Last week, I packed my ego and my suitcase and headed off to Salt Lake City to audition for America's favorite "talent" contest, American Idol.

Like the rest of the crazed artists who dream of nothing but lights, camera and action (or for me, MONEY, MONEY and MONEY -- just kidding it's all about the art, right?), I took the chance at the 15 minutes we all feel entitled to.

Deep, deep, deep inside, I actually thought I had a shot ... But the reality went a little something like this:

Getting my Idol on!

Continue reading "Freaks, geeks and tiny hosts: How I survived an American Idol audition"

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I weep for the plight of celebrities.

Spoiled, filthy rich and removed from the real world, the poor dears have quite the burden to bear.

I especially feel for the truly talent-less among them ... D-listers like Ali Lohan (Lindsay's lil sis) who still somehow manage to earn a fruitful living doing whatever it is they do (besides capitalizing off their famous relatives, of course).

Continue reading "Anderson Cooper's D-List diss on Ali Lohan"

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Ok. So I have to admit it: I'm a virgin. Not a virgin in that sense, since I'm currently 16 weeks pregnant, but I'm a virgin at writing a blog. So bear with me.

Being pregnant, to be honest with you, has been quite easy so far, just as long as my husband remembers the cardinal rule of spousal pregnancy: Thou shalt not steal thine wife's food.

There was a regrettably hysterical moment a week or so ago when I came home to discover the spring roll that I had been coveting all morning while sitting at my office had been swiped from my refrigerator by a man who doesn't really even like spring rolls.

I screamed, "Who would steal food from a pregnant woman?"

Apparently that guy I married does. Said husband has learned from his mistake, and will henceforth take care to let food-mongering, hormone-crazed beasts lie.

But as you may be aware, Hollywood is popping out kids faster than the mercury is rising -- hello 105 degrees! And they're selling their baby photos for mad cash.

Continue reading "Oh, baby! Celebs use their wombs as ATMs"

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Living in Los Angeles means a lot of things -- 50-year-old tranny hookers, brunch at 2:30 p.m. on a Tuesday, eating dinner next to Topher Grace and liking it.

It now also includes 5.4 magnitude earthquakes.

That's right -- I lost my earthquake virginity yesterday morning at about 11:30 a.m.

Continue reading "Anna's first earthquake leaves her shaken, not stirred"

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Lately I've been flirting with various baby names in preparation for my first-born (who likely won't be coming along for another 10 years), and I've become quite attached to "Table."

Not a particular table, of course, but the NAME "Table."

Then again, that may be too borgeousie. Everyone has a table, after all. Perhaps I'll name it "Bentley," or "Aston-Martin."

You can't be too exclusive when it comes to naming your child.

Then again, I'm just a nobody, and my child, who will likely also be a nobody, might actually face some taunts or bullying were they to be stuck with some bizarro name I picked out of a catalog somewhere.

But celebrities are another story. Any far-out, random, inanimate object goes when it comes to naming the little ones.

Continue reading "Hi, my name is Comical Celebuspawn Moniker"

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My first real job in LA was at a shoe store; it was thrilling.

Because it was in the luxurious retirement township of Marina Del Rey, I was lucky enough to wait on all kinds of A-List celebrities (Rosanne Barr, anyone?).

They were always very polite, always spent a lot of money, and always impressed our usual customer, the elderly Jewish lady.

One night, we were about to close when a few ladies wanted to come in and shop. I was smart (and poor), and had learned that when you let people in right before you close and don't pressure them to leave, 99% of the time they'll spend money.

Continue reading "Shoe shopping with Donda West ... Not so fun"

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Well, hello there! I'll be your Hollywood blogger, straight from K-Town (Korea Town, for those of you who don't live here ... which is probably all of you).

Because I live in the most "unique" town around, I'll be regaling you with fantastic stories about real celebrity encounters (like the time Jerry O'Connell was in my improv class ... for one night), my life working at a casting studio (All those Orbit Gum commercials? I helped), and even my own experiences striving to be a celebrity people blog about (OMG, did you see Anna coming out of Starbucks? Is it just me, or is she back on meth?).

Continue reading "Hellooooo from Hollywood"

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