Celebrity Sightings!

And oh, this is a hell of a post.

First of all, during an audition for ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A FREAKING FIFTH GRADER, (and if Jim makes it, I'm going to freak out and throw him a party) Jim had the pleasure of seeing:

Mario "I'm Naturally Hairless" Lopez

Mark "Mastermind" Burnett

While I got to pass within LIKE HALF AN INCH OF (OMG!):

Anna Friel aka the hottest female British import (from Pushing Daisies)

AND HER HUSBAND, FUCKING DAVID FUCKING THEWLIS OH MY GOD.

I know that sometimes in pictures he can look kinda funky, but fuck he is so hot in person, it's like mindblowing. I nearly tripped over my own feet in excitement, and happily could've skipped work to continue staring, but I figured I needed money more than I needed a restraining order, sooo...

They were with their daughter, and David was carrying her around while they decided where to eat on the Sunset Strip, and it was so cute. Like, "wow, celebrities aren't douche bags!" cute. Who would've guessed?

We're hotter and way richer than you'll ever be

Current Sighting Tally:
Jim: 15
Chelsea: 13

And, to end the post, an obligatory Professor "I have a Pedo-Rapist 'Stache" Lupin:

Celebrity Sightings!

The past few days have been chock full 'o fun, including:

- a night spent in the company of reality tv celebrities
- psychotic landladies
- Verne Troyer sex tapes

No, I haven't allowed myself to watch the sex tape, because there are some things that, once seen, can never be unseen. And as awesome as it would be to scratch my eyes out in terror, only to forever have the image of him getting laid imprinted in my brain, I think I'll have to pass.

Midget sex tapes aside (now that's a phrase I never thought I'd type out), last night I had the pleasure of helping out at Cantoni Furniture's Posh Paw's Gala & Auction - and yes, it included a doggie fashion show, and omg it was the cutest thing. Especially because the dogs were dressed to the nines in $150+ outfits, including hoodies and sweaters. A-freaking-dorable.

And, being there, I got to up my celebrity ante! I saw (get ready for some heavy hitters, people):

The latest Bachelor - yes, the hunky British guy - Matt

(who cut his hair and looks 100x cuter)


Colby "Survivor Runner Up" Donaldson


omG Rachael "I Love the 90's" Harris! I was so excited, especially when I got to chat with her, even though half of our chat included her warning me when a dog darted between my legs and threatened to knock me on my ass, since I was wearing 4" stilettos, oops

AND... someone else.

For the life of me, I cannot remember the name of the actor I met last night, but I KNOW he was very famous, and I KNOW that he's been in a ton of things, but I can't recall any of it, and it's driving me fucking insane. I know, like, two nights from now, I'll bolt awake at 4am and scream his name out, because it came to me in a dream. And then I'll have the fun of scaring the fuck out of Jim, so it'll really be a win-win situation. And speaking of Jim...

Of course today Jim one-upped me, and went ahead and met this lovely lady at work:

Amy motherfucking Smart!

And to think, only a few days ago we were watching her on HBO when Just Friends was on. And, let me just say, Just Friends was fucking epic, and they should've gotten like, Oscars or something. Just sayin'.

Which brings us to our latest tally of:

Jim: 13
Chelsea: 11

Not too shabby.

Celebrity Sightings!

...sort of.

Jim was lucky enough to sell electronics to:

Chris "Leave Britney Alone!" Crocker!

and we both bumped into:

What'shername (Sirbrina? wtf) from Tila Tequila!


at a gay bar on Robertson. No, we were not there for the ladies, but trying to find friends that we were like 80% sure were in the area. I swear. Really. Really.

Also, she was like... 4'5". Why is everyone so damn short in person?

Which brings us to a tally of:
Jim: 12
Chelsea: 7

Soon enough I'll at least catch up to Jim, I swear it!

Oh, wait a sec, I can't end a Chris Crocker-theme post without throwing this out there:

You're welcome.

Killer Bees

So I was totally stung by a bee while I was out with a guy in his pool today. Right in the neck, because apparently that's prime bee stinging territory for me - if anyone remembers, the last time I was stung, I was stung a fabulous five times in the neck when I was inexplicably on a swing and kicked a hornet with my foot.

