two chapters of my new book (The Weight of Blood by Laura McHugh, its already really good) in line, put food away, took out the garbage, put all the dishes in sink in hot soapy water, realized I’d forgotten a few things, headed to the Fairway where the prices are higher but lines are shorter, realized I was still in  bee costume, got a call from Neal, nope no dancing at the Edgewater Hilton tonight, much too swamped, paid for my things, realized as I was walking home, I’d missed the close out sale at Loehmann’s, berated myself for missing out on discount perfume, got text from Shilpa asking me if I would be coming to see her DJ at the Edgewater Hilton? said No, felt guilty, realized I really did want to go but at just had so much to do, asked “Lunch next week?”, arrived home, washed dishes, realized “holy crap its 5pm” put clothes away, realized I forgot to do a load of sheets and towels, checked email, spent few moments weeping over how many emails I had to reply to, updated my calendar, make new grocery list as I would need food that could be microwaved since I had two more events to cover next week and I would have no time to cook, texted guy I am ghostwriting memoir for, prayed he’d cancel for tomorrow, moaned when he said “we are on for brunch!”, texted Matt to apologize for not going to his open house tomorrow ooh and ah over how great the apt he’s brokering for is, replied to more emails, set more to do’s on calendar for next week, put dishes away, decided to order enchiladas for dinner, decided to pick them up so I could drink a margarita while I was waiting for them, fed the cat, congratulated myself for grocery shopping, laundry, dishes, emails, headed to restaurant to order enchiladas & margarita, realized as I was sitting there, I had forgotten to wash my hair in shower that morning & I was still wearing bee costume, went home, ate half of enchiladas, opted not to watch Hannibal as it was dark out, while watching CBS Thursday night line, laughed at Big Bang Theory, sighed over declining quality in Elementary, picked out outfit for tomorrow so I could just roll out of bed and get dressed, took shower remembering to wash hair, put on jammies, rolled on floor with cat for 20 minutes rejoicing in the sheer unbridled ecstasy that is clean comfy jammies, felt guilty for 5 minutes over all the suffering in the rest of the world, checked my bank balances, cringed for a few moments and reminded myself to take the steaks back to Trader Joe’s for a refund tomorrow, returned a few more emails, updated my calendar, wrote out to do list for tomorrow, and began researching  an actor I’m Ghostwriting and realized to my horror it was 10pm.

No wonder I was so sleepy.

I spent about two hours doing research on unnamed washed up actor, his one big role, profoundly unremarkable career that followed and ensuing DUI’s. Finally around midnight I’d had enough to material to interview him on, and decided to get my TV watching, I was just about to find out who the killer was on Castle when that irritatingly familiar soft twang of “beep boop” that told me I had a  Skype call coming in. 

It was almost 1am.

Now there were only three people who skyped me. An ex who had found God, heroin and God again, who occasionally would try to skype at 3am Yakima time which it would not be for six hours. Mindy in Japan but we would always schedule it in advance since she’s 13 hours ahead.

That left only one person.

In my career as an entertainment reporter, I’ve interviewed hundreds of celebrities on red carpets at movie premieres. Sometimes I met then over and over. They rarely remember me. I have developed friendships with exactly two. A fashion designer you may have but probably haven’t heard of. And an Academy award winning actress who has been on the cover of People, Vanity Fair, US, Entertainment Weekly, Bazaar, and countless gossip rags. She’s been interviewed on the View, Ellen, Oprah, Letterman, Kimmel, and hosted Saturday Night Live. Twice.

 You haven’t heard of her? I already don’t believe you.

And yes this woman was calling.

We talk about once a week and while I rarely see her in person. Our relationship is…confusing to me. I’m going to change some things because I want to preserve her privacy.

Gwynnie X: Hey how are you?

Cameron G: Oh so tired. I had two events this week. I’m so happy to have a little extra $ but I’m so sleepy I’m worried I’ll walk in front of a cab and die.

I could see people walking behind her carrying trays, and those plastic tubs caterers use when cleaning up for the night I knew what that meant.

Cameron G: Did you have party today?

