The following are true stories that have happened to me since moving to Los Angeles. Things that can only happen in La La Land.
#DontTextHim....Girl Power & Taylor Swift
This is a little tale I like to call #DontTextHim....Girl Power.
My friends decided to go to this "emo night" at a bar in Silver Lake. I know, I know. When you think of emo, you automatically think of me. We go hand and hand really. That's sarcasm if you didn't pick up on that. Anyways, we get to the emo bar and there is a line all the way down the street and wraps around the corner. "Nope." I boldly state. "I don't wait in lines." *After 30 seconds of silence and receiving blank stares from my friends, I backed up my previous statement my declaring. "I don't have time for that." It didn't take long for my friends to realize that I had a point, and that we were never getting in this bar and waiting outside would be a complete waste of time. (Sometimes I actually know what I'm talking about.)
We head over next door to a bar called "Little Joy." It wasn't very crowded which was fine by me. We walk in the door and then head into a smaller room down the hall. I take one look around the small, quiet room and say "This room sucks." a little too loud. "You should say that louder Colleen" my friend says to me. I start laughing because all too often I talk before I think and don't even recognize how fracking loud I can be. This is unfortunate when you are in a small confined space, with no music playing and offend every stranger in the room...which is what happened in that moment. I smiled, waved, and slowly backed out of the room as to not cause any more awkwardness for myself, and those around me.
We leave the lame room (as I named it) and headed back to the main part of the bar. There was a festive Christmas tree so naturally we took a bunch of pictures in front of it. Because that's what we do. Everyone orders their drinks. Halfway through my drink I yell "I need water." I blink and before my eyes are 2 ice cold glasses of water. So naturally I took 15 selfies of me drinking water. 'Cuz I'm about that water lyfe. I was documenting my responsible side. My water drinking side. After my impromptu Water World photo sesh, I have to go to the bathroom. "I have to go to the bathroom" I yell at the top of my lungs. I do this because I know my friends like to know my whereabouts at all times. Okay, that's not true. I do that because I talk out loud, to myself, all the time. And in case I go missing my friends will know my last destination. I like to stay 2 steps ahead of the game. Because I'm thinker.
Anyways, I head into the bathroom. And as I'm reapplying my bright as frack red lipstick (I really just want to be like Taylor Swift when it comes down to it) my friend walks in! "Heyyyyyy!" I scream, like we haven't seen each other in a year, when realistically it had only been a few minutes. Since we are both in the bathroom, we decide the next logical thing to do would be to sit on the floor and take a bunch of pictures. THAT'S WHY GIRLS GO TO THE BATHROOM IN GROUPS. Guys always wonder why we can't go to the bathroom alone. That's why. Mystery solved. You're welcome.
We are only 2 minutes into our bathroom floor photo session when we are joined by 2 more of our friends. I am elated. "Sit down now!" my friend and I yell simultaneously. Our other 2 friends do as they are told and the photo session continues. We start snapping away, but start having difficulty because there are now 4 of us, sitting on the bathroom floor, and my arms are not long enough to get us all in the frame. Which is odd, because I actually have extremely long arms. Like what is the point of having gangly Gumby arms if you can't get 4 of your friends in one picture? These are the challenges I'm faced with on a daily basis. A new blonde girl walks into the bathroom and takes pity on us. Here, give me your phone. I will take a picture of you guys. The 4 of us damn near burst into tears at her generosity. "Thank you!" "Oh my gosh, you are so pretty!" "That's so nice of you!" are a few of the things that are spewing out of our mouths all at the same time. Pretty blonde girl takes a picture of herself first (which we all cheered her on for it) cuz she was gorgeous and had a killer outfit. Then proceeds to snap some pics of us....sitting on the bathroom floor. She takes the pics and returns my phone to me. We scroll through the phone and all at once squeal, on cue. "OMGEEEEE that's the one! It's so good!" I then have a revelation "You guys, if we were in a band, this would be our album cover. We totally nailed it." We all agreed that this in fact is true, and proceed to gush over how hot and badass we all look. We have healthy levels of self-esteem and I don't see a damn thing wrong with that. After seven and a half minutes of bathroom floor, I repeat BATHROOM FLOOR pictures, we all agree it's best to get back to our guy friends we neglected.
We start to get up and as we're walking out a group of girls walk into the bathroom. I walk past them and as we're about to exit I hear one say "Should I text him?" I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widen, I point one finger straight in the air, pivot turn on my heel, look her dead in the eyes and yell "DON'T TEXT HIM!" Keep in mind, I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am in this current moment.
They stare at me in shock. I continue on "BECAUSE HE'S AN ASSHOLE." I understand at this point I may have frightened them but they're still in the bathroom, so I continue to explain. "Listen, if you have to ask whether or not you should text a guy, the answer is no, because he's probably an asshole. Or you wouldn't be debating on whether to text him in the first place. Let me guess, he's gave you every indication that he's into you and he's said all the right things, then completely ignores you. Does that sound about right?" "YES," they all agree. They explain their current situation. I'll spare you the details, just know that my assumption was right. "But how did you know?" I'm asked. "Because I've been there. I've had one of those too, and it never works out in the end...that's why they're called assholes." I tell them. Since I'm on a roll, I decide to leave them with some words of wisdom, "Listen, at the very least, you deserve to have a guy that will fucking text you back. I deserve that. We all deserve that! Next time you start thinking about texting him just yell out '#DontTextHim' to yourself and be done with it." "Yeah you don't need 'em!" my bff Tammy joins in. Tammy is very wise (and tells me the same advice day after day.)
Later Tammy and I are discussing the bathroom incident. "You know, I don't think I've ever been to a single bar where there wasn't a girl crying over some douchebag in the bathroom. And sometimes that crying girl is me. Like the time that random girl found me crying, listening to Taylor Swift on my phone in the bathroom at El Chavo. Not my finest moment. But we totally bonded." I laugh recalling this night, as if it was yesterday.....
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One night I'm out with my friends at El Chavo but find myself feeling extra down about a situation I was in. You'd think I'd be having fun, and carefree since I was out with my friends. Wrong. I was trying to pretend I was having a great time, but I just felt really shitty and the feeling kept creeping up on me. I tell my friends I'm going to the bathroom. This is where things get slightly ridiculous, but screw it, I'm just keeping it real. Next thing I know, I've locked myself in the bathroom and I'm listening to "All You Had To Do Was Stay" by the one and only Taylor Swift on my phone, and yep, I'm crying. I'm trying to be strong, but Taylor Swift makes me emotional. It's always a bit of a gamble with her. There's a 50/50 chance I may or may not cry. No one knows. Hell, I don't always know what's gonna happen. Anyways, I am now locked in the bathroom, telling myself to be strong, but it's not working cuz I'm crying all over my phone. I allow myself to cry for 3:13, which is the length of "All You Had To Do Was Stay" then I have to stop. I can be surprisingly strict with myself when I need to be. The song ends, I stop crying, but I'm not ready to go back out to my friends. But I also feel bad because I've locked myself in the only stall there is in the bathroom and that's not fair to people who actually need to use it. So I step out of the stall, and sit on a bench in the tiny lounge area in the bathroom. I decide to push repeat and play my favorite song again. Just then a girl enters the bathroom, and on her way out comes up to the mirror to fix her makeup and starts humming to the T-Swift song that's still blaring from my phone. I look at her in amazement. "You know this song?!" I ask mesmerized (as the album had only been out for less than a week at this point.) She looks at me and says "Oh yes I do girl! Track number 5!" she smiles. "Track number 5 is my song!" I excitedly yell. Then she says, "Mine too. Track number 5....and 6, 7, and 8" She instantly gives me a high-fives and says "I feel you girl" as she walks out. 'Did that really just happen?!' I ask myself. 'Because that was amazing!'
As I'm processing the amazing incident that had just happened, 3 new girls walk in. They have come to the bathroom to map out their game plan. "So wait, he's coming here now?!" one girl asks. "Yes." the other replies. "So what do I do when he gets here?!" she asks nervously. I turn down the volume on "All You Had To Do Was Stay" and take it upon myself to join their conversation. "I'll tell you what you're gonna do. You're gonna walk out of this bathroom with your friends and act like you're having the best night of your life. And then when we shows up, you're gonna ignore him. Then after about 10 minutes of ignoring him, you're going to casually say "Oh hey!! I didn't even know you were here!" and smile and laugh with your friends, like you don't have a care in the world." Instantly the girl says, "Yes! I like her and I like her plan. That's exactly what I'm going to do!" she says. Her friends all agree that it is the best plan of action. "How did you know what I should do" she asks me. "Not my first rodeo, girl. Honestly sometimes when I'm not sure what to do I just ask myself 'What would Taylor Swift do?'" They all start laughing. Though it is kind of funny, I'm being serious. I ask myself that all the time. "Okay, so now you know what to do. Go out there and ignore him." I tell her. "And if he's anything like what I'm picturing (which he is) he'll be freaking out wondering why you're not throwing yourself all over him." I explain. "I will! Thank you!" and like that they went on their way.
I take another minute or two, turn off Taylor Swift and pull myself together. I start smiling because I'm pretty sure Taylor Swift has some magical power over all females and somehow manages to bring females together for the better. I don't know how she does it, but I've seen it. Over and over. I'm also feeling less sad about my dumb ass situation, because I've just realized I am not the only one stressing out over some dude who really doesn't give two shits about me. Every girl does it. I see it time and time again. And what helps is talking to them and realizing we're all in the same boat more often than not. So instead of turning against each other, we can actually help each other, even if we're complete strangers.
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Girls get a bad reputation for being catty and bitchy to each other for no reason at all. And believe me, sometimes that's true. But I've also found that sometimes the place you will feel most accepted is in the women's restroom and a random bar. The camaraderie between complete strangers that I've witnessed and even experienced myself, is mind blowing. It's a weirdly wonderful feeling to have a complete stranger walk into a room, look you in the eye and say "Hey, you're beautiful. And you deserve better than that." I've been on both ends of it and they're both just as satisfying.
LA is a crazy city, with a lot of crazy ass people. But if you look hard enough, you can find good, quality people. I have learned this recently. It's so easy to get caught up on why that guy isn't texting you back, or why that girl you were into is acting like a complete bitch. But instead of wasting your energy on why other people are assholes, sometimes you just have to take a step back and look at all the people who you're surrounded by who actually care about you. The ones who love you and would bend over backwards for you. The ones who you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not when you're with them. They love you regardless, because they love YOU. For who you are. I'm thankful for the people in my life (especially my girls) who have my back every damn day. The same ones who never roll their eyes when I continue to cry over the same damn thing, or person, or situation. The ones who are honest, and tell you the truth and just want you to be happy. So this one is for all muh gurls. I just hope you are able to find friends like I have. Male, female. Doesn't matter. Just surround yourself with people who have bright shining lights in a world of darkness. I have found that....and also found the ones who will have a Taylor Swift dance party with you in the bathroom. Because sometimes the best way to get over someone, or something is to shake it offffff. It's a real thing. Try it.
I now leave you with 101 ridiculous photos that were taken at Little Joy. It's a lot to take in, so brace yourself. Oh and also, my friends are better than yours.
My friends decided to go to this "emo night" at a bar in Silver Lake. I know, I know. When you think of emo, you automatically think of me. We go hand and hand really. That's sarcasm if you didn't pick up on that. Anyways, we get to the emo bar and there is a line all the way down the street and wraps around the corner. "Nope." I boldly state. "I don't wait in lines." *After 30 seconds of silence and receiving blank stares from my friends, I backed up my previous statement my declaring. "I don't have time for that." It didn't take long for my friends to realize that I had a point, and that we were never getting in this bar and waiting outside would be a complete waste of time. (Sometimes I actually know what I'm talking about.)
We head over next door to a bar called "Little Joy." It wasn't very crowded which was fine by me. We walk in the door and then head into a smaller room down the hall. I take one look around the small, quiet room and say "This room sucks." a little too loud. "You should say that louder Colleen" my friend says to me. I start laughing because all too often I talk before I think and don't even recognize how fracking loud I can be. This is unfortunate when you are in a small confined space, with no music playing and offend every stranger in the room...which is what happened in that moment. I smiled, waved, and slowly backed out of the room as to not cause any more awkwardness for myself, and those around me.
We leave the lame room (as I named it) and headed back to the main part of the bar. There was a festive Christmas tree so naturally we took a bunch of pictures in front of it. Because that's what we do. Everyone orders their drinks. Halfway through my drink I yell "I need water." I blink and before my eyes are 2 ice cold glasses of water. So naturally I took 15 selfies of me drinking water. 'Cuz I'm about that water lyfe. I was documenting my responsible side. My water drinking side. After my impromptu Water World photo sesh, I have to go to the bathroom. "I have to go to the bathroom" I yell at the top of my lungs. I do this because I know my friends like to know my whereabouts at all times. Okay, that's not true. I do that because I talk out loud, to myself, all the time. And in case I go missing my friends will know my last destination. I like to stay 2 steps ahead of the game. Because I'm thinker.
Anyways, I head into the bathroom. And as I'm reapplying my bright as frack red lipstick (I really just want to be like Taylor Swift when it comes down to it) my friend walks in! "Heyyyyyy!" I scream, like we haven't seen each other in a year, when realistically it had only been a few minutes. Since we are both in the bathroom, we decide the next logical thing to do would be to sit on the floor and take a bunch of pictures. THAT'S WHY GIRLS GO TO THE BATHROOM IN GROUPS. Guys always wonder why we can't go to the bathroom alone. That's why. Mystery solved. You're welcome.
We are only 2 minutes into our bathroom floor photo session when we are joined by 2 more of our friends. I am elated. "Sit down now!" my friend and I yell simultaneously. Our other 2 friends do as they are told and the photo session continues. We start snapping away, but start having difficulty because there are now 4 of us, sitting on the bathroom floor, and my arms are not long enough to get us all in the frame. Which is odd, because I actually have extremely long arms. Like what is the point of having gangly Gumby arms if you can't get 4 of your friends in one picture? These are the challenges I'm faced with on a daily basis. A new blonde girl walks into the bathroom and takes pity on us. Here, give me your phone. I will take a picture of you guys. The 4 of us damn near burst into tears at her generosity. "Thank you!" "Oh my gosh, you are so pretty!" "That's so nice of you!" are a few of the things that are spewing out of our mouths all at the same time. Pretty blonde girl takes a picture of herself first (which we all cheered her on for it) cuz she was gorgeous and had a killer outfit. Then proceeds to snap some pics of us....sitting on the bathroom floor. She takes the pics and returns my phone to me. We scroll through the phone and all at once squeal, on cue. "OMGEEEEE that's the one! It's so good!" I then have a revelation "You guys, if we were in a band, this would be our album cover. We totally nailed it." We all agreed that this in fact is true, and proceed to gush over how hot and badass we all look. We have healthy levels of self-esteem and I don't see a damn thing wrong with that. After seven and a half minutes of bathroom floor, I repeat BATHROOM FLOOR pictures, we all agree it's best to get back to our guy friends we neglected.