Luckily for me, unlike the last time I was stung, I didn't spend the next four hours with my head resting on one shoulder, unable to lift it. This time I only experienced mild pain and a lingering feeling that my life is just as absurd as I fear it is.

Fuck that.

In slightly less embarrassing news, Jim and I are still very much enjoying our time in the uber-swanky Saharan Motor Hotel. We've been dining on cereal, PB&Js, and hummus and... tostitos, because the Ralph's across the street somehow only carries cinnamon pita chips (and while they're delicious on their on, not so much bringing the deliciousness with the hummus on top) and 100 calorie mini muffin packs. It might be slightly less decadent then say, oh, staying in the Four Seasons and ordering their exquisite room service, but it suits us.

Jim's working hard, while I'm spending my time attempting to get hours at work, going to casting calls, and reading scripts for "vampire comedies" because that, friends, is my fabulous life. After a... very rough night last night, I'm now sitting on my ass watching Just Friends (one of the best movies ever, IMO) and chugging coke zeros. Yeah, that whole "giving up caffeine" thing? Lasted 2 weeks. Longer than ever before!

Live From The Saharan

Monday marked not only our second full week in LA, but also part 1 of Jim and Chelsea's Big Move. No, we haven't moved into our fabulously swanky new apartment, but we have moved into - drumroll! - The Saharan Motor Hotel!

Wait, what?

Yes indeed, we have taken a step closer and moved out of MJ's lovely pad in Silver Lake, and relocated on the edge of West Hollywood for the last 2 weeks before we can move into our apartment. This place is like the Bates Motel, but with a lot more palm trees.

Okay, not really. It's tacky and it's bright and it's full of foreigners who seem to think that motor hotels are the coolest things ever (at least that's what I deciphered from their excited babblings out by the pool) but it does come with free wifi and hi-def cable, so I really can't complain. And it's right across the street from The Coffee Bean, aka my new crack addiction locale.






And, in addition to not being homeless, I am also no longer jobless! As of today I started at a restaurant on the Sunset Strip, a magical place full of beautiful boutiques boasting buttloads of expensive clothes that I shall never be able to afford, but I still go in there with my sunglasses on and pretend to actually browse so maybe people will think I'm rich and/or famous. I mean the Strip, not the restaurant, although they also have expensive food that I can't, at this moment, afford.

Luckily for me, the only dress-code requirement is "black" and for anyone who's ever met me, you already know that 95% of my wardrobe is black. Of course that didn't stop me from going shopping today and buying 4 more black outfits, but I like to think of them as an investment, seeing as I'll wear them at work and out on the town. Have I ever mentioned that I'm a pro at rationalizing?

So for now, while we're living it up in the "motor hotel" and splurging on new outfits, Jim and I are saving $$ and living like college students while we get ourselves on our feet. This means eating hummus and chips, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And lots and lots of Coke Zero.

My dream to stay a pseudo-college student forever is finally coming true.

Celebrity Sightings! And the Celtics are Amazing

What a fucking NIGHT! First of all, the Celtics came back from the biggest point deficit in history to kick the fucking shit out of the Lakers! We were lucky enough to be drinking at Cabo Cantino in West Hollywood for a few reasons:

1. We were on the fucking Sunset Strip
2. They have 2-for-1 drinks from 4-8pm. That's four hours of 2 margaritas for the price of 1.
3. We actually found a pocket of Celtics fans, so we didn't get, you know, killed after the game was over.

We also drank with a very special celebrity friend, but before we get to that, let me tell you that we ran into the end of the AFI Awards, and were lucky enough to see three very famous faces before I started freezing alive:

The Hot Piece of Ass better known as Robert Downey Jr:

Chevy Chase, who apparently now is like... 90?

And everyone's favorite Tony "Mister Monk*" Shalhoub.

*I fucking hate that the new assistant (who I also happen to fucking hate) calls him "Mister Monk." Fuck you, chipper blond, I want Sharona back!