I watched Gwynnie’s mouth etch into a thin line that screamed “Look how bravely I’m handling my burden”

Gwynnie X: yes my welcome spring garden party and I was so awful. A disaster a complete disaster. It’s going to be in all the papers tomorrow. I want to die!  

Of course I’d heard this from Gwynnie before. The ‘disaster’ that has destroyed her entire life meaning she went on a red carpet with a torn hem that absolutely no one noticed. And real problems that were still far from the ‘disasters’. When she published a recipe but put 3 tablespoons of dry mustard rather than 1/3 of a teaspoon leading to some epically over spiced and inedible chicken breasts.

Gwynnie X: I worked so hard and the cater waiters ruined everything!

As she said this two men carry what looked to be table clothes and candelabras (who has brass candelabras at a garden party?) heard her say this and exchanged a look that said “oh for fucks sake…’ I’m going to go out on a limb now her complaint was going to be pretty fucking stupid.

Gwynnie X: you know Nick’s Cove in West Marin county with their famous Bloody Mary’s?

Cameron G: Yeah sure (Lying)

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I learned from past experience to just say yes otherwise she’s stop her story to tell me about this place for 20 minutes. Gwynnie is always so amazed when I have no idea what she’s talking about I find its easier to just play along.

Gwynnie X: You know how they garnish their Bloody Mary’s with pickled green beans?

Cameron G: yes (lying)

And can I just take a moment to comment on this woman’s bizarre obsession with brine? She’s pickles EVERYTHING.

Gwynnie X:So I spent all day yesterday prepping the green beans and all the waiters had to do was put a green bean in the bloody mary before they served it.

Cameron G: and they forgot

Gwynnie X: they forgot! I didn’t even realize til the party was over and I was in the kitchen and there on the counter are the beans jars unopened!

So those beans so absolutely critical to the drink were excluded and nobody noticed? Yes why not just kill yourself now.

Gwynnie X: And it was really chilly and overcast. I mean seriously! Its April. How can I have a Spring Garden party on a chilly overcast day?

Leave it to Gwynnie to be genuinely surprised the weather won’t cooperate with her social plans.

Cameron G: I’m surprised its still that cold in LA.

Gwynnie gave her ‘caught’ face. Its when you catch her not exactly lying but failing to disclose something. Her lips purse into this ‘O’ and she looks like a fish.

Gwynnie X: I’m in East Hampton. I didn’t tell you? Well maybe its because I knew you couldn’t come this weekend. I wish you’d been here so at least I would have had somebody to rolls my eyes to.

Cameron G: and why couldn’t’ I be there at the party?

Gwynnie X: You had that expo with Neal. Is he still gay?

Cameron G: well yeah he’s gay its not hair dye it doesn’t wash out and that LGBT expo was two weeks ago.

Full disclosure I was a bit touched, the fact that she remembered this and commented on it mean she had stop listening the conga line of Gwynnie Clones singing "I gotta be me!" in her head for a moment and actually paid attention to something I said.

Fish face again. Gwynnie and I do this A LOT. I knew exactly why she didn’t’ invite me.

Let me back up.

Gwynnie and I had met several times on red carpets (she never remember me of course) but we became friends ( I gave her my card, I nearly passed out when she actually called me) at a summer party in the Hamptons on Donna Karan’s estate.

I go to so many of these parties as a reporter. Its an odd thing. I am there to work as well as socialize. And like the 14 year old girl I am to soak up as much gossip as possible. I may not fit in but I have a role. When I have gone along JUST to socialize I don’t have a role and its awkward for them. They being the rich and beautiful. They see me walk in take one look at my shoes and go “Not one of us!”.

Gwynnie X: Well I knew… remember Donna’s party when all anyone could talk about was your shoes?

Cameron G: Yes (lying)

I knew people had noticed my shoes because everyone kept looking at my feet but really? That being said I could believe it. During the party Donna had put a basket of canvas slip ons(that clocked in at a breathtaking $498 a pair) near the staircase to the beach. As everyone took off their shoes there was a plank to the put them on a man to guard them. The reason being was there was $18,000 worth of shoes on that plank. I wanted to bash the man over the head with a rock, steal the shoes, ebay them and use the money to send my niece ot college.