We start to get up and as we're walking out a group of girls walk into the bathroom. I walk past them and as we're about to exit I hear one say "Should I text him?" I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widen, I point one finger straight in the air, pivot turn on my heel, look her dead in the eyes and yell "DON'T TEXT HIM!" Keep in mind, I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am in this current moment.
They stare at me in shock. I continue on "BECAUSE HE'S AN ASSHOLE." I understand at this point I may have frightened them but they're still in the bathroom, so I continue to explain. "Listen, if you have to ask whether or not you should text a guy, the answer is no, because he's probably an asshole. Or you wouldn't be debating on whether to text him in the first place. Let me guess, he's gave you every indication that he's into you and he's said all the right things, then completely ignores you. Does that sound about right?" "YES," they all agree. They explain their current situation. I'll spare you the details, just know that my assumption was right. "But how did you know?" I'm asked. "Because I've been there. I've had one of those too, and it never works out in the end...that's why they're called assholes." I tell them. Since I'm on a roll, I decide to leave them with some words of wisdom, "Listen, at the very least, you deserve to have a guy that will fucking text you back. I deserve that. We all deserve that! Next time you start thinking about texting him just yell out '#DontTextHim' to yourself and be done with it." "Yeah you don't need 'em!" my bff Tammy joins in. Tammy is very wise (and tells me the same advice day after day.)
Later Tammy and I are discussing the bathroom incident. "You know, I don't think I've ever been to a single bar where there wasn't a girl crying over some douchebag in the bathroom. And sometimes that crying girl is me. Like the time that random girl found me crying, listening to Taylor Swift on my phone in the bathroom at El Chavo. Not my finest moment. But we totally bonded." I laugh recalling this night, as if it was yesterday.....
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One night I'm out with my friends at El Chavo but find myself feeling extra down about a situation I was in. You'd think I'd be having fun, and carefree since I was out with my friends. Wrong. I was trying to pretend I was having a great time, but I just felt really shitty and the feeling kept creeping up on me. I tell my friends I'm going to the bathroom. This is where things get slightly ridiculous, but screw it, I'm just keeping it real. Next thing I know, I've locked myself in the bathroom and I'm listening to "All You Had To Do Was Stay" by the one and only Taylor Swift on my phone, and yep, I'm crying. I'm trying to be strong, but Taylor Swift makes me emotional. It's always a bit of a gamble with her. There's a 50/50 chance I may or may not cry. No one knows. Hell, I don't always know what's gonna happen. Anyways, I am now locked in the bathroom, telling myself to be strong, but it's not working cuz I'm crying all over my phone. I allow myself to cry for 3:13, which is the length of "All You Had To Do Was Stay" then I have to stop. I can be surprisingly strict with myself when I need to be. The song ends, I stop crying, but I'm not ready to go back out to my friends. But I also feel bad because I've locked myself in the only stall there is in the bathroom and that's not fair to people who actually need to use it. So I step out of the stall, and sit on a bench in the tiny lounge area in the bathroom. I decide to push repeat and play my favorite song again. Just then a girl enters the bathroom, and on her way out comes up to the mirror to fix her makeup and starts humming to the T-Swift song that's still blaring from my phone. I look at her in amazement. "You know this song?!" I ask mesmerized (as the album had only been out for less than a week at this point.) She looks at me and says "Oh yes I do girl! Track number 5!" she smiles. "Track number 5 is my song!" I excitedly yell. Then she says, "Mine too. Track number 5....and 6, 7, and 8" She instantly gives me a high-fives and says "I feel you girl" as she walks out. 'Did that really just happen?!' I ask myself. 'Because that was amazing!'
As I'm processing the amazing incident that had just happened, 3 new girls walk in. They have come to the bathroom to map out their game plan. "So wait, he's coming here now?!" one girl asks. "Yes." the other replies. "So what do I do when he gets here?!" she asks nervously. I turn down the volume on "All You Had To Do Was Stay" and take it upon myself to join their conversation. "I'll tell you what you're gonna do. You're gonna walk out of this bathroom with your friends and act like you're having the best night of your life. And then when we shows up, you're gonna ignore him. Then after about 10 minutes of ignoring him, you're going to casually say "Oh hey!! I didn't even know you were here!" and smile and laugh with your friends, like you don't have a care in the world." Instantly the girl says, "Yes! I like her and I like her plan. That's exactly what I'm going to do!" she says. Her friends all agree that it is the best plan of action. "How did you know what I should do" she asks me. "Not my first rodeo, girl. Honestly sometimes when I'm not sure what to do I just ask myself 'What would Taylor Swift do?'" They all start laughing. Though it is kind of funny, I'm being serious. I ask myself that all the time. "Okay, so now you know what to do. Go out there and ignore him." I tell her. "And if he's anything like what I'm picturing (which he is) he'll be freaking out wondering why you're not throwing yourself all over him." I explain. "I will! Thank you!" and like that they went on their way.
I take another minute or two, turn off Taylor Swift and pull myself together. I start smiling because I'm pretty sure Taylor Swift has some magical power over all females and somehow manages to bring females together for the better. I don't know how she does it, but I've seen it. Over and over. I'm also feeling less sad about my dumb ass situation, because I've just realized I am not the only one stressing out over some dude who really doesn't give two shits about me. Every girl does it. I see it time and time again. And what helps is talking to them and realizing we're all in the same boat more often than not. So instead of turning against each other, we can actually help each other, even if we're complete strangers.
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Girls get a bad reputation for being catty and bitchy to each other for no reason at all. And believe me, sometimes that's true. But I've also found that sometimes the place you will feel most accepted is in the women's restroom and a random bar. The camaraderie between complete strangers that I've witnessed and even experienced myself, is mind blowing. It's a weirdly wonderful feeling to have a complete stranger walk into a room, look you in the eye and say "Hey, you're beautiful. And you deserve better than that." I've been on both ends of it and they're both just as satisfying.
LA is a crazy city, with a lot of crazy ass people. But if you look hard enough, you can find good, quality people. I have learned this recently. It's so easy to get caught up on why that guy isn't texting you back, or why that girl you were into is acting like a complete bitch. But instead of wasting your energy on why other people are assholes, sometimes you just have to take a step back and look at all the people who you're surrounded by who actually care about you. The ones who love you and would bend over backwards for you. The ones who you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not when you're with them. They love you regardless, because they love YOU. For who you are. I'm thankful for the people in my life (especially my girls) who have my back every damn day. The same ones who never roll their eyes when I continue to cry over the same damn thing, or person, or situation. The ones who are honest, and tell you the truth and just want you to be happy. So this one is for all muh gurls. I just hope you are able to find friends like I have. Male, female. Doesn't matter. Just surround yourself with people who have bright shining lights in a world of darkness. I have found that....and also found the ones who will have a Taylor Swift dance party with you in the bathroom. Because sometimes the best way to get over someone, or something is to shake it offffff. It's a real thing. Try it.
I now leave you with 101 ridiculous photos that were taken at Little Joy. It's a lot to take in, so brace yourself. Oh and also, my friends are better than yours.
Guyliner and One Direction shirts: My Night At Loaded
Let's talk about LOADED, shall we? Loaded is, well quite frankly, a place I don't belong. But that's the beauty of it. I'll get to that later Loaded is a rock bar in the heart of Hollywood. I've walked past Loaded hundreds of times while out and about in Hollywood and every time I'd stop dead in my tracks, full of fear, and say a silently vow to myself "I will never step foot in there", then take off running before I made eye contact with anyone. See here's why it scared me, because everyone who goes there dresses in all black and leather (I wear pink and own a plethora of Taylor Swift apparel), the guys there wear more make up than me (which is intimidating, because when I go out I often wear a shit ton of make up) and they have longer hair than me. Well I chopped all my hair off, but I used to have really long hair, and their hair was still longer than mine. The Loaded crowed listens to metal bands I've never even heard of and am honestly a bit too scared to repeat....I listen to One Direction, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry and of course Hanson. I am blonde....and let's just say there are a total of zero blondes in loaded. So if you add these all up, it makes for one scared blonde girl with the wardrobe of a 13 year old girl (and proud of it!)
One night my life changed, when my new bffs (and #WomenCrushAlways) Tammy and Sabrina invited me and my very cardboard boyfriend Harry Styles to hang out in Hollywood with them. I excitedly accepted and met up with them at Sabrina's place in Hollywood. Keep in mind this is the first time hanging out with them, and much like you would do on a first date, I really wanted to impress them! Friendships are a lot like dating in that way, especially in the very beginning. We're talking, going back and forth debating on where we should go that night. Finally the moment I've already dreaded was happening and there was nothing I could do to stop it. "So Colleen we're gonna go to Loaded tonight, are you cool with that?" they ask. Now if I'm being honest, the following moments that followed were a bit of a blur because I wanted nothing more than to grab cardboard Harry Styles and haul ass out of her apartment and never look back. "I'M GOING TO GET EATEN ALIVE." is all I could really think. But not wanting to blow my cover, I managed to spit out "Sure." with a smile. "This is it. This is how I'm going to die. Who's going to break it to my parents?!" is another thought that went over and over in my mind.
A fact you should probably know is that Tammy, Sabrina and I are all so different, but that's why we work. We do have a lot of similarities too. Tammy loves her metal and rock and roll but also has a soft spot and respect for people like Taylor Swift and Ke$ha (my queens) and the most important of all One Direction. That's basically what brought Tammy and I together. (But you can read my previous F.R.I.E.N.D.S. blog for that.) And Sabrina is the most fashionable, beautiful, warm hearted, funniest person you'll ever lay eyes on. I'm getting off track now, but basically Tammy and Sabrina = Life and I don't know what I'd do without them, ok?
So at this point, we're about to head out and I'm doing my very best not to cry because I don't want to go to Loaded. Tammy puts on some music to prepare us for our night out. She chooses "Story of My Life" by One Direction and all my worries instantly disappear. (That's the beauty of One Direction, for all you haters out there.) I am happy now and am able to walk out of the apartment and make my way to Loaded with a smile on my face, high on One Direction. We made one pit stop on the way. Tammy told me she bought a One Direction shirt at one of those Hollywood Souvenir shops on Hollywood Blvd. "TAKE ME THERE, NOW." I demanded. And she did. I figured if I'm gonna meet my untimely death tonight, I might as well go out in style in a One Direction shirt. Bought the most fetus One Direction shirt possible [NOTE: fetus=young or baby; for all you old people out there], which also happened to be the same exact shirt Tammy had bought a month or so prior. Shout out to the cashier who asked me if I was intoxicated when I was purchasing my beloved 1D shirt. Apparently, in his mind, the only way a 27 year old woman would actually buy such a shirt is if she was wasted. Joke was on him. I was clear headed when I bought that. So I put that One Direction shirt on and proudly strutted my stuff down Hollywood Blvd.
Before I know it, I'm face to face with my biggest fear: LOADED. Sabrina and Tammy practically drag me in with them. They are regulars at Loaded so they know everyone. Here's where things change though. They say hello to the bouncer, who is this big, tall bald dude covered from head to toe in black leather. They hug him and then say "This is our friend Colleen!" I politely extend my and to shake his, but before I know it I'm lifted off the ground and swept into his arms as he gives me a ginormous bear hug. "Nice to meet you Colleen! Welcome to Loaded!" Stunned, but pleasantly surprised I say "Nice to meet you too!" Suddenly all my fears were gone and I felt at ease and was able to enjoy myself. Sabrina and Tammy mingled and introduced me to all their friends. I even ran into one of my friends which made me a happy camper! [Shout out to Chazz for taking a picture with me in my One Direction shirt. He basically looks like my babysitter in the photo. That has nothing to do with him. It's all me. I can't help it that I have a young face, or a liking for One Direction child-sized tees.]
Suddenly Tammy stops and looks me dead in the eye and says "Colleen, there's a pole and no one is on it. I think you and your One Direction shirt need to go up there and give it a whirl." I don't even need to think about this. "Take my phone. I'm gonna need some pictures of this" and lift myself up to the pole. Now, I've got to say, there is nothing sexy about a blonde girl in her late 20s swinging around a pole, fully clothed with a One Direction shirt, she can barley squeeze into. But here's the thing: I don't care. I do what I want. I tried to make it as awkward and uncomfortable for everyone, including myself, and succeeded. I've provided pictures, because they explain it much better than I ever could. The best part about it is that no one cared! Everyone was laughing and thought it was the funniest thing. Believe me when I say, there is not a single other bar in Hollywood where you could get away with this. People would look at you like you have 3 heads. But not at Loaded. It was like acceptable behavior....IN A ONE DIRECTION SHIRT. Finding a place that allow such behavior is basically my dream come true.
A week ago I was bartending at work and was talking to a this girl. She was platinum blonde, had tattoos all over her body, piercing and was absolutely gorgeous. We're talking and she says "I'm a bartender, so I totally get what you have to deal with on a daily basis." I ask "Where do you work?" She says "At this rock bar in Hollywood called Loaded." I practically yell "You work at Loaded?! I go there all the time!" I tell her the story of my first visit there and how scared I was, and how I felt like I didn't fit in. She looks at me and says "But that's the beauty of Loaded. It's a place where all the misfits go and they're like a giant family. You don't have to fit in, and everyone will accept you. You can't find that anywhere else in Hollywood." And she was so right.
She reminded me of what I thought as we left Loaded that first night. I remember telling myself to never judge a book by its cover. You should always give something or someone a chance. Whether that's a place you would never go to, or talking to someone who you think you have nothing in common with. People will always surprise you, but you have to be open to it. And last but not least, if you're out somewhere and see a pole standing alone and have an urge to hop on it, do not fight that urge. Because if not, you might just pass up an opportunity to embarrass yourself in front of a room full of strangers....or make them laugh and actually respect you for showing up to a bar in a One Direction shirt.
