Friday, March 23, 2007

Low-Rent and High (In Three Parts)

Part the First


Seen today in the building where I work:


Please respect the building tenants and do not urinate in the stairwells.


(And yes, there has evidently been a veritable epidemic of stairwell peeing in my office building. Nice.)


Part the Second

Sweet Dub gave me a picture of himself posing with the director of the movie he's been working on. I took it to work with me because I thought it was hilarious. First of all, Sweet Dub does not have a small head (no, that's not a euphemism, you dirty, dirty, naughty thing), but the director? His head looks about the size of a battleship in this picture, dwarfing my husband's head to the size of a coconut. Some might say this is symbolic of how he thinks of himself, but certainly I would never take it there. No, indeedy. I know which side my bread is buttered on. But the director is also sneering mockingly at the camera, clearly cheesing it up a bit. It makes me laugh just to look at it. So when Sweet Dub called a few minutes ago, I mentioned that I was looking at the picture.


"You hung it up at work?" he said.


"Yeah, it's up on my bulletin board," I said.


"That's kind of goofy," he said.


Hello? Have you just met me? Goofy is my middle name.


Part the Third


Speaking of brushes with celebrity, on Monday afternoon, I worked half a day in the office and half a day at home after lunching with the lovely Cee, her sister, and an anonymous friend who shall remain nameless in the interest of anonymity. At about 4:30, I realized Sweet Dub and Viva would be home soon, and there was nothing to eat for dinner. I hopped into my BlahBlahMobile and motored on over to the local Gelson's on the Los Feliz/Silverlake border. You know the one, across the street from Trader Joe's? I grabbed a cart and swung over toward the meat product section, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a smartly-yet-funkily-dressed fellow with locs, pushing a cart. I am usually not one to celeb-gawk, but I did a double take, because for a split second I thought it was Wyclef Jean, but then I realized it was will.i.am. At the same time, he realized he had been recognized, and broke out in a big smile, and said hello. I am quite sure he was admiring my snazzy red boots. I said hello, and then, feeling all "first day of high school" geeky, I ducked my head and ran off to get some boneless skinless chicken. Because that's how I roll, baby.


Yo ho ho and a bottle of Tums.

4 comments:

themikestand said...

I have nothing snappy or funny to say. Just that I enjoyed reading this post. I'm conflicted on the whole 'celebrity gawking' thing, but I think you handled it perfectly. Nobody got embarrassed, and you got blog-fodder. Win-win. And win (me.)

Cee in SF said...

Lunch was fab! I love how our mutual friend got super anonymous status. Very covert.

I'm fascinated by people with large heads. Giada from Everyday Italian freaks me out with her huge head!

Nice celeb spotting. I only ever run into old co-workers at Gelsons.

E. said...

I love goofy. And I love the word "goofy."

Back when I lived in LA, I sat next to Meryl Streep at a production of Twelfth Night at the Topanga Canyon open air theater. She was with her kid, wearing a baseball hat, and looking like she did not want to be recognized, so I stuffed my urge to say "Whoa! You're Meryl Streep!" and just let the woman enjoy her play in peace. It was an act of the utmost restraint.

Lisa Blah Blah said...

Hey, the funny thing is that I was in that same store a few days later and saw the mutual anonymous friend Cee and I had lunch with. It was not quite as freaky as seeing will.i.am. However, it made me feel slightly dirty, as if I needed a shower.

But maybe that's because I hadn't showered yet that day.

e: I make every effort not to bother celebrities when I see them. I feel like they deserve their moments of peace and quiet, too. I know there are some who vehemently disagree with me - "Hey, they chose to be a public figure" - but I think there's something to be said for respecting people's boundaries.