The rich and famous are different from you and me. The biggest difference being that they are rich. They never have to worry “will the bottom of my shoes wear out before I can afford to buy another pair?” “Do I have enough left in my bank account to cover that check I wrote to Con Ed?” “will that bus driver let on every though my metrocard is empty or will I have to walk 30 blocks home in this downpour with no umbrella?” That lack of worry frees up their brains to obsess about the most ridiculous things.

Things like pickled green beans.

Gwynnie X: well I just hate it when people judge you

Cameron G: I think that’s very kind of you (lying)

Okay here the party that makes me sigh. Gwynnie may seem like the most judgey person EVER but she’s doesn’t see it as judgment. She sees it as ‘evaluation for purposes of recommending improvement’. No really does.

I think the real reason we became friends is the pity she felt for me, when I told her I had bought the dress she just complimented from a rack in front of my grocery store for $5 (Associated Grocers corner of W 97^th and Amsterdam). She gazed at me, face frozen in horror and took me in her arms and wept. She smelled really good so I just let her do it.

What I will never be able to make Gwynnie understand was that in my mind I SCORED when I bought that dress. $5 for perfectly good dress! Yeah baby!

Gwynnie X: … so that’s when I realized I hadn’t put the ginger in. I mean how can you effectively detox without ginger?

Dear lord this woman spends so much time ‘detoxing’ I wonder when she finds time to tox. Once for my birthday she gave me a $250 gift certificate for a ‘cleansing fast’ that cost $525 a week. First off there is no such thing as a ‘cleansing fast’ that just you putting a ribbon on your eating disorder. Secondly there are children all over this nation going to bed hungry and you are paying over $500 to STARVE? That a sign that a) you have too much money and b) you really need to sit down and take a long hard look at your life.

Gwynnnie X: …this has been an issue for forever. I mean since I was a child the other kids in school were so jealous of me, my beauty and natural talents, but were so lacking in self-awareness they couldn’t express it other than to convince themselves they hated me, which is course is ridiculous.

She had been talking for 20 minute while I zoned out and never even noticed. Sometimes I had fallen asleep while skyping and she doesn’t notice that either. And this woman was berating others for their lack of self-awareness.

Oh I zoned out again.

Gwynnie X: … So I said to Martha, I did check the weather map!  And she was all well when I checked weather map it said it would be nice…

Somehow I imagined Martha Stewart bullied the internet to the point where it lied to her just to make her go away.

Gwynnie X: …and then when everyone was leaving Kate was all “oh this is the gift bag? I already have camera” and she took the camera out handed it to me said “Maybe you could donate it” Have you ever heard of anything so rude?

Cameron G: No (yes literally thousands of things that were so much ruder than that)

For instance going on and on about a party you threw with a  friend you didn’t invite to that party.

Gwynnie X: …and some of the models I hired to attend were eating. I specifically told them NOT to eat the food. That was for guests.

Cameron G: you hired models to hang out at the party?

Gwynnie does this, and she’s explained it to me 50 times but I still don’t get it.

Gwynnie X:well there were so many photographers  at the party and you want to make sure the guests are aesthetically pleasing.

Cause nothing make a party more fun than having a bunch of “aesthetically pleasing’ strangers wondering around who are hungry and forbidden to touch the yummy food. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was one of those “aesthetically unpleasant’ people.

Gwynnie X: and at one point I was walking across the lawn and my Kate Spade Stiletto got stuck in the grass and this photographer was taking a picture of me sprawled on the grass and Chris comes up and he’s all like “why are you on the ground?” Like I did the faceplant on purpose!

Uh oh Chris bashing time. This could go on for hours. Holy crap it had already been an hour! No wonder I was zoning out. I had to sleep.

Cameron G: Gwynnie its 2am, I have a 11am brunch meeting tomorrow. Don’t you need to check on your kids?

Gwynnie X: my mom has them. She took them into the city. She wants to take them shopping tomorrow.  And Chris left, he has something he has to do in LA.