One night my life changed, when my new bffs (and #WomenCrushAlways) Tammy and Sabrina invited me and my very cardboard boyfriend Harry Styles to hang out in Hollywood with them. I excitedly accepted and met up with them at Sabrina's place in Hollywood. Keep in mind this is the first time hanging out with them, and much like you would do on a first date, I really wanted to impress them! Friendships are a lot like dating in that way, especially in the very beginning. We're talking, going back and forth debating on where we should go that night. Finally the moment I've already dreaded was happening and there was nothing I could do to stop it. "So Colleen we're gonna go to Loaded tonight, are you cool with that?" they ask. Now if I'm being honest, the following moments that followed were a bit of a blur because I wanted nothing more than to grab cardboard Harry Styles and haul ass out of her apartment and never look back. "I'M GOING TO GET EATEN ALIVE." is all I could really think. But not wanting to blow my cover, I managed to spit out "Sure." with a smile. "This is it. This is how I'm going to die. Who's going to break it to my parents?!" is another thought that went over and over in my mind.
A fact you should probably know is that Tammy, Sabrina and I are all so different, but that's why we work. We do have a lot of similarities too. Tammy loves her metal and rock and roll but also has a soft spot and respect for people like Taylor Swift and Ke$ha (my queens) and the most important of all One Direction. That's basically what brought Tammy and I together. (But you can read my previous F.R.I.E.N.D.S. blog for that.) And Sabrina is the most fashionable, beautiful, warm hearted, funniest person you'll ever lay eyes on. I'm getting off track now, but basically Tammy and Sabrina = Life and I don't know what I'd do without them, ok?
So at this point, we're about to head out and I'm doing my very best not to cry because I don't want to go to Loaded. Tammy puts on some music to prepare us for our night out. She chooses "Story of My Life" by One Direction and all my worries instantly disappear. (That's the beauty of One Direction, for all you haters out there.) I am happy now and am able to walk out of the apartment and make my way to Loaded with a smile on my face, high on One Direction. We made one pit stop on the way. Tammy told me she bought a One Direction shirt at one of those Hollywood Souvenir shops on Hollywood Blvd. "TAKE ME THERE, NOW." I demanded. And she did. I figured if I'm gonna meet my untimely death tonight, I might as well go out in style in a One Direction shirt. Bought the most fetus One Direction shirt possible [NOTE: fetus=young or baby; for all you old people out there], which also happened to be the same exact shirt Tammy had bought a month or so prior. Shout out to the cashier who asked me if I was intoxicated when I was purchasing my beloved 1D shirt. Apparently, in his mind, the only way a 27 year old woman would actually buy such a shirt is if she was wasted. Joke was on him. I was clear headed when I bought that. So I put that One Direction shirt on and proudly strutted my stuff down Hollywood Blvd.
Before I know it, I'm face to face with my biggest fear: LOADED. Sabrina and Tammy practically drag me in with them. They are regulars at Loaded so they know everyone. Here's where things change though. They say hello to the bouncer, who is this big, tall bald dude covered from head to toe in black leather. They hug him and then say "This is our friend Colleen!" I politely extend my and to shake his, but before I know it I'm lifted off the ground and swept into his arms as he gives me a ginormous bear hug. "Nice to meet you Colleen! Welcome to Loaded!" Stunned, but pleasantly surprised I say "Nice to meet you too!" Suddenly all my fears were gone and I felt at ease and was able to enjoy myself. Sabrina and Tammy mingled and introduced me to all their friends. I even ran into one of my friends which made me a happy camper! [Shout out to Chazz for taking a picture with me in my One Direction shirt. He basically looks like my babysitter in the photo. That has nothing to do with him. It's all me. I can't help it that I have a young face, or a liking for One Direction child-sized tees.]
Suddenly Tammy stops and looks me dead in the eye and says "Colleen, there's a pole and no one is on it. I think you and your One Direction shirt need to go up there and give it a whirl." I don't even need to think about this. "Take my phone. I'm gonna need some pictures of this" and lift myself up to the pole. Now, I've got to say, there is nothing sexy about a blonde girl in her late 20s swinging around a pole, fully clothed with a One Direction shirt, she can barley squeeze into. But here's the thing: I don't care. I do what I want. I tried to make it as awkward and uncomfortable for everyone, including myself, and succeeded. I've provided pictures, because they explain it much better than I ever could. The best part about it is that no one cared! Everyone was laughing and thought it was the funniest thing. Believe me when I say, there is not a single other bar in Hollywood where you could get away with this. People would look at you like you have 3 heads. But not at Loaded. It was like acceptable behavior....IN A ONE DIRECTION SHIRT. Finding a place that allow such behavior is basically my dream come true.
A week ago I was bartending at work and was talking to a this girl. She was platinum blonde, had tattoos all over her body, piercing and was absolutely gorgeous. We're talking and she says "I'm a bartender, so I totally get what you have to deal with on a daily basis." I ask "Where do you work?" She says "At this rock bar in Hollywood called Loaded." I practically yell "You work at Loaded?! I go there all the time!" I tell her the story of my first visit there and how scared I was, and how I felt like I didn't fit in. She looks at me and says "But that's the beauty of Loaded. It's a place where all the misfits go and they're like a giant family. You don't have to fit in, and everyone will accept you. You can't find that anywhere else in Hollywood." And she was so right.
She reminded me of what I thought as we left Loaded that first night. I remember telling myself to never judge a book by its cover. You should always give something or someone a chance. Whether that's a place you would never go to, or talking to someone who you think you have nothing in common with. People will always surprise you, but you have to be open to it. And last but not least, if you're out somewhere and see a pole standing alone and have an urge to hop on it, do not fight that urge. Because if not, you might just pass up an opportunity to embarrass yourself in front of a room full of strangers....or make them laugh and actually respect you for showing up to a bar in a One Direction shirt.
F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
Alright you guys, it's time. I, Colleen Courtney Sullivan, am going to get serious for a minute. Ok who am I kidding? This is me we're talking about. And I spend the majority of my time thinking about Doritos, the most inappropriate place I can take a cardboard cutout to, and what ridiculous thing I can say next that will leave a stranger at a complete loss for words. Well, in my defense I don't actually think of what I can say, I don't think at all. I say whatever comes to my mind.
Just ask the poor cashier at Ralph's. Last night my best friend had the grand idea of walking to the grocery store to buy Mac & Cheese (screw you Sponge Bob macaroni), cookies and whatever our little hearts desired. I went straight for the Oreos, because I'm only human. I couldn't decide between Double Stuffed Oreos (my one true love) and the new exotic Birthday Cake Oreos. Being the reasonable person that I am I bought them both. As we we're checking out the cashier says "Oh I like Oreos. I like the regular ones the best though." To which I respond "Oh I'm all about Double Stuffed Oreos. I like to be double stuffed sometimes." The man looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights. My friend laughs (a lot), shakes her head and says "I apologize for my friend." As we're walking away I look at her and say "I like to be double stuffed? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! It just came out." Which only made her laugh even harder. But she is one of my best friends so she gets me. Which brings me to the point of this post. FRIENDS. True friends. Let me explain.
Friendship can be a funny thing because it can come as quickly as it goes. But it's still a constant in your life no matter what. Whether you're making new friendships, ending friendships, working on friendships, repairing friendships or enjoying friendships, they're always going to be there. Sometimes you can have a solid friendship for years and then find out you never really knew that person. At least not the way you thought you did. Or maybe you're one of the lucky few people who have a best friend you've known your whole life. And you know that no matter the distance, or how hectic and busy life gets at times, they're always going to be there for you. I'm thankful to be able to include myself in this group.
Then there's friendships I've found in Los Angeles. Finding friends in LA can be a tricky thing. Let me rephrase that. Finding TRUE friends in LA can be difficult. I've gone through more friendships than I can count in the 2 years that I've lived here. Some had horrid endings, others I simply fell out of touch with people for no particular reason. But each one has impacted my life in some way. It's almost strange how a single person can change your life so much. I don't regret a single experience or friendship I've had since moving here. As cheesy as it sounds, they made me who I am today. And you know what? I like who I am today. I went through a rough period of time when I didn't like myself. I didn't like who I was becoming. But by the grace of God I never completely lost myself. I've seen that a lot in this town. It's so easy to lose yourself in this city because there's so much out there: fame, money, celebrities, power, and success, just to name a few. To be clear, there's absolutely nothing wrong with any of these things. But it can become a problem when you allow yourself to get lost in it.
They say it takes at least a year for a place to really feel like home. I couldn't agree more. Which is why year 2 is when I really hit my stride. I actually know what I'm doing with my life, I have goals I'm working towards and I've met a lot of amazing people. And I've met some of my best friends, who are just like me, in the sense that they don't give a shit what people think about them. In a city that's consumed with their egos, pride, and reputation, you can imagine my urge to buy each one of my friends a miniature horse to express my happiness and thankfulness that we found each other. I'm hoping in the next 1-3 years I'll be able to afford to purchase miniature horses for each one of my friends. Pony Parties are legit. If I never make enough money to buy everyone mini horses, I'll at least buy a massive slip-n-slide, take it up to the Hollywood sign and let everyone go ape shit. Because that's what my friends deserve. Speaking of my friends, I'd like to introduce you to a some of them.
Let's talk about Charity shall we? Charity is my spirit animal. She's like a funnier, more bad ass version of me, with free styling rap skills that would make Eminem run and hide under a table like a little bitch. I love Charity for a million and one reasons. My favorite things about her is she's honest, non-judgmental and you can be yourself around her. She also calls it like she's sees it and isn't afraid to put you in your place. The other day I was being super annoying an she says "Girl, you obsess like a teenager!! Relax!!" And just like that I was snapped back to reality. I need that in my life. If it weren't for Charity, I'd be on the phone calling up Love Line asking Dr. Drew what I'm doing wrong with my life. You probably think I'm kidding. I'm not. Another amazing thing about Charity is she encourages the ridiculousness in life which is perfect, because so do I. Last night we were running around North Hollywood and she suggested I offer Oreos to pedestrians walking by. Which is very polite. And when I wanted to run through a massive cluster of bushes, crawl through it, poke my head out and smile for an impromptu photo shoot, what did she do? She grabbed my phone and started snapping away. She also made me take a gorgeous and artistic photo of her and a Bird of Paradise. It was beyond moving. If all that doesn't convince you, check her out in the newest episode of "My Date With Harry: Girls Night In." She slays it. SLAYS. I was on the floor in tears the first time I watched her scenes. Homegurl is bloody brilliant. Oh yeah I forgot to tell you, I'm British now so I say things like "bloody." Deal with it.
Then there's my ultimate #WCA Tammy. By the way, #WCA stands for Woman Crush Always, because Tammy is always my crush, not just on Wednesdays. To make a long story short, Tammy and I couldn't be more opposite. But we have one thing in common. We share a love for a very underage Harry Styles, and One Direction as a whole. She made a joke about having a three-some with me and cardboard Harry, I accepted and I knew right then and there that this was the beginning of a beautiful new friendship. When I first started this whole weird Harry Styles cardboard cutout thing, Tammy was the first to embrace it. Even though everyone else though it was weird as, how should I put this? Oh I know, weird as fuck. No one really understood it but Tammy was all about it. When I started bringing cardboard Harry out in public Tammy was always there helping me think of ways to take it one step further. I like that about her. In fact, one time I was not in the mood to walk around with cardboard Harry so I folded him up and tucked him under my arm. Tammy noticed and was not pleased. She stopped dead in her tracks on Hollywood Blvd and said "WHY IS HE FOLDED UP COLLEEN?!?!" I didn't have an answer for her so I quickly unfolded him, Tammy smiled and we continued our journey down the blvd. She's just Tammy and everyone loves her for that. I have never in my life seen someone who can walk into a crowded room and instantly become friends with everyone. Even girls. A week or so ago we were out and we walked into this bar and something felt off. She took a look around and says "The female vibe is harsh in here tonight." And she was right. I was thinking about peacing out because I felt slightly uncomfortable but Tammy wasn't having it. The next thing I know Tammy is laughing and talking with every female in the place. Even the ones that were less than receptive at the beginning. I just stood there with my jaw on the floor in awe of her. It's like she has magical powers or something. I think she gets it from the Beyonce portrait that's hanging in her living room.
What is El Lay without Breanne? Nothing, that's what. Breanne is my Hanson-loving, truth speaking, dancing, partner in crime. She makes me laugh so damn hard. She makes everyone laugh. She just has a way with words. I think it's the way she delivers. She has a low tolerance for bullshit (much like myself) so it's rare to get anything past her. Probably my favorite memory I have with Breanne is the time we started to do extra work for TV shows and movies. We were both broke and thought it would be fun to do together. We had no idea what we were in for. On this special day we were working on a TV show in Hollywood and we're sitting in a room with about 40 other people and it's dead silent. Emphasis on silent. All of the sudden we hear something. We notice this woman sitting next to us is singing, no-no, not singing, RAPPING. This woman decided it was a good time to whip out her phone and start recording an original rap song she wrote. But wait, it gets better. She proceeds to loudly "rap" into her phone about how she's going to "cut these bitches and hoes" and how "these bitches and ho's can't hold me back." Breanne and I look at each other in utter disbelief. Breanne leans over and whispers "These are the kind of people who blow up buildings." Neither of us knows how to appropriately react to this kind of situation so we both just start laughing. Hard. But silently. Have you ever tried to silently hysterically laugh? It's not easy. At one point Breanne started crying because she was laughing so hard which in turn made me cry. The worst part about this entire situation is that no one else in the entire room even noticed this woman rapping at an incredibly loud volume. And then this woman lost her shoes. I mean it was just a disaster. One thing after another. But it is to this very day my favorite memory with Breanne. And I know for a fact this is Breanne's favorite memory as well. The day we met CHOSEN.
In closing I'd like to state one final fact: My friends are better than yours. Just kidding. Kind of. But honestly, I feel fortunate to have friends that I know have my back. At the end of the day I know if I ever needed anything I could call them and they'd be there in a heartbeat. Not a lot of people can say that. And that takes away the pain, anger, and frustration of any friendship or relationship that is no longer in your life. It makes that girl who was mean to you, that friend who never defended you, or that guy who spread rumors about you incredibly insignificant. I'll tell you one thing, I certainly do not miss the days and sleepless nights I wasted wondering "Why didn't they stick up for me? How could they say that about me?" And I smile knowing I won't have to endure that again. Because it took a while, but I finally found the right kinds of friends. Friends who buckle a cardboard cutout into the back seat of their Mustang and take it for a drive down Ventura Blvd. Friends that encourage you to be you. Friends who you demand you open your sun roof and turn on "Story of My Life" so they can proudly wave the Germany flag out the window in honor of the World Cup. Friends that will put on a Hanson t-shirt circa 1997 and wear it out to a bar with you. I assume at this time next year we'll be reflecting back on year 3. Hopefully year 3 will involve: questionable tattoos, the formation of a rapping girl group, someone may or may not be bailed out of jail, something involving a dolphin in a bathtub, and I will finally get the "Mariah Don't Carey" tie dye jacket that I only dream about.