Celebrity Tally (including special celebrity friend):
Jim: 10
Chelsea: 6

As for our special celebrity friend, we spent last night drinking with - drumroll! - Jamie Kennedy! Who was very comfortable, apparently, in a pair of UGG slippers. Shoe-choice aside, he was very nice and very friendly. And I just barely resisted the urge to squeal about Scream.



Wait a sec, we need a full-sized picture of this gem:



Much better. Jim was ecstatic, and at the end of the night couldn't resist admitting that he, "loved THE EXPERIENCE." Well guess what, Jim - so do I. So do all of us.

Santa Monica Pier Pictures

Oops, forgot about these! Although the first is from the Fox Sky Bar at the Vegas airport, because we had to drink at 10am. We were in Vegas.

And yes, that last one is the Google HQ, because it was spiffy and it's supposed to be the best place on earth to work. Also, we're geeks.

Celebrity Sightings! (and Scream Queens)

It's that time again! Our newest additions are:

Jim:

Billy Dee "Lando!" Williams

Me:

...Rachel Dratch!

Which brings our current tally to:

Jim: 6
Chelsea: 2

And I would like to point out that my two sightings are Jon Lovitz and Rachel Dratch. I spotted Ms. Dratch (Mrs?) on Sunset today, while I was on my way to (DRUMROLL) auditions for VH1/Liongate's SCREAM QUEEN! A reality horror contest show... thing in which 10ish or so hopeful ladies battle it out for the lead in a new Lionsgate horror movie. Um, if that's not my calling in life, then I just don't know what is.

Anyway, I spotted today's celebrity wandering down the street, and realized that she's approximately 3'5" if she stops stooping. It was weird.

Okay, enough of that, let's get back to the real important issue at hand here: me. The audition went very well, I think, and consisted of:

- Filling out a 10 page application that made my wrist attempt to cut itself off from my arm and flee to safety
- Chatting about said application on camera to a delightfully nice casting man (casting man? shows you how experienced i am) and having the joy of bringing up the fact that I "rule with an iron fist" and that I'm afraid of ovens, and wouldn't it be horrifying if zombie clown spiders dragged me into one? Seriously.
- Acting out a delightful monologue about vampire-creatures and people jumping into rivers
- Screaming on command

Now, not many of you know this (as how often does this come up in conversation?) but until this point, I have been entirely unable to scream on command. In fact, when we were in the 7th grade and decided to make our own horror movie (yeah, that never actually worked out) we rehearsed my "scenes" with someone literally screaming for me. A primitive sort of dubbing, if you will. But today, the gods smiled down upon me, and even though I warned the guy he might get some kind of guttural, emphysema-esque bellow (think: Lindsay Lohan unable to find booze) I opened my mouth and... a delightful, blood-curdling scream miraculously came out. Go me!

I'll take it as a sign. Not that I'm expecting anything, but how freaking cool would it be to compete on VH1 for something other than the horror that is Flava Flav? I wonder if they'd deliberately scare the contestants - now that'd be bad ass. Or maybe they just leave us to fend for ourselves in a giant room full of agents, snobby has-beens, and other dredges of LA society. Now that would be horrifying.

Roommate Love

Jim: "You're like nicotine for my genitals."

Celeb Sightings!

Living in Los Angeles can only mean one thing: Celebrity Sightings! Unless you're me, in which it means Celebrity Sighting, singular. And not even a cool celebrity at that. Jim, on the other hand, is practically swimming in fabulous celebrities, and for that I am very bitter, and contemplating getting a job at Best Buy.

Here's our tally so far:

Jim

Ben "Ryan Atwood" McKenzie (aka someone I want to sleep with)

Emmy "Bad Movie Choices but Adorable Girl" Rossum

Kat Von D

lmfao "The Miz" from Real World, Road Rules, and WWE Fame

and then there's:

Me:

Jon Lovitz. Oh.

And technically, Jim saw Jon Lovitz too. And by "technically" I mean he spotted him driving, while we were on our way to Santa Monica, so "technically" he's the one that's actually done all the celeb spotting. And, by the way, Jon Lovitz cannot drive. In fact, he should probably have his license taken away, which hopefully will induce rage, and cause him to attack Andy Dick and end that monstrosity once and for all.