Cameron G: when did he leave

Gwynnie X: couple of hours ago.

Do you know a couple you’re friends with and everyone who knows them wonder why they are together? Part of you wants to scream “Oh break up already!” in all fairness I’ve never actually spent time with them, socially but whenever I ask about him he’s in LA or London or touring. Red flags all over the place.

Cameron G: Honey I have to sleep.

Gwynnie X: oh yeah well I’m sleepy too.

(I’m pretty sure she was lying).

We signed off but I didn’t go to sleep right away. It was 2:20am and I through a coat over my  jammies and headed to Fred’s on Amsterdam. I could not stop thinking about a bloody mary.

 

 

 

Rants and Rave Sept 2nd, 2012

There are from 2012...so far
 

Rants and Raves from the week of August 27th to Sept 2nd.

Jobs

Rant: A few weeks ago I was placed in a temp position at a wonderful company just a quick 20 minute commute from my apt that provided free fruit and greek yoghurt. The people were wonderful, the work was familiar. I came to realize that the woman who quit this position was doing a lot of busy work, very inefficiently. I was praised because I easily able to cut time down and eliminate duplicate work.

Rant: I did such a job showing them how to be efficient and eliminate time wasting they realized they didn’t need me. On Tuesday Aug 28th they let me go.

Rave: My supervisor said he’d give a great recommendation.

Rant: I’ve been having such trouble finding work, and I finally find a good position at a great company that paid well. Its like being presented with a porterhouse steak taking one bite having it torn away and replaced with a big mac. Its soul crushing.

Rave: I have a job interview set up for Tuesday.

Phone

Rant: My super evil, hates me and attempts to kill me in my sleep, straight for Satan cell phone, who would swallow a bottle of sleeping pills RIGHT when I needed it be there for me most, finally made good on its suicide threats. More than once I was left weeping after listening to a voice mail telling me I had a job offer and then spending 20 minutes pleading with my phone to turn on. Alas 10 days ago it beeped its final beep made a dignity free sashay into the afterlife of electronic devices.

So now jobless, I suddentlyt found myself needed a new phone. Cause they cost what 50 cents? 2 dollars?

Rave: Charity a girl who was really mean to me in high school has reconnected with me on Facebook and now she’s really nice to me. She sent me an old Verizon Smartphone she didn’t use anymore.

Rant: I’m a prepaid plan, so I couldn’t use. I had to buy a new phone and why wouldn’t I? I’m rolling in cash!

Rave: it was only $60. Not that it didn’t hurt me but it hurt me a lot less than the $170 I had to spent last time I had to buy a new phone.

sub Rave: I will be paying $23 less a month for phone service.

Mini Rave: maybe because all my friends are out of town for the Labor day weekend but I’ve FINALLY cleaned out my closet. My other goal? clean out my bookshelf and weed through my CD’s since I almost never listen to music.

One question. What to do with my old Playboys? Normally I put my magazines in the laundry room or donate them to ER’s. I can’ do that with my Playboys. Ideas?

Ruby Sparks ***

In my own weird way, I don’t mind most movie cliches. Yes sometimes they annoy me, but for the most part I accept them. I’m always delighted when my expectations are subverted. But there is one cliche I freaking HATE.

The manic pixie dream girl. I HATE HATE HATE IT.

From Wikipedia : Film critic Nathan Rabin, who coined the term after seeing Caroline "Miss" English in Elizabethtown (2005), describes the MPDG as "that bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures."[

I found the inherently misogynistic nature of this character insulting.

Along comes RUBY SPARKS from Fox Searchlight, a film directed by Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris. Written by Zoe Kazan. Running time: 104 minutes. Rated R (for for language including some sexual references, and for some drug use).