Just ask the poor cashier at Ralph's. Last night my best friend had the grand idea of walking to the grocery store to buy Mac & Cheese (screw you Sponge Bob macaroni), cookies and whatever our little hearts desired. I went straight for the Oreos, because I'm only human. I couldn't decide between Double Stuffed Oreos (my one true love) and the new exotic Birthday Cake Oreos. Being the reasonable person that I am I bought them both. As we we're checking out the cashier says "Oh I like Oreos. I like the regular ones the best though." To which I respond "Oh I'm all about Double Stuffed Oreos. I like to be double stuffed sometimes." The man looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights. My friend laughs (a lot), shakes her head and says "I apologize for my friend." As we're walking away I look at her and say "I like to be double stuffed? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! It just came out." Which only made her laugh even harder. But she is one of my best friends so she gets me. Which brings me to the point of this post. FRIENDS. True friends. Let me explain.
Friendship can be a funny thing because it can come as quickly as it goes. But it's still a constant in your life no matter what. Whether you're making new friendships, ending friendships, working on friendships, repairing friendships or enjoying friendships, they're always going to be there. Sometimes you can have a solid friendship for years and then find out you never really knew that person. At least not the way you thought you did. Or maybe you're one of the lucky few people who have a best friend you've known your whole life. And you know that no matter the distance, or how hectic and busy life gets at times, they're always going to be there for you. I'm thankful to be able to include myself in this group.
Then there's friendships I've found in Los Angeles. Finding friends in LA can be a tricky thing. Let me rephrase that. Finding TRUE friends in LA can be difficult. I've gone through more friendships than I can count in the 2 years that I've lived here. Some had horrid endings, others I simply fell out of touch with people for no particular reason. But each one has impacted my life in some way. It's almost strange how a single person can change your life so much. I don't regret a single experience or friendship I've had since moving here. As cheesy as it sounds, they made me who I am today. And you know what? I like who I am today. I went through a rough period of time when I didn't like myself. I didn't like who I was becoming. But by the grace of God I never completely lost myself. I've seen that a lot in this town. It's so easy to lose yourself in this city because there's so much out there: fame, money, celebrities, power, and success, just to name a few. To be clear, there's absolutely nothing wrong with any of these things. But it can become a problem when you allow yourself to get lost in it.
They say it takes at least a year for a place to really feel like home. I couldn't agree more. Which is why year 2 is when I really hit my stride. I actually know what I'm doing with my life, I have goals I'm working towards and I've met a lot of amazing people. And I've met some of my best friends, who are just like me, in the sense that they don't give a shit what people think about them. In a city that's consumed with their egos, pride, and reputation, you can imagine my urge to buy each one of my friends a miniature horse to express my happiness and thankfulness that we found each other. I'm hoping in the next 1-3 years I'll be able to afford to purchase miniature horses for each one of my friends. Pony Parties are legit. If I never make enough money to buy everyone mini horses, I'll at least buy a massive slip-n-slide, take it up to the Hollywood sign and let everyone go ape shit. Because that's what my friends deserve. Speaking of my friends, I'd like to introduce you to a some of them.
Let's talk about Charity shall we? Charity is my spirit animal. She's like a funnier, more bad ass version of me, with free styling rap skills that would make Eminem run and hide under a table like a little bitch. I love Charity for a million and one reasons. My favorite things about her is she's honest, non-judgmental and you can be yourself around her. She also calls it like she's sees it and isn't afraid to put you in your place. The other day I was being super annoying an she says "Girl, you obsess like a teenager!! Relax!!" And just like that I was snapped back to reality. I need that in my life. If it weren't for Charity, I'd be on the phone calling up Love Line asking Dr. Drew what I'm doing wrong with my life. You probably think I'm kidding. I'm not. Another amazing thing about Charity is she encourages the ridiculousness in life which is perfect, because so do I. Last night we were running around North Hollywood and she suggested I offer Oreos to pedestrians walking by. Which is very polite. And when I wanted to run through a massive cluster of bushes, crawl through it, poke my head out and smile for an impromptu photo shoot, what did she do? She grabbed my phone and started snapping away. She also made me take a gorgeous and artistic photo of her and a Bird of Paradise. It was beyond moving. If all that doesn't convince you, check her out in the newest episode of "My Date With Harry: Girls Night In." She slays it. SLAYS. I was on the floor in tears the first time I watched her scenes. Homegurl is bloody brilliant. Oh yeah I forgot to tell you, I'm British now so I say things like "bloody." Deal with it.
Then there's my ultimate #WCA Tammy. By the way, #WCA stands for Woman Crush Always, because Tammy is always my crush, not just on Wednesdays. To make a long story short, Tammy and I couldn't be more opposite. But we have one thing in common. We share a love for a very underage Harry Styles, and One Direction as a whole. She made a joke about having a three-some with me and cardboard Harry, I accepted and I knew right then and there that this was the beginning of a beautiful new friendship. When I first started this whole weird Harry Styles cardboard cutout thing, Tammy was the first to embrace it. Even though everyone else though it was weird as, how should I put this? Oh I know, weird as fuck. No one really understood it but Tammy was all about it. When I started bringing cardboard Harry out in public Tammy was always there helping me think of ways to take it one step further. I like that about her. In fact, one time I was not in the mood to walk around with cardboard Harry so I folded him up and tucked him under my arm. Tammy noticed and was not pleased. She stopped dead in her tracks on Hollywood Blvd and said "WHY IS HE FOLDED UP COLLEEN?!?!" I didn't have an answer for her so I quickly unfolded him, Tammy smiled and we continued our journey down the blvd. She's just Tammy and everyone loves her for that. I have never in my life seen someone who can walk into a crowded room and instantly become friends with everyone. Even girls. A week or so ago we were out and we walked into this bar and something felt off. She took a look around and says "The female vibe is harsh in here tonight." And she was right. I was thinking about peacing out because I felt slightly uncomfortable but Tammy wasn't having it. The next thing I know Tammy is laughing and talking with every female in the place. Even the ones that were less than receptive at the beginning. I just stood there with my jaw on the floor in awe of her. It's like she has magical powers or something. I think she gets it from the Beyonce portrait that's hanging in her living room.
What is El Lay without Breanne? Nothing, that's what. Breanne is my Hanson-loving, truth speaking, dancing, partner in crime. She makes me laugh so damn hard. She makes everyone laugh. She just has a way with words. I think it's the way she delivers. She has a low tolerance for bullshit (much like myself) so it's rare to get anything past her. Probably my favorite memory I have with Breanne is the time we started to do extra work for TV shows and movies. We were both broke and thought it would be fun to do together. We had no idea what we were in for. On this special day we were working on a TV show in Hollywood and we're sitting in a room with about 40 other people and it's dead silent. Emphasis on silent. All of the sudden we hear something. We notice this woman sitting next to us is singing, no-no, not singing, RAPPING. This woman decided it was a good time to whip out her phone and start recording an original rap song she wrote. But wait, it gets better. She proceeds to loudly "rap" into her phone about how she's going to "cut these bitches and hoes" and how "these bitches and ho's can't hold me back." Breanne and I look at each other in utter disbelief. Breanne leans over and whispers "These are the kind of people who blow up buildings." Neither of us knows how to appropriately react to this kind of situation so we both just start laughing. Hard. But silently. Have you ever tried to silently hysterically laugh? It's not easy. At one point Breanne started crying because she was laughing so hard which in turn made me cry. The worst part about this entire situation is that no one else in the entire room even noticed this woman rapping at an incredibly loud volume. And then this woman lost her shoes. I mean it was just a disaster. One thing after another. But it is to this very day my favorite memory with Breanne. And I know for a fact this is Breanne's favorite memory as well. The day we met CHOSEN.
In closing I'd like to state one final fact: My friends are better than yours. Just kidding. Kind of. But honestly, I feel fortunate to have friends that I know have my back. At the end of the day I know if I ever needed anything I could call them and they'd be there in a heartbeat. Not a lot of people can say that. And that takes away the pain, anger, and frustration of any friendship or relationship that is no longer in your life. It makes that girl who was mean to you, that friend who never defended you, or that guy who spread rumors about you incredibly insignificant. I'll tell you one thing, I certainly do not miss the days and sleepless nights I wasted wondering "Why didn't they stick up for me? How could they say that about me?" And I smile knowing I won't have to endure that again. Because it took a while, but I finally found the right kinds of friends. Friends who buckle a cardboard cutout into the back seat of their Mustang and take it for a drive down Ventura Blvd. Friends that encourage you to be you. Friends who you demand you open your sun roof and turn on "Story of My Life" so they can proudly wave the Germany flag out the window in honor of the World Cup. Friends that will put on a Hanson t-shirt circa 1997 and wear it out to a bar with you. I assume at this time next year we'll be reflecting back on year 3. Hopefully year 3 will involve: questionable tattoos, the formation of a rapping girl group, someone may or may not be bailed out of jail, something involving a dolphin in a bathtub, and I will finally get the "Mariah Don't Carey" tie dye jacket that I only dream about.
the weirdest night of my life : puppets, Canadians & David Arquette
Here is a small glimpse into the weirdest night of my life. My friend would rather I not plaster her face all over the internet (which I totally understand and respect) so I came up with the next best option and photoshopped some of the One Direction boys over her using this stupid app my friend told me about.
It's been a while since I had a really weird night out. I mean, I've been out and stuff, but sometimes it's just a normal night, other times it's a shit show. That's LA for you. Unpredictable. My friend and I decided to go out and had planned on a fun, but low key night at The Federal Bar in North Hollywood. We figured we would dance and have a nice little GNO (that stands for gurls night out, if you're completely clueless.) We showed up at The Federal pretty early...too early. Apparently there's no one there at 10pm on a Friday night. Which is annoying, because like, what else are you doing on a Friday night? It's the weekend. Live a little people. Anyways, it was dead and the only people who were there were kind of old (which generally doesn't happen) but I kind of like it not so crowded. It gives me a huge dance floor all to myself to allow me to dance like a loser and embarrass myself in front of, well, no one really. It's a win-win situation if you ask me. But my friend wasn't having it, and I have to admit, as much as I enjoy a somewhat empty room, she did have a point. It was kind of lame so we decided to leave. It was only 10:30pm by that point and the night was still young.
We decided to stop by this club in Hollywood called OHM becasue I had a friend who was already there and he had invited us to stop by. Let me back up a minute. I convinced my friend to stop by Johnny Rockets before we went to OHM so I could eat my body weight in french fries and chicken strips. A decision I do not regret to this day. The inside of OHM is actually quite cool, but it's on the 3rd level of the Hollywood & Highland mall, which is....weird. I mean a club, in a mall? It's all kinds of awkward. We arrive to find the same thing, it was empty. "Where the hell are all the people?!?! It's Friday night for crying out loud!" I scream in my friends ear. "Coachella. That's where" she says. "Damn you Coachella!" I curse out loud. We make our way through the small crowd, only be surrounded by 2 random guys dressed in ridiculous outfits. One went behind me and the other behind my friend and tried to dance with us. Just as they were attempting to grind on us, I looked at them and said, "I don't think so" and they walked away. I look to my friend and said "Well we just got grinded on by 2 Lil' Wayne wannabes." Do you see what we have to deal with when we go out in public? We take some obnoxious blonde girl pictures and decide to leave because it was now 11:30pm and the place was clearly not happening that night.
"Let's go to Bootsy Bellows!" I exclaim. I had heard really great things about that place and it's very "in" right now. Whatever that means. Bootsy Bellows is owned by David Arquette. I know I found it weird at first too, but I mean, what the hell else has he done lately? Nothing. We make our way to West Hollywood and show up in front of a pitch black building with a velvet rope, 2 bouncers in suits, and absolutely no line. "Ugh this is not a good sign" my friend groans. The intimidating men look at our ID's and let us in. We enter into yet another pitch black room, with 4 different doors. "WHICH ONE DO WE CHOOSE?!" I yell at my friend in a panic. If you know me at all, you will know that I can't always make decisions under pressure. I have commitment issues, but only when it's dumb ass things that don't matter. Like picking an Instagram filter. I will literally sit there for 20 minutes and weigh the pros and cons of each filter. "Well this one highlights my cheekbones, but this one makes my hair look light and shiny, and this one makes my eye makeup look amazing." I know, it's absurd. But apparently when it comes to life altering decisions, I can make those in a heartbeat. Pack up and move to LA, without a plan? Sure! Why not? I'm ass backwards sometimes. My friend tells me to calm down and steps up to the plate making an executive decision. "This one" she says bravely.
We walk through the door into a small (much smaller than I had expected) but packed room, with gorgeous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, white leather booths lining the wall, and some kind of purple strobe light flashing and people going crazy on the dance floor. We were pleased with this as everywhere else we had been previously, was dead.
We weren't in there more than 30 seconds when this guy, excuse me, extremely short, 4 foot-tall, guy grabs my arm. I look at him, he stands on his tippy toes to reach my ear and says "Would you girls like to come hang out with us at our table? This is kind of embarrassing, but all of our friends are at Coachella and our table is empty." "Sure" I respond for the both of us. Here's the thing, I stopped listening after he said "table" because that table means bottle service, and bottle service means free drinks. Before you start judging me, don't act like you would (or do) turn down free drinks when someone offers them to you. That shit is expensive, and NO ONE actually enjoys paying for them. And considering the fact that I had just spent my entire life savings at Johnny Rockets an hour earlier, I was in no position to deny his friendly offer.
He guides us 10 feet to his table. He looks at me and says, "And this is my friend David. He owns this place." I look up to see David Arquette standing in front of me and I am in complete shock and horror, but not for the reason you're thinking. I'm sure you're thinking I was excited or star struck or whatever to see David 2 feet in front of me. WRONG. Yes he is right in front of me, but as I look up, I am horrified to see he is wearing a tracksuit. He is decked out, head to toe, in a navy blue tracksuit with white stripes down the side...in a club....on a Friday night. I have to be honest with you, I was offended by his choice in clothing. I don't care that he owns the damn place. Tracksuits are never the answer. I can't think of a single situation where it is appropriate to wear a tracksuit. I wish David would have had a little more respect for me and my fellow club patrons, as we are humans, with eyes. It was just wrong.
