My hairdresser was in a movie. She said it was an original indy version of a Jennifer Aniston flick called “Catch and Release.” I googled that and found it starred Jennifer Garner. So, I must have one of the details confused. We aren’t close friends, so a call out of nowhere for clarification on this matter seems kinda stalkerish. No worries, I will grill her about it after my hair grows out a bit more.
Anyway, she played a hairdresser. To me, that seems a bit too on the nose, and I asked her if she has concerns about being typecast. She said she does.
Brace yourselves, people!
She almost cut Susan Sarandon’s hair. She didn’t actually meet her or do her hair, but she could have, if her portfolio had been chosen by Susan Sarandon’s personal assistant, or maybe even by Sarandon herself. I didn’t try to do research on this point. Let’s just pretend, for now, that Susan herself rejected the portfolio and bask for a moment in that warm glow. Imagine she held the folder in her delicate hand and possibly muttered, “Nah” before tossing it aside. Dear god, to be a fly on that wall!
That seems mean-spirited, but I assure you I trust this woman more than I do my husband and have mad respect for her. Yet, I find our seemingly universal fascination with celebrity intriguing and sometimes laughable.
None of us are above it. I’m not. I saw Darryl Isaacs, a local personal injury lawyer, after he got out of a yoga class, and I stared way too long. He’s a big guy, and apparently had had his first yoga class in one of the more advanced rooms. I was in the bunny hot yoga class, and almost died. It wasn’t even my first class. Seriously, I felt bad for like two days after. So, part of me was fascinated that he was still able to stand, and the other part kept yelling at me, “HE WAS ON THE TV! HE IS ONE WITH THE MAGIC BOX! ALL HAIL THE MAGIC BOX!”
My dear Michael has had two run-ins with celebrity. He saw a former Miss America having lunch at “Hometown Buffet.” He also saw the owner of Papa John’s ordering lunch at Qdoba. Go figure. The guy is a huge asshole politically. But, you know, MAGIC BOX.
When Charlotte was in middle school, she met Dawne Gee of Wave 3. Dawne Gee must have been very friendly with her. Charlotte never recovered. We heard about their meeting every time she could work it into a conversation. In fact, it’s become a running joke in the family for whenever one of us won’t let something go.
I guess if I’m honest, which sounds like a phrase one uses when she is about to lie, ’cause why the disclaimer? Anyway, if I’m honest, I would like to be a little more focused on the people I really do know than all the people I don’t. Keep in mind that I said that. It’s a noble thought, and I want credit. We have made plans to go to a comic con where we could meet Walton Goggins. I want to sniff his armpits. I hope that doesn’t make you think less of me. I am the one who had that noble thought, remember?