We meet Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano) a tortured young writer (we know he’s tortured because he wears black rimmed glasses, slouchy cardigans, and types on a manual typewriter) still riding the success of his first novel (he is clearly very wealthy, he lives in a two story house with a pool and a sweeping view of LA) but tormented by writers block. A visit to his shrink (Elliot Gould) reveals he takes almost no responsibility for his life. He feels his first novel was a freak occurrence, he’s still bitterly angry at his first girlfriend and he is disappointed in his dog. Yes you read that last sentence right. He obtained the terrier named Scotty because he thought it would lead to him meeting girls in the park. Turns out the dog doesn’t like strangers.

His muse comes to him in a dream. An ethereal backlit beauty played by Zoe Kazan (who also wrote the screenplay) looking disturbingly like a red headed Zooey Deschanel right down to her freakishly large Japanese anime blue eyes. Calvin names her Ruby and begins to write about her. He then awakes one morning to find her in his kitchen wearing an appropriately adorable pair of striped panties. Is she real? Yes Calvin’s brother Harry can see her.

Calvin realizes he can control her by writing about her (he types out that she speaks french and she instantly does) and declares he won’t write another word. This of course doesn’t last long.

I have no doubt Zoe Kazan as a young actress in LA has experienced a considerable amount of degrading treatment. From cutting remarks about her looks to people trying to manipulate her feelings. One of the most important aspects of the manic pixie dream girl is she has no life of her own. No job, no family, no friends, no interests, no desires beyond serving the man in her life. As Ruby starts to exist outside of Calvin’s mind. Taking an art class, eating dinner with friends Calvin can’t cope and starts to malnipulate her again. While the studio will no doubt sell this as a Rom Com its much more of dark fantasy with teeth. It touches on but alas doesn’t really explore Calvin’s desire to control the women in his life and his failure to take responsibility for his own happiness. When Calvin runs into his ex girlfriend at a party we start to see how deep his delusions lay and his shocking capacity for cruelty.

The performances are wonderful, even the supporting performances. I really liked this movie I just wish it had the courage to go past the rom com mold into the the dark and dramatic character study it touched on.

Do I reccomend this? I'm honestly not sure.

http://www.youtube.com/user/foxsearchlight?v=xb3_AE-UinY

The Imperfect Storm

There was a survey done once asking people about their greatest fear. The number one fear was public speaking. The number three fear is death. Jerry Seinfeld pointed out that means when attending a funeral people “would rather be in the coffin then delivering the eulogy.”

I have never understood this. Once on the F train, I heard a couple debating whether or not to see a movie and I inserted myself in the conversation to tell them about the documentary “The Cove”. I have no problem walking up to strangers and saying hi. When the magician asks for ‘assistance from the audience’ I don’t even wait for him to point at me, I just leap up onto the stage. When I was a volunteer at Northwest Film Forum I pioneered the idea of a “fun facts” presentation where I would introduce the film with trivia.

I have no problem with public speaking. If anything I adore it. Some of the most fun I’ve ever had was giving tours of KEXP studios in Seattle.

I also have a bizarre knack for attracting unusual circumstances.

I wasn’t really thinking about this one Friday afternoon when my friend Nancy called me and suggested we met up for happy hour appetizers and drinks. We decided to hit the Revolution Café at the Experience Music Project in the Seattle Center. We chatted, caught up then this woman who appeared with clothes and accessories and said “everyone dress up 80’s costume contest in 10 minutes.” I pulled on a gold lame shirt with shoulder pads, gave myself a sideways pony tail and slashed thick stripes magenta blush on my cheeks.

When it came time for judging, there was really nothing to distinguish me from the other contestants. Yes, I committed to the makeup in a way the other two hadn’t but I couldn’t count on that. So I did what I do best. I made a spectacle of myself.

I broke into the “Can’t Touch This” dance from the MC Hammer video of the same name. If you’ve ever seen me in a gay nightclub you know I can’t dance. I am an embarrassment to the art of dancing. But what I lack in rhythm I make up for in shamelessness. All the other two woman could do was stare in horror as I cabbage- patched my way across the room, off beat despite the fact there wasn’t any music.

I won. I received a $50 gift card to the Sonic Store (which of course I never used) and two tickets to the Seattle Storm game that very night!

Ugh.