I managed to pull myself together and tear my eyes away from the dreaded suit. We sit down with the guy and he introduces us to the rest of his friends. I, of course, am stuck with the short guy, while the tall, hot, mysterious tattooed guy instantly gravitates towards my gorgeous friend. "Story of my life" I say to myself. After throwing myself a 4 second pity party I tell myself to stop being a whiney bitch, enjoy this weird opportunity and to have fun. The short guy starts to talk to me, asking me what I do for a living, blah, blah, blaaaaahhhh. He tells me he's from Canada. "Go figure" I say in my head. I knew he wasn't American.
I then hear this strange noise and I look up to see Tacksuit Wearing David, standing on the couch next to me, blowing a trumpet and the crowd goes wild. My friend and I look at each other with the same "WTF?" expressions on our faces. Weird, right? Just when I think things couldn't get any weirder, I see this girl come up to our table and hand David this weird marionette and he couldn't be more pleased. David starts to dance with the marionette, with a childish grin on his face. Just as we are coming to terms with the marionette, another person walks up with that skeleton guy from Nightmare Before Christmas, and a guy brushes past me with an Oscar The Grouch puppet attached to him. Trash can and all. "What the hell? Where are we?" I ask my friend, who is just as baffled as I am. Short guy leans over to me and says, "David loves puppets." "Yeah I got that." I tell him. You know shit is weird, when I am thrown off by it. I love the weirdness in almost every situation. "The weirder the better" has always been one of my life mottos. So you know it's bad when I don't know how to react. It wasn't just the puppets. It was how they were dancing around the club, and how euphoric they made David. His level of sheer happiness was the same as how happy I'd be if Hanson, One Direction, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry all showed up at my door with an unlimited supply of Doritos and surprised me with a private concert in my apartment. I hope you now realize how terrifyingly happy these puppets made him.
After the trumpet, marionette dancing incident, the short guy whispers in my ear "Hey, do you wanna come with me to see the VIP room in the back? We can take a shot of Vodka together." "Ummm. NO." I tell him. "Why not?" he asks about my harsh answer. "Well for many reasons. First of all, I don't take shots. Second of all, I hate Vodka. Even saying the name makes me want to puke. And lastly, why would I go to the back room with you when there is a giant bottle of Grey Goose Vodka right in front of us?" He looks at the table "Ummm, ummm..." he can't think of a legitimate reason. Let's get one thing straight: I am not an idiot. I know when a guy is trying to get a girl alone in a back room, and I hate to break it to you fellas, but that will NEVER happen. Not even in your wildest dreams. And there's no way in hell I'd go somewhere alone with a stranger. A short-ass stranger at that.
He talks some more and tells me the boring details about his job. He works in real estate, which is the last thing he should have told me. If you want to impress a girl, don't tell her you work in real estate. That is the second most boring, dreadful job out there, insurance is number 1. I would have been more inclined to talk to him if he told me he was a Space Cowboy or something, or maybe he that wrote the lyrics to my favorite song "Ghetto Superstar" anything would have worked, even if it was clearly a bold face lie. I look over at my friend who is enjoying talking to his friend when suddenly i feel like a pinch on my arm. I look back at the guy, "Did you just...." I trail off, thinking I imagined it. I turn back to my freind to whisper something and I feel a sharp pain on my arm. My reflexes kicked in and my arm goes flying and I punch this guy in the nose as I simultaneously scream "What the hell?! DID YOU JUST BITE ME?!?" He looks at me with a guilty expression. "You bit my arm. Twice." I thought I imagined it the first time, but I didn't. This little shit bit my arm. I look at him and say, "I'm not even sorry about punching you in the nose." I don't know what goes on in little Canada land, but you're in America now, and we don't just go around biting people.
In his final attempt to impress me, or to try and make me forget about the biting incident, he looks at his friend who is flirting with my friend and says, "My friend over there is in one of the biggest bands in Canada." My eyes pop out of my head. " OH MY GOSH, SUM 41 IS HERE?!?!" I frantically search the room. He looks at me blankly, not amused, and says "No. They're called Under Webster." I tell him, "Listen dude, I have never heard of them. Webster? I don't even know what that means. I don't know if you're talking about a spider, or a Swiffer, or a dictionary. All I know is that Sum 41 was the shit back in my day, and don't try and argue that with me." He finally comes to the realization that he is not going to impress me and gets up and walks way. "THANK GOD!" I throw my hands up in the air and sigh in relief.
It is in that moment that I am very aware that I am all alone. I lost my friend, the short guy went to go harass some other girl, David Arquette was nowhere to be found, probably making a fool of himself dancing in that awful tracksuit, and I'm sitting here alone, on a couch. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be more relived that Biggie Biter left me alone finally. But no one wants to be "that person," you know, the one who sits alone while everyone else is having the time of their life. I decide the best thing to do in this situation would be to check my phone and pray to God that someone texted me. Anyone. I don't care if it was my mom, my Grandma, I don't even care if Samberg (my dog) learned how to use a phone with his paw and sent me a selfie. I will literally take anything. I take a moment to collect my thoughts. "Alright God, hear me out" I silently pray. "When I reach into my purse and grab my phone, please let there be a text from someone. I don't care who. Just let there be a text." I thank him, take a deep breath and pull out my phone. "TEXT MESSAGE! YES!" I say out loud, not caring how ridiculous I sounded. I will let you in on a little secret: If you are texting 100 words per minute, it shows that you're important. It says "Oh hey look at me. I have so many friends, that even though I am in this club full of people, I don't even have time to have fun. You guys are dancing, doing your thing, but I have so many messages I have to respond to. They're from my friends and they wanna know what I did today and how my night is going. They wanna know things because I'm so popular and I'm just trying to be a good friend. So I'm just gonna sit here, mind my own business and look really busy and important, while you are doing God knows what on the dance floor and Arm Biting Bobby is giving everyone rabies." And that, my friends, looks better than sitting alone, or getting bit by a petite foreigner. Even if you are just texting your mom, they don't know your life.
I continue my texting party and when I look back up and everyone has made their way back to the table. Sir Bites-A-Lot looks at me and rolls his eyes because I'd rather text then talk to him. Gee, I wonder why? How rude of me. By this time I am completely over this place. It's late, I'm tired, and I'm starting to think I may need to swing by the emergency room on the way home to have my arm checked out and make sure it doesn't have to be amputated. I stand by the bar while my friend goes to the bathroom so we can get da hell outta there. As I'm waiting for her this guy standing next to me starts to make small talk with me. "So, why aren't you at Coachella?" he asks. "Because I listen to One Direction and Ke$ha." I reply flatly. He laughed. I'm still unsure if he thought I was joking, but I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life. My friend joins me and we leave the club, completely exhausted. "This was the weirdest night of my life. And I've experienced some weird shit in my day" I tell her. She laughs and agrees. We talk about a few things that happened that night, mostly trumpet blowing, tracksuit clad, marionette dancing David. We laugh even harder because saying everything out loud made us realize how absolutely ridiculous it sounded. You would think we were making it all up, but it was so odd that you know it's true. It's a weird, weird, Hollywood world I tell you.
The following day my friend and I were texting back and forth recalling the ridiculous events that happened the night before. "How did we end up going from North Hollywood to Hollywood, to West Hollywood all in one night?!" To which she responded with "Stamina."
We decided to stop by this club in Hollywood called OHM becasue I had a friend who was already there and he had invited us to stop by. Let me back up a minute. I convinced my friend to stop by Johnny Rockets before we went to OHM so I could eat my body weight in french fries and chicken strips. A decision I do not regret to this day. The inside of OHM is actually quite cool, but it's on the 3rd level of the Hollywood & Highland mall, which is....weird. I mean a club, in a mall? It's all kinds of awkward. We arrive to find the same thing, it was empty. "Where the hell are all the people?!?! It's Friday night for crying out loud!" I scream in my friends ear. "Coachella. That's where" she says. "Damn you Coachella!" I curse out loud. We make our way through the small crowd, only be surrounded by 2 random guys dressed in ridiculous outfits. One went behind me and the other behind my friend and tried to dance with us. Just as they were attempting to grind on us, I looked at them and said, "I don't think so" and they walked away. I look to my friend and said "Well we just got grinded on by 2 Lil' Wayne wannabes." Do you see what we have to deal with when we go out in public? We take some obnoxious blonde girl pictures and decide to leave because it was now 11:30pm and the place was clearly not happening that night.
"Let's go to Bootsy Bellows!" I exclaim. I had heard really great things about that place and it's very "in" right now. Whatever that means. Bootsy Bellows is owned by David Arquette. I know I found it weird at first too, but I mean, what the hell else has he done lately? Nothing. We make our way to West Hollywood and show up in front of a pitch black building with a velvet rope, 2 bouncers in suits, and absolutely no line. "Ugh this is not a good sign" my friend groans. The intimidating men look at our ID's and let us in. We enter into yet another pitch black room, with 4 different doors. "WHICH ONE DO WE CHOOSE?!" I yell at my friend in a panic. If you know me at all, you will know that I can't always make decisions under pressure. I have commitment issues, but only when it's dumb ass things that don't matter. Like picking an Instagram filter. I will literally sit there for 20 minutes and weigh the pros and cons of each filter. "Well this one highlights my cheekbones, but this one makes my hair look light and shiny, and this one makes my eye makeup look amazing." I know, it's absurd. But apparently when it comes to life altering decisions, I can make those in a heartbeat. Pack up and move to LA, without a plan? Sure! Why not? I'm ass backwards sometimes. My friend tells me to calm down and steps up to the plate making an executive decision. "This one" she says bravely.
We walk through the door into a small (much smaller than I had expected) but packed room, with gorgeous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, white leather booths lining the wall, and some kind of purple strobe light flashing and people going crazy on the dance floor. We were pleased with this as everywhere else we had been previously, was dead.
We weren't in there more than 30 seconds when this guy, excuse me, extremely short, 4 foot-tall, guy grabs my arm. I look at him, he stands on his tippy toes to reach my ear and says "Would you girls like to come hang out with us at our table? This is kind of embarrassing, but all of our friends are at Coachella and our table is empty." "Sure" I respond for the both of us. Here's the thing, I stopped listening after he said "table" because that table means bottle service, and bottle service means free drinks. Before you start judging me, don't act like you would (or do) turn down free drinks when someone offers them to you. That shit is expensive, and NO ONE actually enjoys paying for them. And considering the fact that I had just spent my entire life savings at Johnny Rockets an hour earlier, I was in no position to deny his friendly offer.
He guides us 10 feet to his table. He looks at me and says, "And this is my friend David. He owns this place." I look up to see David Arquette standing in front of me and I am in complete shock and horror, but not for the reason you're thinking. I'm sure you're thinking I was excited or star struck or whatever to see David 2 feet in front of me. WRONG. Yes he is right in front of me, but as I look up, I am horrified to see he is wearing a tracksuit. He is decked out, head to toe, in a navy blue tracksuit with white stripes down the side...in a club....on a Friday night. I have to be honest with you, I was offended by his choice in clothing. I don't care that he owns the damn place. Tracksuits are never the answer. I can't think of a single situation where it is appropriate to wear a tracksuit. I wish David would have had a little more respect for me and my fellow club patrons, as we are humans, with eyes. It was just wrong.
I managed to pull myself together and tear my eyes away from the dreaded suit. We sit down with the guy and he introduces us to the rest of his friends. I, of course, am stuck with the short guy, while the tall, hot, mysterious tattooed guy instantly gravitates towards my gorgeous friend. "Story of my life" I say to myself. After throwing myself a 4 second pity party I tell myself to stop being a whiney bitch, enjoy this weird opportunity and to have fun. The short guy starts to talk to me, asking me what I do for a living, blah, blah, blaaaaahhhh. He tells me he's from Canada. "Go figure" I say in my head. I knew he wasn't American.
I then hear this strange noise and I look up to see Tacksuit Wearing David, standing on the couch next to me, blowing a trumpet and the crowd goes wild. My friend and I look at each other with the same "WTF?" expressions on our faces. Weird, right? Just when I think things couldn't get any weirder, I see this girl come up to our table and hand David this weird marionette and he couldn't be more pleased. David starts to dance with the marionette, with a childish grin on his face. Just as we are coming to terms with the marionette, another person walks up with that skeleton guy from Nightmare Before Christmas, and a guy brushes past me with an Oscar The Grouch puppet attached to him. Trash can and all. "What the hell? Where are we?" I ask my friend, who is just as baffled as I am. Short guy leans over to me and says, "David loves puppets." "Yeah I got that." I tell him. You know shit is weird, when I am thrown off by it. I love the weirdness in almost every situation. "The weirder the better" has always been one of my life mottos. So you know it's bad when I don't know how to react. It wasn't just the puppets. It was how they were dancing around the club, and how euphoric they made David. His level of sheer happiness was the same as how happy I'd be if Hanson, One Direction, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry all showed up at my door with an unlimited supply of Doritos and surprised me with a private concert in my apartment. I hope you now realize how terrifyingly happy these puppets made him.
After the trumpet, marionette dancing incident, the short guy whispers in my ear "Hey, do you wanna come with me to see the VIP room in the back? We can take a shot of Vodka together." "Ummm. NO." I tell him. "Why not?" he asks about my harsh answer. "Well for many reasons. First of all, I don't take shots. Second of all, I hate Vodka. Even saying the name makes me want to puke. And lastly, why would I go to the back room with you when there is a giant bottle of Grey Goose Vodka right in front of us?" He looks at the table "Ummm, ummm..." he can't think of a legitimate reason. Let's get one thing straight: I am not an idiot. I know when a guy is trying to get a girl alone in a back room, and I hate to break it to you fellas, but that will NEVER happen. Not even in your wildest dreams. And there's no way in hell I'd go somewhere alone with a stranger. A short-ass stranger at that.
He talks some more and tells me the boring details about his job. He works in real estate, which is the last thing he should have told me. If you want to impress a girl, don't tell her you work in real estate. That is the second most boring, dreadful job out there, insurance is number 1. I would have been more inclined to talk to him if he told me he was a Space Cowboy or something, or maybe he that wrote the lyrics to my favorite song "Ghetto Superstar" anything would have worked, even if it was clearly a bold face lie. I look over at my friend who is enjoying talking to his friend when suddenly i feel like a pinch on my arm. I look back at the guy, "Did you just...." I trail off, thinking I imagined it. I turn back to my freind to whisper something and I feel a sharp pain on my arm. My reflexes kicked in and my arm goes flying and I punch this guy in the nose as I simultaneously scream "What the hell?! DID YOU JUST BITE ME?!?" He looks at me with a guilty expression. "You bit my arm. Twice." I thought I imagined it the first time, but I didn't. This little shit bit my arm. I look at him and say, "I'm not even sorry about punching you in the nose." I don't know what goes on in little Canada land, but you're in America now, and we don't just go around biting people.
