I’ve noticed it’s pretty hard for some people to digest the news when they hear their favorite celebrity (singer, rapper, author, actor, doesn’t matter) is gay.
They get all defensive and upset and angry like their house was just foreclosed on or something else important just happened to them personally. Reality must not actually play a part in their lives. In my book, there are bigger things to think about, to focus on for more than a minute, to talk about when I finally have the luxury of an adult conversation.
At lunch the other day, a friend of mine caused me to spit out my Arnold Palmer because she outed a celebrity mid-conversation. One who I seriously had no thought could possibly be gay. Doesn’t matter to me what he does in bed but now I think he is a REALLY good actor. And if he really is gay, I get why he hasn’t come out. Maybe he will proclaim it on the cover of PEOPLE or say it like Ellen did in a show years from now but I know Hollywood… and I know people in general. They aren’t exactly very nice. Once his image is changed… so would his career.
Anyway, I laughed at my unexpected reaction and told her about someone else in Hollywood. Using my trusted second hand knowledge of course. I think she was particularly hurt. Like deceived. As if her brother in law was cheating on her sister with the girl at the coffee shop or something. And no I won’t share who it was. Because I don’t get all Perez Hilton on people.
That exchange made me wonder. When we aren’t friends with someone we only see on the big screen or between the covers of a supermarket weekly and we certainly can’t relate to someone living in a $20 million dollar home with a vacation home with the same price tag in a warm climate, why doesn’t it even matter? Why do we care? And why have so many people put celebrities into their hearts right next to their kids and real life friends?
And then I realized there are two people, I’d think differently of when I listened to their music if they said they were gay. I’d be shocked they could do a persona so much of a stretch from their songs. I swear if anyone ever has that kinda knowledge about either of the singers in the clips below, NEVER tell me. Ever. I don’t want to spoil my little fantasy :) (See, I absolutely know I don’t know either of them and what I’ve built about them could be far from reality.)
I would be crushed … I like them like a fat kid loves cake
Denis Leary woke me up this morning not the downpour of rain on my window. It was his gosh darned trailer and crew for his FX channel drama and dark comedy, Rescue Me. (Um.. what did you think I was talking about? The man is married, people!!!!)
Outside my window with their loud generators, vans, walkie-talkies and potty mouth talk – my window! No really. I open the curtain and boom there’s the door to one of the many trailers on both sides of my street. (Remind me in my next life to get an apartment not facing the street.)
Last time I saw Denis Leary and his crew they were filming outside of the church that was used for the Sex and the City wedding shoot for Charlotte. (But in the Sex and the City instance, Kristen Davis was outside her trailer in her rollers, chatting on her cell phone and not one potty mouth comment was heard.)
That first day I saw Denis in his cream suit and cell phone attached to his ear throwing around expletives the way my son throws pieces of meat filled ravioli off the table of his high chair. And from that day forward he’s been known as Potty Mouth Denis Leary to me.
Speaking of my son, Lukie, he just woke up. He was standing on my window sill looking out at the noisemakers. Knocking on the window. “Lukie, want a SAG card?” “Lukie go outside and tell them you want to be an extra on their filthy FX drama.” “Lukie tell them you want to be a baby super star with your little corkscrew hairdo.” His response? To just knock on the window and get excited that the rain was coming down.
*sigh* I’ll never be a showbiz mom. There go my dreams for early retirement.
Natalie wants my bed to be big enough so she can sleep in it (and Lukie too) and watch tv with me on it. The only problem is the fact that after I started my initial search a few months ago for the perfect new Sealy mattress set, I came across pages and pages of complaints about four different stores (one of which really surprised me considering it’s a reputable department store) which not only bring the mattress to your house but they also bring bedbugs. So I postponed my new bed search in fear of accidentally bringing bedbugs into the apartment.
Seems like bed bugs have become the new rat of Manhattan. And they are just all over the place. Yuck. News reports have people throwing out their furniture, management companies refusing to help them so they move out their apartment, and even a woman who left the state because of them! Double Yuck.
Now even SNL mama Maya Rudolph has been bothered by bedbugs. Her $13,500 a month SoHo apartment where she lived with her husband and daughter is infested with them. Makes me wonder what the odds of someone living in a $3,000 a month apartment in Manhattan are for not getting bedbugs.
It’s even gotten to be a running joke on Craigslist where posters write open letters to their bed bug roommates. But seriously doesn’t it just seem to be too much to have to go through such lengths that you are throwing out your furniture. You finally find a couch you like and now you have to toss it?
I just can’t sleep on this bed anymore. I’ve had it forever. It’s time for a change already. Hopefully in a few weeks when I get a chance to go shopping, it’ll be a change for the better.
Maya Rudolph - BedBugs Story