Short and Sweet

So today I went to two casting calls, wandered around West Hollywood, went to the Starbucks on Beverly and North Robertson that I always see in US Weekly and People and such, and realized that really, my life is pretty much fabulous.

Jim, however, trumps all, seeing as he sold merchandise to Emmy Rossum, and may have finagled us a potential apartment from a guy who works for CBS.

Why didn't we move out here earlier?

Also, I will post another entry with all of the lovely pictures of our Santa Monica adventure later, when I have the time and brain power. Right now we're going to watch Walk Hard and eat dark fudge brownies, so obviously I have more important things to waste my time on.

A Love Letter

Dear Prince Caspian Ben Barnes,

I hear you're looking for a normal girl to fill that special place in your heart; well, look no further! I may not be "normal" in some conventional ways, but I am "normal" in the sense that I am not in showbiz (yet) and I do not have the paparazzi hounding me, and no matter how many temper tantrums I throw, I do not have an entourage waiting on me hand-and-foot.

So voila! I am your dream girl, and seeing as how I have developed an unhealthy crush on you merely from taking a look at your pictures (hello, scruffy hair and leather jacket!) I believe we are meant to be. I know, I know, you're rushing off to London to go home, but really, come back to LA; I'm here, and we're soulmates, and clearly that is the sanest, most logical course of action. After all, Katie Holmes nursed a crush on Tom Cruise for nearly a decade, and look how happy they are now!

XOXO,
Chelsea


PS: If I ever actually meet Ben Barnes, he's never allowed to look at this blog, because then I go from charmingly quirky to downright psychotic, and that never helped someone's dating prospects, OK?

Bienvenue Los Angeles

It's official - we've moved to Los Angeles!

Before I begin, please pardon any glaring mistakes that I may make, in regards to grammar or spelling or basic mental processes, because I've barely slept in the past 48 hours and it's beginning to catch up with me. Good? Good!

So we're here! Our flight left at 7:00am, so we decided to leave super early just to be safe (especially with all the new regulations and hoops to jump through with the airlines, and USAir in particular, seeing as that was what we were flying) so we left at 4:00am, got breakfast, and then made it to the airport around 5:00am. Needless to say, neither Jim nor myself slept, so by the time we actually sat down at the gate, we were bordering on delirious.

We decided to just sleep on the plane, seeing as we had 5.5 hours until our layover in Vegas, so after takeoff and after I attempted breaking Jim's hand in my "omfg we're taking off" panic, it was sleep time! Sort of. It's difficult to really get a good solid nap in on a plane, between the turbulence, the 150 or so other people strewn about the cabin, and the fact that you're packed like sardines in the seats.

We made it to Vegas (after seeing the Grand Canyon and the Rocky Mountains, which are just as damn impressive as you'd imagine them to be) and promptly headed to the Fox Sky Lounge, for a beer and an Amaretto Sour, because c'mon, we were exhausted, sleep deprived, and in Vegas - clearly the only option there is to get a drink. 2 or so hours later, we boarded our connecting flight, left the gate, and promptly taxied back to the gate because the airline had overbooked the plane, and some psychotic woman with an infant clinging to her was refusing to give up her seat, and the stewardesses had to boot other people off the plane to accommodate them. I don't know, I was so confused and so tired by that point that I kept falling asleep and missing important chunks of information.

After another attempt at napping, we landed at LAX! MJ picked us up, reunion bliss was had, and we were carted off to Silver Lake to enjoy a home cooked meal, and then a 2 mile stroll around the Reservoir. All-in-all, even with the horrors of 2 takeoffs in the same 12 hour period, it was an amazing day. California is beautiful, and while I still haven't entirely wrapped my mind around the fact that I'm here permanently, it already just feels... right.

Tomorrow we're going down to the Santa Monica Pier to ride on the new ferris wheel, and then play tourist and go sightseeing and tweak out over any celebrities we may find, even D-Listers like Jaleel White, who, whether or not he knows it yet, it on our list of New Best Friends.

PSA:

Days till LA: TOMORROW


fyi.