In his final attempt to impress me, or to try and make me forget about the biting incident, he looks at his friend who is flirting with my friend and says, "My friend over there is in one of the biggest bands in Canada." My eyes pop out of my head. " OH MY GOSH, SUM 41 IS HERE?!?!" I frantically search the room. He looks at me blankly, not amused, and says "No. They're called Under Webster." I tell him, "Listen dude, I have never heard of them. Webster? I don't even know what that means. I don't know if you're talking about a spider, or a Swiffer, or a dictionary. All I know is that Sum 41 was the shit back in my day, and don't try and argue that with me." He finally comes to the realization that he is not going to impress me and gets up and walks way. "THANK GOD!" I throw my hands up in the air and sigh in relief.
It is in that moment that I am very aware that I am all alone. I lost my friend, the short guy went to go harass some other girl, David Arquette was nowhere to be found, probably making a fool of himself dancing in that awful tracksuit, and I'm sitting here alone, on a couch. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be more relived that Biggie Biter left me alone finally. But no one wants to be "that person," you know, the one who sits alone while everyone else is having the time of their life. I decide the best thing to do in this situation would be to check my phone and pray to God that someone texted me. Anyone. I don't care if it was my mom, my Grandma, I don't even care if Samberg (my dog) learned how to use a phone with his paw and sent me a selfie. I will literally take anything. I take a moment to collect my thoughts. "Alright God, hear me out" I silently pray. "When I reach into my purse and grab my phone, please let there be a text from someone. I don't care who. Just let there be a text." I thank him, take a deep breath and pull out my phone. "TEXT MESSAGE! YES!" I say out loud, not caring how ridiculous I sounded. I will let you in on a little secret: If you are texting 100 words per minute, it shows that you're important. It says "Oh hey look at me. I have so many friends, that even though I am in this club full of people, I don't even have time to have fun. You guys are dancing, doing your thing, but I have so many messages I have to respond to. They're from my friends and they wanna know what I did today and how my night is going. They wanna know things because I'm so popular and I'm just trying to be a good friend. So I'm just gonna sit here, mind my own business and look really busy and important, while you are doing God knows what on the dance floor and Arm Biting Bobby is giving everyone rabies." And that, my friends, looks better than sitting alone, or getting bit by a petite foreigner. Even if you are just texting your mom, they don't know your life.
I continue my texting party and when I look back up and everyone has made their way back to the table. Sir Bites-A-Lot looks at me and rolls his eyes because I'd rather text then talk to him. Gee, I wonder why? How rude of me. By this time I am completely over this place. It's late, I'm tired, and I'm starting to think I may need to swing by the emergency room on the way home to have my arm checked out and make sure it doesn't have to be amputated. I stand by the bar while my friend goes to the bathroom so we can get da hell outta there. As I'm waiting for her this guy standing next to me starts to make small talk with me. "So, why aren't you at Coachella?" he asks. "Because I listen to One Direction and Ke$ha." I reply flatly. He laughed. I'm still unsure if he thought I was joking, but I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life. My friend joins me and we leave the club, completely exhausted. "This was the weirdest night of my life. And I've experienced some weird shit in my day" I tell her. She laughs and agrees. We talk about a few things that happened that night, mostly trumpet blowing, tracksuit clad, marionette dancing David. We laugh even harder because saying everything out loud made us realize how absolutely ridiculous it sounded. You would think we were making it all up, but it was so odd that you know it's true. It's a weird, weird, Hollywood world I tell you.
The following day my friend and I were texting back and forth recalling the ridiculous events that happened the night before. "How did we end up going from North Hollywood to Hollywood, to West Hollywood all in one night?!" To which she responded with "Stamina."
The 3 H's: Ham, Hipsters and Harvard & Stone
Let's take a moment to reflect on the fact that 21 years later, he looks EXACTLY the same.
I've heard a lot of positive things about Harvard & Stone lately so I'd been wanting to check it out for a while. I heard that it was a bit "hipster" but people say that about half the places in LA so I figured it was just like any other somewhat trendy bar in Hollywood. I was absolutely not prepared for what I would find when I walked into H&S. My blonde bestie and I were dying to go out and do something fun because we had spent the last 2 weeks doing, well absolutely nothing. Hey, sometimes you just want to sit on your couch and watch two Will Smith movies in a row, while you cuddle your dog and bawl your eyes out. (If you watched "I Am Legend" and did not cry when he had to kill his dog Sam, the only companion he had left in the entire world, then you are dead inside. AND if that incredible bond he and his son had in "The Pursuit of Happyness didn't make you choke up, then you have serious problems. No one likes an ice queen - or king.) As we walked through the doors I was first overwhelmed by the smell. My eyes bugged out of my head and I immediately looked at my friend and said, "This place smells like hipsters." I should clarify - I don't actually know what a hipster smells like, because I never come into contact with them - but if I had to guess what hipsters smell like, it would be this. It smelled kind of rusty. Not like vintage, it smelled old and rusty. Which is unfortunate for them, but I don't think they mind very much. Once you get past the overwhelming scent, it gets a lot better, I promise.
It's kind of hard to describe the interior of Harvard & Stone. But I can say, it's pretty neat. I know, I know, your imagination is swirling about with the all possibilities that are "neat." I'm so helpful sometimes. It almost looks like a vintage warehouse. There are 2 floors and about 5 or 6 different rooms. The decor is odd because it literally looks like they picked up lamps and couches that were left on the side of the street with a "FREE" sign on them. But they totally made it work for them. It's hipster grungy and it works. I don't know how these hipsters do it.
Speaking of hipsters, I just have to ask: How did that even happen?!?! Like when did hipsters become a thing, let alone a trendy thing? I feel like all the art majors who are total outcasts and have no people or social skills got together and were like "My fellow bohemians, we have gathered here today, in this dimly lit abandoned art studio, where Van Gogh painted Starry Night and subsequently cut off his ear *takes a moment of silence, in honor, and stares at the wall splattered with Van Gogh's blood* for one reason: RESPECT. We are tired of being looked at as vagabonds who wander through life looking for inspiration. From now on we shall be recognized as the leaders of the new generation. We will show the world how interesting and mysterious we truly are. No longer will we be looked down upon for wearing beanies, over-sized hats, skinny jeans, and glasses with no lenses in them. That's right. We will make wearing only the frames desirable. But we must continue to stay a recluse group, socializing with only each other, and others like us. Soon we will be internationally recognized by one word: HIPSTERS." Whew. I'm really sorry, but I've been dying to get that out in the open. I just don't understand hipsters and never will. But I feel so much better about it now. Okay, back to Harvard & Stone....
If you're not a fan of current music, or even hearing the same 5 songs in every club, lounge or bar, then you'll be pleased with Harvard & Stone. They play old school music. Songs from the 60s and shit. But it's fun to dance to and people really get down. I saw one guy dancing and the only way I can describe it is he danced exactly how I would imagine Harry Potter would dance if he had a few too many Butterbeers and really started to let loose. Glasses and Gryffindor polo shirt included. There is also a DJ every night at H&S. The DJ on the night we went was none other than Mr. Hyde himself. I'm talking about "That 70s Show" Hyde. I used to watch that show regularly, so it's just kind of cool to see someone like that right in front of you. Not in like a "OH MY GOD HYDE I LOVE YOU LET ME LICK YOUR FACE" kind of way. It's a little bit surreal to see him right in front of you. We didn't bother him or take a picture with him, because we really didn't care that much. The weird thing about LA is that "celebrities" or people who are well known, really don't get hassled at all. I mean, someone might ask them for a quick picture or something, but that's pretty much it. You might think that they'd have people following or stalking them, but that's not the case. I think it's because they are everywhere so it's not as exciting when it does happen. I also think a lot of people are afraid of looking uncool if they ask for a picture and that's just social suicide. Instead they tend to mingle around them, hoping to get a chance to talk with them for 3 minutes. When they do talk to them, they act like they just met the Queen of England or are best friends with President Obama and you should be very jealous of them. Because they are just so damn cool. These are the kind of people I want to hit in the face. Stop acting like you're the shit, ok? In reality you look like a lame, wannabe. Now me, on the other hand. If something happens to me, I don't give a rats ass if I look like a loser. If I'm excited, I'm telling everyone. When I met Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale at my work, I spent the rest of the night running around freaking out like I've just been selected to play Plinko on The Price Is Right....and won. Sometimes I even cry. I see nothing wrong with having emotions and expressing them. I'd rather be a human than a Hollywood robot.
We went to the bar and each ordered a Long Island. We decided since the drink prices were pretty steep, we better make it count. We're not made of money you know. I almost had a mini heart attack when the bartender brought us our drinks and said "That will be 48 dollars." I looked at my friend and said "I know we did not each order a drink that is $24. He can take that shit back, I am not paying for that." The music is super loud at H&S so I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly. I looked at the bartender and said "$48?" He said, "No, $28." I was still hyperventilating a bit from the $48 incident and said "$28 each?!" He leaned in closer and said, "No. $28 total, $14 each." I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at my friend, who was also uneasy about the situation and told her it was $14 each, which is slightly annoying for a stupid drink. I was elated I didn't order a $24 drink so we paid the man and left. As we left this cute blonde guy asked my friend "What is that?" and pointed to her drink. She leaned in and said "It's a Long Island." He said "Did you just whisper at me?" We laughed and walked away. Oh and it turns out that cute blonde guy is the same guy who played the oldest brother on Malcolm In The Middle. When texting a friend later, she informed me that he and Hyde are brothers in real life. I can't remember their real names. Hang on...Danny and Chris Masterson. God Bless Google. Moving on.
We walked around and laughed the at the fact that the place was crawling with hipsters. I had never been there so I decided to play it safe with my outfit, wearing a black sheer tank top, skinny jeans and boots. My friend also wore all black. We did not plan this, I swear. (When we were walking in she said "I hope people don't look at us weird, because we're matching." I reassured her, "Don't worry. We'll just tell them we came straight from a funeral." "Yeah, we're just blowing off some steam throwing 'em back" she said. That's our story and we're sticking to it. Who said blondes aren't smart.) I was just happy we didn't stick out like 2 blonde Barbie's. Of course the hipsters took it to the extreme with their outfits, which we made fun of the entire night. I fucking live for that shit. After realizing there was no escaping the hipsters, my friend says with a mischievous look on her face "Let's find the most hipster person in this bar and take a picture with him!" "OH HELL YES!" I exclaimed excitedly. You can see why we are such good friends. We scoured all the rooms until we found "the one." Neither of us had to say a thing. We just knew. He was the epitome of a hipster. He may have even been the founder. A guy standing nearby started talking to us and we told him our game, and how we had just found the winner. He laughed and said, "I'll go get him." He brings Mr. Hipster over to us. "I like your hat!" I blurt out, because I didn't want him to feel awkward, but I'm pretty sure I just made the situation worse. I tend to do that. I can't help it, I'm Gilly. (Note: My friend told me I remind her of Gilly from SNL. They way I dance, move and often act. After fighting it, I have come to terms with it, because she's right. I had a Gilly moment earlier that night when I took a sip of my Long Island and damn near choked and spit it out because it's was so potent. If you know Gilly, imagine her taking a sip of tequila for the first time, then imagine what her face would look like and I give you my face.) Anyways, we took our picture with King Hipster, thanked him and ran away. We later went back to the bar and were debating on what to order. Then I felt a strong presence to the right of me. I look and see a group of guys. My friend leans over and says "These nerds are prying hard." I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard. She was right. They were closing in. Then they attached themselves to us, without asking permission. Not physically, but they may as well have. They kindly bought us a drink then we noticed we all noticed this guy directly across the bar from us. One of the nerds, I mean guys said, "You guys, that's the kid from The Sandlot!" "I KNEW IT!" I screamed. I had saw this chubby, redheaded kid earlier and knew I'd seen him in a couple movies but couldn't for the life of me figure out which one. Which is embarrassing because "The Sandlot" was one of my favorite movies as a child. I own it on DVD to this day. Amateur move Colleen. "We are totally getting a picture with him! Let's go!" I grab my friend and we walk towards him. One of the guys followed and offered to take our picture. "Perfect" I thought. "We don't have to do anything. We will stand here, the guy will ask the red headed kid if we can take a picture with him. We don't have to do shit. I like this." And that is exactly what happened. The redheaded kid AKA "Ham" or "Hamilton" in the movie, said he'd take a picture with us. He walked over to us, we took our picture, said thank you then ran away. "Why was he wearing a backpack?" I asked my friend. We came up empty handed with reasons why anyone would bring or wear a backpack to a bar. It's probably some weird actor thing.
We talked to the nerd-my bad, the guys- some more. Then one of them asks me, "So do you guys want to go to Jumbo's with us?" "Jumbo's Clown Room?!" I yelled. "Yeah! We're heading over there, you should come with us." I sternly told him "Jumbo's Clown Room is the worst. It is the lowest of all the strip clubs. I once witnessed a larger Gothic girl do unmentionable things to her glove, with a ball gag in her mouth, all the while not taking her eyes off my friend. It was incredibly uncomfortable. That was the first and the last time I will ever step foot in Jumbo's Clown Room." Even after this reasonable explanation, this guy did not understand why 2 normal girls didn't want to go to a dirty strip club. [I feel the need to say the first (and only time) I went to Jumbo's was with 3 of my best friends for a girls night out. I was extremely curious - don't act like you wouldn't want to find out what the hell goes on in a place called JUMBO'S CLOWN ROOM. Curiosity definitely killed this cat.] To all the guys of the world: If you're trying to impress girls or a girl, do not invite them to a grungy, dirty-ass strip club. I would be more inclined to hang out with someone again if they invited me to McDonald's. Fries are the way to my heart. I can tell you that I will indeed be going back to Harvard & Stone. It's the kind of place great stories are made of. In closing, I'd like to share with you a few things I learned that night: 1) I will never go into a single bar from now on, without playing "Who's the most hipster of them all?" My life is forever changed. 2) If you see someone you feel the urge to take a picture with them, in my case Ham, do it. Don't worry about what da hipsters think about you. 3) Never ever accept an invitation from a stranger to Jumbo's Clown Room. You know what, just never go to Jumbo's Clown Room.