One thing I take great pride in that many people do not quite understand about me is in the years I was imprisoned in Oak Harbor High School aka hell on earth, I NEVER ONCE attended a single sporting event. Nope, not one. No homecoming games, no away games. NOTHING. Which is saying something, considering Oak Harbor is the sort of hick town where the entire population showed up to high school games.

I had no desire to go to a basketball game then. I have no desire to see one…ever.

The woman was damn near panicking. I had to go! It would be such fun! I had to go! There was a contest there too! I could win!

I went back to the snacking and drinking with Nancy. She wouldn’t leave me alone.

“These games are so much fun!” Sigh. I told her I’d go just to get her to leave me alone.

Nancy and I chatted then she wanted to head home to her husband and dog. I started to leave, but then Nancy said “well why don’t you go? Just check it out if it’s boring you can leave.”

Oh what the hell.

I headed into the Coliseum (NO! I will not call it the Key Arena and you can’t make me!!!!).

I strolled around. That place really a microcosm of America, on the upper levels, where the seats are cheaper, there is pizza, beer, hot dogs. On the lower levels, where the seats cost a small fortune, you can get fresh sushi, Ivars Clam Chowder (sigh…) and microbrews. I should take a moment to point out that I still had my 80’s garb on. The gold lame blouse with the shoulder pads, magenta blush and sideways ponytail. I kept waiting for someone to ask me what I was up but no one did. Odd.

I went to found my seat as I casually headed down a small tunnel I saw the now dour faced woman who was begging me to go to the game glumly climbing the stairs. She saw me. Her face lit up.

She grabbed my hand and suddenly started dragging me behind her.

“Oh “she cried. “I was getting so scared!”

Scared?

We go flying past the lower level gourmet food courts, past the staggeringly overpriced merchandise booths, down stairs, through doors that stated ominously “NO ADMITTANCE BY GENERAL PUBLIC” Down a narrow hallway, BAM, into another even more narrow hallway while I struggled to keep up taking frantic baby steps in my strappy high heeled sandals, to another set of doors BAM! We were vomited directly onto the floor of basketball court, Seattle Storm taking on some other team just 20 ft away.

Ah crap.

“Okay” the woman says (why don’t I know her name by this point?) “Wait here, it will start in about 10 minutes” and she was off like a shot.

Um…what will begin in 10 minutes?

I started to feel a bit of panic, but then I stepped back and assessed the situation. Holy crap. I was ON THE FLOOR of the Coliseum. The Storm was barely 20 ft away. I was standing UNDER the bleachers. I had just barreled past giant signs telling me to keep out and I had permission to be there. I looked around at this exclusive area I had been granted access to and couldn’t help but wonder if it was supposed to smell like that.

That was when I noticed a tall red headed girl clad in Madonna garb circa 1987 watching the game. She must have felt my eyes on her because she turned around and smiled. Her name was Teresa and she couldn’t have been more than 19 despite the fact she was at least 6ft tall.

“Oh you’re here for the costume contest too! Liz said she was going to get the other contestants.”

I notice the woman I now knew as Liz approaching an older gentleman holding a hat, sunglasses and a white blazer the kind Sonny Crocket would have worn while tearing through the everglades while Glenn Fry played in the background.

It all made sense.

It was 80’s night here at the Seattle Storm. There was a costume contest to take place at the halftime show. It’s pretty hard to have a contest with only person. I was recruited from the Revolution Café. The gentleman was sitting in one of the lowest areas in the arena, the part reserved for people with season passes.

A horn sounded and the players left the court. Liz reappeared.

“Okay come this way” We walked across the court DIRECTLY UNDER THE HOOP (so cool) to an aisle. The gentlemen was sitting next to us, now looking as pathetic as Sonny Crocket would trying to pull off the Miami Vice look at 60 something.

“Okay you’ll be first,” Liz said motioning to Teresa. “We’ll introduce you and walk out maybe do a little dance and go stand near the S in Storm. Then you walk to the T” she pointed to me. “then Mr. Palmer go the O”

Mr. Palmer tipped his hat to Liz in that old school charmer kind of way that only Southern men and femme lesbians can get away with.