It's kind of hard to describe the interior of Harvard & Stone. But I can say, it's pretty neat. I know, I know, your imagination is swirling about with the all possibilities that are "neat." I'm so helpful sometimes. It almost looks like a vintage warehouse. There are 2 floors and about 5 or 6 different rooms. The decor is odd because it literally looks like they picked up lamps and couches that were left on the side of the street with a "FREE" sign on them. But they totally made it work for them. It's hipster grungy and it works. I don't know how these hipsters do it.
Speaking of hipsters, I just have to ask: How did that even happen?!?! Like when did hipsters become a thing, let alone a trendy thing? I feel like all the art majors who are total outcasts and have no people or social skills got together and were like "My fellow bohemians, we have gathered here today, in this dimly lit abandoned art studio, where Van Gogh painted Starry Night and subsequently cut off his ear *takes a moment of silence, in honor, and stares at the wall splattered with Van Gogh's blood* for one reason: RESPECT. We are tired of being looked at as vagabonds who wander through life looking for inspiration. From now on we shall be recognized as the leaders of the new generation. We will show the world how interesting and mysterious we truly are. No longer will we be looked down upon for wearing beanies, over-sized hats, skinny jeans, and glasses with no lenses in them. That's right. We will make wearing only the frames desirable. But we must continue to stay a recluse group, socializing with only each other, and others like us. Soon we will be internationally recognized by one word: HIPSTERS." Whew. I'm really sorry, but I've been dying to get that out in the open. I just don't understand hipsters and never will. But I feel so much better about it now. Okay, back to Harvard & Stone....
If you're not a fan of current music, or even hearing the same 5 songs in every club, lounge or bar, then you'll be pleased with Harvard & Stone. They play old school music. Songs from the 60s and shit. But it's fun to dance to and people really get down. I saw one guy dancing and the only way I can describe it is he danced exactly how I would imagine Harry Potter would dance if he had a few too many Butterbeers and really started to let loose. Glasses and Gryffindor polo shirt included. There is also a DJ every night at H&S. The DJ on the night we went was none other than Mr. Hyde himself. I'm talking about "That 70s Show" Hyde. I used to watch that show regularly, so it's just kind of cool to see someone like that right in front of you. Not in like a "OH MY GOD HYDE I LOVE YOU LET ME LICK YOUR FACE" kind of way. It's a little bit surreal to see him right in front of you. We didn't bother him or take a picture with him, because we really didn't care that much. The weird thing about LA is that "celebrities" or people who are well known, really don't get hassled at all. I mean, someone might ask them for a quick picture or something, but that's pretty much it. You might think that they'd have people following or stalking them, but that's not the case. I think it's because they are everywhere so it's not as exciting when it does happen. I also think a lot of people are afraid of looking uncool if they ask for a picture and that's just social suicide. Instead they tend to mingle around them, hoping to get a chance to talk with them for 3 minutes. When they do talk to them, they act like they just met the Queen of England or are best friends with President Obama and you should be very jealous of them. Because they are just so damn cool. These are the kind of people I want to hit in the face. Stop acting like you're the shit, ok? In reality you look like a lame, wannabe. Now me, on the other hand. If something happens to me, I don't give a rats ass if I look like a loser. If I'm excited, I'm telling everyone. When I met Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale at my work, I spent the rest of the night running around freaking out like I've just been selected to play Plinko on The Price Is Right....and won. Sometimes I even cry. I see nothing wrong with having emotions and expressing them. I'd rather be a human than a Hollywood robot.
We went to the bar and each ordered a Long Island. We decided since the drink prices were pretty steep, we better make it count. We're not made of money you know. I almost had a mini heart attack when the bartender brought us our drinks and said "That will be 48 dollars." I looked at my friend and said "I know we did not each order a drink that is $24. He can take that shit back, I am not paying for that." The music is super loud at H&S so I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly. I looked at the bartender and said "$48?" He said, "No, $28." I was still hyperventilating a bit from the $48 incident and said "$28 each?!" He leaned in closer and said, "No. $28 total, $14 each." I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at my friend, who was also uneasy about the situation and told her it was $14 each, which is slightly annoying for a stupid drink. I was elated I didn't order a $24 drink so we paid the man and left. As we left this cute blonde guy asked my friend "What is that?" and pointed to her drink. She leaned in and said "It's a Long Island." He said "Did you just whisper at me?" We laughed and walked away. Oh and it turns out that cute blonde guy is the same guy who played the oldest brother on Malcolm In The Middle. When texting a friend later, she informed me that he and Hyde are brothers in real life. I can't remember their real names. Hang on...Danny and Chris Masterson. God Bless Google. Moving on.
We walked around and laughed the at the fact that the place was crawling with hipsters. I had never been there so I decided to play it safe with my outfit, wearing a black sheer tank top, skinny jeans and boots. My friend also wore all black. We did not plan this, I swear. (When we were walking in she said "I hope people don't look at us weird, because we're matching." I reassured her, "Don't worry. We'll just tell them we came straight from a funeral." "Yeah, we're just blowing off some steam throwing 'em back" she said. That's our story and we're sticking to it. Who said blondes aren't smart.) I was just happy we didn't stick out like 2 blonde Barbie's. Of course the hipsters took it to the extreme with their outfits, which we made fun of the entire night. I fucking live for that shit. After realizing there was no escaping the hipsters, my friend says with a mischievous look on her face "Let's find the most hipster person in this bar and take a picture with him!" "OH HELL YES!" I exclaimed excitedly. You can see why we are such good friends. We scoured all the rooms until we found "the one." Neither of us had to say a thing. We just knew. He was the epitome of a hipster. He may have even been the founder. A guy standing nearby started talking to us and we told him our game, and how we had just found the winner. He laughed and said, "I'll go get him." He brings Mr. Hipster over to us. "I like your hat!" I blurt out, because I didn't want him to feel awkward, but I'm pretty sure I just made the situation worse. I tend to do that. I can't help it, I'm Gilly. (Note: My friend told me I remind her of Gilly from SNL. They way I dance, move and often act. After fighting it, I have come to terms with it, because she's right. I had a Gilly moment earlier that night when I took a sip of my Long Island and damn near choked and spit it out because it's was so potent. If you know Gilly, imagine her taking a sip of tequila for the first time, then imagine what her face would look like and I give you my face.) Anyways, we took our picture with King Hipster, thanked him and ran away. We later went back to the bar and were debating on what to order. Then I felt a strong presence to the right of me. I look and see a group of guys. My friend leans over and says "These nerds are prying hard." I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard. She was right. They were closing in. Then they attached themselves to us, without asking permission. Not physically, but they may as well have. They kindly bought us a drink then we noticed we all noticed this guy directly across the bar from us. One of the nerds, I mean guys said, "You guys, that's the kid from The Sandlot!" "I KNEW IT!" I screamed. I had saw this chubby, redheaded kid earlier and knew I'd seen him in a couple movies but couldn't for the life of me figure out which one. Which is embarrassing because "The Sandlot" was one of my favorite movies as a child. I own it on DVD to this day. Amateur move Colleen. "We are totally getting a picture with him! Let's go!" I grab my friend and we walk towards him. One of the guys followed and offered to take our picture. "Perfect" I thought. "We don't have to do anything. We will stand here, the guy will ask the red headed kid if we can take a picture with him. We don't have to do shit. I like this." And that is exactly what happened. The redheaded kid AKA "Ham" or "Hamilton" in the movie, said he'd take a picture with us. He walked over to us, we took our picture, said thank you then ran away. "Why was he wearing a backpack?" I asked my friend. We came up empty handed with reasons why anyone would bring or wear a backpack to a bar. It's probably some weird actor thing.
We talked to the nerd-my bad, the guys- some more. Then one of them asks me, "So do you guys want to go to Jumbo's with us?" "Jumbo's Clown Room?!" I yelled. "Yeah! We're heading over there, you should come with us." I sternly told him "Jumbo's Clown Room is the worst. It is the lowest of all the strip clubs. I once witnessed a larger Gothic girl do unmentionable things to her glove, with a ball gag in her mouth, all the while not taking her eyes off my friend. It was incredibly uncomfortable. That was the first and the last time I will ever step foot in Jumbo's Clown Room." Even after this reasonable explanation, this guy did not understand why 2 normal girls didn't want to go to a dirty strip club. [I feel the need to say the first (and only time) I went to Jumbo's was with 3 of my best friends for a girls night out. I was extremely curious - don't act like you wouldn't want to find out what the hell goes on in a place called JUMBO'S CLOWN ROOM. Curiosity definitely killed this cat.] To all the guys of the world: If you're trying to impress girls or a girl, do not invite them to a grungy, dirty-ass strip club. I would be more inclined to hang out with someone again if they invited me to McDonald's. Fries are the way to my heart. I can tell you that I will indeed be going back to Harvard & Stone. It's the kind of place great stories are made of. In closing, I'd like to share with you a few things I learned that night: 1) I will never go into a single bar from now on, without playing "Who's the most hipster of them all?" My life is forever changed. 2) If you see someone you feel the urge to take a picture with them, in my case Ham, do it. Don't worry about what da hipsters think about you. 3) Never ever accept an invitation from a stranger to Jumbo's Clown Room. You know what, just never go to Jumbo's Clown Room.
Winner of "Find the most hipster person in the bar and take a picture with him." Even his facial expression & the look in his eye is hipster.
Making the most of the opportunities I've been given...or haven't been given. crashing the music video shoot of my favorite band.
Oh hey, me.
Anyone who knows me well knows my love for Hanson. Hell, anyone who doesn't know me, knows my love for Hanson. It doesn't take more than 2 seconds to figure it out. Most people (especially members of my family, brother, cousins, aunts, uncles) all hoped and prayed that it was just a phase I was going through and that I would someday grow out of it. Boy were they wrong. Everyone has come to terms with the fact that I will love Hanson forever. It only took them 16 years, but they've finally accepted it.
Last January my friends and I got word that Hanson was going to be filming their music video for their new upcoming single in LA and they were going to cast local fans to be in the video! I must first mention that I made a list years ago of things I wanted to do in my lifetime, and be in a music video was in the top 10. And that was just any music video, I wasn't specific. So when I found out there was a chance I could be in the music video for my favorite band in the entire world I pretty much lost my shit. I knew I had to be in this video. There was no other option in my mind. The only thing is you had to submit a picture and they would cast you based off of it basically. Fan club members got first priority. I am not a fan club member (though I was in the past) because I can't afford it. And I don't need a stupid key chain or member card to prove my love and devotion to these boys. My friends and I submitted our pictures and info and anxiously waited for any kind of news, call or email. I figured it wouldn't be a problem and we'd all easily get casted because, let's face it, sadly there aren't that many Hanson fans anymore.
Anyone who is a fan of Hanson knows they boys (bless their hearts) are notorious for doing things very last minute. So it was not surprising when at 10pm the night before the music video shoot, no one had heard anything. By no one, I mean absolutely no one: none of my friends, no calls or emails. We were checking Hanson's Facebook and Twitter page every 30 seconds, and the only news we found out was that no one had heard anything. At least we were not alone. Fans were freaking out everywhere. Finally around 1am, the emails starting being received. 3 of my friends got emails saying they had been chosen and gave them all the details for the morning shoot. I couldn't sleep as I was too nervous and kept checking my email. I checked Facebook and more and more people were posting on Hanson's page saying they had been chosen. I noticed that people from all over the place like New York and Canada were saying they were cast, but couldn't make it because they only gave a few hours notice. That is why it was supposed to be for local fans only. I on the other hand, had yet to get an email. I was loosing hope. At 3am Hanson tweeted that they were finishing up the last of the casting and all the emails would be sent out within the next half hour. Still no email for Colleen. At 3:30am I cried. Yeah, I shed a tear. My dream of being in my favorite band's music video was shattered. Sue me. At 6am I awoke to a text from my friend saying she had received "the email" and she was picked to be in the music video. I was happy for her, but sad for me. And the worst thing about it was that she wasn't even a fan club member. So fan club members all got picked, because they had priority, and then they picked a lot of non fan club members and then they did not pick me. I called my mom and crying and said "They didn't pick me! I'm not pretty enough!"(Don't judge me. It was a moment of weakness after a sleepless night, my dreams were crushed so I was a little emotional.) My mom felt bad and but couldn't believe they didn't pick me and they chose every single one of my friends. She's such a good mom. My friend who did get cast told me when and where they'd be filming and told me I should just show up and see if I can somehow get in or at the very least see Hanson. Okay, I had no desire to just "see Hanson." I've seen them 50 times in my life. I wasn't interested in that. As I cried to my mom I told her it wasn't fair because not only did they choose fan club members that weren't local LA residents, the people that weren't even in America, which is bull shit because there was no way in hell they'd be able to get to Los Angeles within 6 hours. So these greedy bitches took the spots of people who actually lived in LA (ummmm, ME!). I was livid. My mom asked me how I knew this, and I told her I saw people posting it on Facebook. Suddenly the light bulb went off in my head and a Grinch-like smile creeped across my face. I can only assume you've seen the Dr. Seuss cartoon "How The Grinch Stole Christmas." You know the scene where the Grinch comes up with idea to steal Christmas and this creepy, mischievous smile slowly spreads across his face? Yeah, that's exactly what my face looked like. I told my mom about one girl in particular (who will go unnamed) I saw on Facebook. She said she received the email saying she had been cast but lived too far away and couldn't make it. She was upset because she didn't live that far away and something about having problems with her internet or email and by the time she got the email it was too late and she wouldn't be able to get to LA in time. I felt bad for her as I completely understood. "Mom, I'm going to use this girl's name, show up to set and pretend him her." My mom thought it was a brilliant idea and in that moment I truly believe she had never been more proud of the young women her daughter turned out to be. Stealing someone's name to sneak into a place she didn't belong. I was creative and thinking outside the box and she thought that was great. I then said "Thank you _______ _______" out loud, asked my mom to wish me luck and hung up. And just like that I had a name that would be on the list and didn't have to worry about this person showing up to set. Then I prayed that they wouldn't ID anyone (as it wasn't a huge production) and was on my merry way. My friend who had an early call time told me when she showed up they didn't ask for a her ID or anything like that. All they asked for was her name. Golden.