Doppler, the Seattle Storm mascot (no I don’t get it either) came out. The crowd was informed of where we sat (because our row would get a prize too) and to vote with their claps.

The prizes were half bad either. A gift certificate for a day spa. Brunch for two at the Space Needle. Now I really wanted to win.

Teresa went out first. I give her props because she had to go first. Basically she swung her hips and did a little spin. Still her outfit could play to the crowd. My gold lame shoulder padded blouse had seen better days. My magenta blush wasn’t going to read to the stands. I had to play this JUST right.

“And now please welcome Cameron!”

I just want you to know that from beginning to end this took MAYBE 10 minutes. And that includes Teresa’s and Mr. Palmer being introduced. My introduction to my taking my place on the T in Storm took 1 minute? Maybe 2?. I’m slowing this WAY down to explain it to you.

I spun onto the basketball court and immediately started doing the robot. The crowd reacted. I did a few spins and then attempted to moonwalk. That didn’t go so well but the crowd seemed to enjoy my attempt.

But hey I studied gymnastics as a child (until my breasts ballooned up to a C up in a single summer) so I decided to throw in a nice cartwheel.

I did a little jog as I would have to go backwards away from T in Storm to start on my right hand. I did a kick and put my right hand down. My legs went into the air. My left hand planted. A gentle rustle of fabric, a tickling sensation as my dress slid from my body and landed with a soft ‘whomp’ onto the heavily polished floor of the basketball court, completely obscuring my vision and exposing a torso that had seen neither the sun nor a gym since the first Bush administration to the 7,000 plus spectators.

Time seemed to stop.

While it is difficult to embarrass me it is NOT impossible, and unexpectedly flashing an arena is one way to accomplish this. It was certainly not the first time (nor would it be the last) I would in a state of undress in public, there are things to consider.

For all my lovers who have ever told me “all my other girlfriends wore matching bra and panty sets” women only do this in the courting stage, once we get past that the granny panties come out. On display was my gold and black leopard print bra and badly mismatched pastel flowered satin panties, along with my unshaved thighs with the vertical scars I acquired when distracted while playing the Kevin Bacon game I plunged thought the roof of a theater in 1994.

If there was one small mercy it was that I could not see the undoubtly horrified faces of the crowd. But as my legs quickly left the apex and began their inevitable descent another horror overcame me. While my black dress now hanging from my armpits and draped across my face meant when my feet clad in high heeled sandals came down I wouldn’t be able to see where I should put them down. They came down anyway, skittering across the floor and slamming my left knee into the ground.

A gasp from the crowd. I had a chance to get them back. A pity vote!

I sprang up into a triumphant V, my arms stretched to the sky, even as my knee caught fire and pleaded with me to sit down. The crowd screamed. I took a cue from the rock music and swung my hips to disguise the incredible pain I was in as I limped toward Teresa to take my place on the T, high fiving Doppler on my way.

Her face was twisted with concerned as she asked, “Are you okay?” I lied and said yes.

We turned our attention to Mr. Palmer now rising to take his little spin. The crowd sprung to its feet and exploded.

I heard Teresa sigh, and then she leaned in and whispered “we’re toast”.

It was so unfair. I guess Mr. Palmer was a regular at the games and beloved by the crowd by whatever standard sports fan apply to such things.

The whole “vote with your voice!” as Liz pointed to each of us was almost silly. Teresa and I both knew Mr. Palmer had it. I felt bad for Teresa, the only person in this group who actually MEANT to be part of this competition. But I felt worse for me, because I really wanted those gift certificates.

I danced off the court with Doppler almost supporting me, as much as he/she could because my knee was really starting to swell up.

I saw the team doctor, who iced me up and gave me Motrin and told me rest for a few days. She could have given a script for painkillers but no.

I tried to watch the game but it was REALLY boring. Lots of squeaking, lots of running. Okay time to go. I stepped out of the arena past the throngs of people limping on my sore knee, still clad in my gold lame shirt and my sideways ponytail, blinking in the pale grey of an overcast Seattle and realizing with amazement only 27 minutes had past since I walked in.