They were filming at a small venue called The Satellite in Silver Lake, which is about as hipster as it gets. I met up with my friends and filled them in on my master plan. They were all very supportive (as true friends are) and told me I had a lot of balls to bust into a place that I had no permission to be in. "I'm Colleen" I told them "I do what I want" I said matter-of-factly. See, I have always lived my life like this: You can tell me the rules, and then I will decide if I want to follow them or not. I see no use for stupid rules that are, well, stupid. As long as I am not hurting myself or others, there's really no problem with breaking rules sometimes. Just because you tell me "no" doesn't mean I'm going to say "Oh, OK you're right. I give up." Hell to the no! If you tell me no, I will just find another way to get what I want. This was one of my dreams dammit and no one was going to stand it my way. I also feel the need to tell you one small thing about me. This thing had the power to ruin my entire plan: I am a terrible liar. The absolute worst. Everyone tells me I'm very real and have an open, expressive face. Whatever emotion I'm feeling: happy, sad, angry, tired, sick, excited, etc. you can clearly see it on my face. I can't hide it. I knew I'd be tested when they asked for my name and I had to give them my name, which was not really my name. "Colleen, you can do this. It's just a name. All you have to do is say 2 words and you're in the clear. This is a music video with Hanson we're talking about. Don't be a little bitch. Get it together!" And I did. I got in line, they asked me my name and I gave it to them. They said, OK, no questions asked. The hard part was over. I was still nervous because I didn't want to get caught and thrown out. I was so close I could feel it. Then a production assistant came out to the holding area and informed us that before we could go inside to film, we would all have to get our pictures taken and sign release forms giving our permission to be on camera as the video would be seen everywhere. My heart sank into my stomach. "Release form?" I choked on the words as I said them to my friend. "Dude, I can't sign a release form with someone else's name!!! Can't you go to jail for that?!?!?" I could already picture myself getting cuffed and put into the back of a LAPD cop car. The shame. The horror. "You guys, I can't go to jail. I have to be in this music video. If they want to take me to jail after, then so be it." I should also explain that I have a tendency to jump to the worst case scenario at times. Sometimes my mind gets the best of me and I get carried away. I usually talk some sense into myself, but not until after I've thoroughly freaked myself out for no reason. My friends calmed me down and told me it would be best if I just signed my real name. They already checked us in off the initial list. There were a hundred people and there was no way they were gonna make us all check in again off the same list, or go back and match everyone's release form to their name on the list. It wasn't necessary and would be a complete waste of time. When the time came I signed my real name, took my picture and was let into the venue to film. "Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! You're the man!" I said in my head, as I didn't want to cause a scene. I made it! It was smooth sailing from here on out. For the rest of the day I could just relax, hangout with my friends and my favorite boys/band in the whole entire world.
Once my friends and I got inside the assistant director put us in our places and gave us directions on when and where to go for when we started filming. The scene was set in a bar so they needed people to be hanging out in the background, walking around and talking just like you would do if you were out at a bar with your friends. They told my friend to walk with this short girl and then told me to walk by myself. "Walking alone? Story of my life, dude." I told him. So the plan was my friend would walk across the bar talking to this girl and then 30 seconds later I would follow them...but all alone. "This is super lame" I whispered to my friend. "I'm not doing that. I don't care what they told me to do. I'm walking with you two. I'm not gonna be the only loser walking walking alone in this video." My friend laughed and agreed with my plan, she knew my whole follow rules problem and would rather hang out with me then some short strange girl anyways. We rehearsed walking to our places a couple times. I went along with what they had originally told me to do, but was going to do what I wanted and walk with my friend when they actually started filming. There were a hundred extras they had to deal with so I knew if I waited a couple minutes they wouldn't remember what they told me to do, or even notice if I did anything different. I was right. Filming started and right on cue I walked with my friend right past the camera. It was really hard to concentrate the first time because the second they started playing the music, my friend and I almost peed our pants. Here's the thing, we have loved these boys for 16 years, and no matter how many amazing experiences we have with them, it never gets old. We are always just as excited as we were the first time we saw them when we were 10 years old. The reason for the peeing of the pants this time was Hanson's new single. It had been 3 years since they last put out an album. 3 years is a very long time in Hanson years. So they started playing the new song and we damn near lost it. My friend and I stopped and looked at each other with "OH MY GOSH!" expressions on our faces. Sometimes you don't have to say anything. One look is all it takes. "THIS SONG IS AMAZING! I mean it's really good, really, really good! I'm actually surprised and impressed!" I said to her. "I can't believe it! They sound like a real band!" my friend screamed excitedly. See, we love these boys so much, it doesn't matter what they do, we'd love it. They could sing the alphabet and we'd still love them, even though we may not agree with their song choice. We joke about that a lot. But the truth is, these 3 guys are incredibly talented. People will most likely never realize it because they won't be able to get past a little song called "MMMBop". Which, for the record, is no where close to being their best song. It's a great catchy song, but it doesn't even compare to their other music. Honestly. So we were excited because this song was good. Really damn good. So good it actually had a chance to get air time on the radio, and the best part was, no one would know or even expect it to be Hanson. Which is exactly what these boys need. They need to come out with an amazing song that people will like, then once they're already hooked they'll ask "Who sings this?" and all at once we will yell "Hanson, bitches! That's right! You like a Hanson song. Now suck it!" That's exactly how I envision it.
Back to the filming part. We filmed the scene (over and over and over. And over again. If you've ever been in any type of film or production, you understand what I'm talking about). During one take, Zac Hanson (the drummer and youngest member, who is 28 years old now) came over and talked to me. [Side note: Hanson fans are insane. They are the craziest people I have ever encountered. Every once and a while you will come across a few diamonds in the rough that are actually cool and most importantly normal. Those are my friends. That's why we have to stick together, because we're all that's left. I've meet Hanson countless times, and though they don't know my name (which I thank god for, it's a good thing!) they do recognize my face. I always say, "The day they know my name, is the day I know I've gone too far." They generally know they crazy fans that have stalked them their entire lives. I don't fall into this category, believe it or not. Every time I see Hanson, I keep my distance from them. I don't get all up in their faces asking annoying questions, because it's weird, and honestly, I don't know what to say to them. And it always works in my favor. I can't tell you how many times I have been aroudn them, keeping my distance, and Zac has walked up to ME and started a conversation with ME! That's right people, it's crazy what can happen when you give people a little thing called respect. don't be a crazy bitch, and it will work in your favor. I promise.) I am standing there in my position and Zac walks over to me and asks me how I am and how everything is going. "It's going great" I said playing it cool. Inside I am freaking out, always have, always will, when he talks to me. But I have learned how to play it cool like I'm talking to my friend, even though on the inside I am hyperventilating. The director yells that they're rolling and to get in position. "Watch this," I say to Zac and then walk across the room, just as I have 20 times already. The director yells "cut!" and tells everyone to go back to their starting position. I walk back all cocky and say "Nailed it!" to Zac and he started laughing. I said it with such pride and confidence like I had just completed a 5 page monologue in front of an audience of 5,000 people without making a single mistake. In reality all I did was walk without tripping. I'm not gonna lie, that's actually a huge accomplishment for me.
After we were done filming the bar scene it was time to film the performance part of the video. This was my favorite part because we got to watch Hanson perform their new song about 10 times in a row. It was awesome! My favorite part about attending any type of Hanson event with my best friends is that we have so much fun dancing and being stupid together, that we actually forget Hanson is there. We always dance crazy like we're completely drunk, when all we've had to drink is water. We're just that cool. We payed attention to Hanson the first couple times they performed, then we were over it and stood in the very back and danced like idiots. And it worked in our favor. Throughout the video, you can see us dancing in the back having fun. We didn't even have to push our way to the front or cut a bitch to get on camera. During the final scene Kat Dennings (you know her from "2 Broke Girls" and Nikki Reed, from "Twilight" are watching Hanson in the crowd with their "dates" and they both kiss the guys. I'm standing there, minding my own business and the director goes "Ok, Kat, I want you to stand right here" and literally shoves her next to me. She bumped into my, but not in a rude way. I didn't mind at all. "You're gonna stand here, then you're going to kiss Alex (her "date") and then you're going to watch the rest of the show with each other." "Oh shit!" I say to myself. "THIS IS MY MOMENT! The camera is going to be right on me!" I devised a plane in my head of how I was going to play this, because like I said, this was my big moment. I decided to go for the swinging and flipping my blonde hair through the air type of move. That's my signature, go-to move. People always tell me I have great hair, and I really couldn't let my fans down. They start rolling, the music plays, and I begin swaying my long blonde locks back and forth. I was afraid the director was gonna be like "Hey blondie, let's take it down a notch, shall we? It's not that serious." To my surprise, no one said anything. "Nailed it again!" I thought to myself. After the shoot was over. We were sad, but so happy and grateful as we had just spent the entire day with our favorite band filming their new music video. A day we will never, ever forget. Another side note, I know I trail off topic a lot but I have ADD and I can't help it. I just have to say, Kat Dennings and Nikki Reed are the nicest people I have ever met. And they are pretty famous celebrities. I ran into them in the bathroom and they were really sweet. I didn't ask them for an autograph or a picture, cuz I'm not like that, but they made small talk with me and Nikki Reed held the door open for me when I left. I think we should acknowledge the fact that random strangers don't even do something as simple or nice as holding the door open for you, let alone a famous actress. I said "Thank you" and she said "You're welcome" really sweet. Sometmies it's the simple things in life, ya know. I already liked Nikki and Kat before I met them, but they really went up in my book after, especially Miss Nikki. It's proof that you can be famous and still be a nice person. And they are actual Hanson fans, which is why they were in the video in the first place, which makes them twice as awesome in my opinion.
The hardest part of this whole experience was waiting for the actual video to be released. We filmed it in January and it wasn't released until mid April. Our little Hanson hearts had to wait 3 and a half months to finally see the video, which might as well have been 3 and a half years. That's how long it felt. We finally got word of the release date and the second it was released online all my friends watched it and we agreed that we'd call each other immediately after to discuss what we had saw. Have I mentioned how cool we are? I watched the video and I swear the world stopped in that moment. I went into it telling myself, "Colleen, they probably won't even show you. There's a chance they could have cut out your scene. Do not be upset. Just be thankful you got to be there in the first place." I watched and I couldn't beleive what I was seeing. "THEY SHOWED MY FACE! YOU CAN SEE ME! I'M IN HANSON'S MUSIC VIDEO!" I screamed! The only person who was around to hear me was Samberg, and he was looking quite alarmed as he couldn't understanding why I was jumping and screaming and yes, crying. He was very worried for his mother. I was happy with my quick cameo, but it doesn't stop there. It shows my friends and I dancing in the back and then my big moment came at the end. Yep. That's right. When Kat Dennings has her kissing scene you can see my blonde hair swaying back in forth IN SLOW MOTION. It was everything I dreamed and more. I've always imagined myself on camera whipping my hair around in slow motion. Every girl has dreamed about that one time or another. It finally happened for me...IN A HANSON MUSIC VIDEO. I was beside myself. I am not too proud to admit I cried, a lot. I called my mom crying. She was so happy for me. She couldn't believe it and asked me to send her the link to the video. My mom watched the video and called my back immedialtly. She was so happy and excited for me. "Did you see my hair?!" I exclaimed. "Yes! It looked beautiful!" she said. "I need to call Sheli (my hair stylist) and thank her for making me look like a natural blonde. I couldn't have done it without her." I said dead serious. "Yes, I am going to tell her. She will be so excited!" Before you start judging me, I'm from Sacramento ok, not a lot of exciting things happen there. This was big news for all of us and it was with Hanson. Everyone in the greater Sacramento area knows about my love for Hanson. It was a big day for our community.
I watched the video over and over for the next week, each time smiling as big as I did the very first time I watched it. The music video is such a big deal for me because it represents so many things. One, and the most obvious, my love for Hanson after all these years. I got to cross something off my bucket list and do it with my favorite band of 16 years. Second it's proof that dreams do come true, you just have to work for it. Don't take "no" an answer. If someone tells you "no", find another way to get your "yes". That's exactly what I did. It's funny because I wasn't even supposed to be in this music video at all and they ended up giving me more screen time than almost anyone else! There were girls that were cast as "special key roles" that were guaranteed they'd be seen in the bar scene, and they didn't end up showing them. I busted my way into a place I had no business being and ended up on camera. That is how you make things happen. Ever since I was little I have always been a girl with big, big dreams, but never knew how to achieve them. I thought that I wasn't lucky enough or smart enough to make my dreams a reality. I fell victim to my dreams and that's the worst feeling in the world. Feeling like you can't get what you want or that you don't deserve it. This day helped me realize that I CAN get what I want and I CAN make my dreams come true. I just have to fight for them. And let me tell you, being in a Hanson music video is one of the smallest dreams on my list. I've got much bigger dreams I'm fighting for. But no matter how big or small your dream is, you can make it a reality. If people achieved their dreams easily or if they were just handed them, it wouldn't be as rewarding. Reaching your dream is amazing, but I think what makes it so much better is know you made that dream happen. You worked hard for it. You figured a way, you went for it and you made it happen. I can't explain how empowered you will feel once you realize what you are capable of. It has to be one of the greatest feelings in the world. I honestly believe that if you do everything in your power and work your ass off, you can do anything in this life. You can make any dream come true, whatever it may be.
Last January my friends and I got word that Hanson was going to be filming their music video for their new upcoming single in LA and they were going to cast local fans to be in the video! I must first mention that I made a list years ago of things I wanted to do in my lifetime, and be in a music video was in the top 10. And that was just any music video, I wasn't specific. So when I found out there was a chance I could be in the music video for my favorite band in the entire world I pretty much lost my shit. I knew I had to be in this video. There was no other option in my mind. The only thing is you had to submit a picture and they would cast you based off of it basically. Fan club members got first priority. I am not a fan club member (though I was in the past) because I can't afford it. And I don't need a stupid key chain or member card to prove my love and devotion to these boys. My friends and I submitted our pictures and info and anxiously waited for any kind of news, call or email. I figured it wouldn't be a problem and we'd all easily get casted because, let's face it, sadly there aren't that many Hanson fans anymore.
Anyone who is a fan of Hanson knows they boys (bless their hearts) are notorious for doing things very last minute. So it was not surprising when at 10pm the night before the music video shoot, no one had heard anything. By no one, I mean absolutely no one: none of my friends, no calls or emails. We were checking Hanson's Facebook and Twitter page every 30 seconds, and the only news we found out was that no one had heard anything. At least we were not alone. Fans were freaking out everywhere. Finally around 1am, the emails starting being received. 3 of my friends got emails saying they had been chosen and gave them all the details for the morning shoot. I couldn't sleep as I was too nervous and kept checking my email. I checked Facebook and more and more people were posting on Hanson's page saying they had been chosen. I noticed that people from all over the place like New York and Canada were saying they were cast, but couldn't make it because they only gave a few hours notice. That is why it was supposed to be for local fans only. I on the other hand, had yet to get an email. I was loosing hope. At 3am Hanson tweeted that they were finishing up the last of the casting and all the emails would be sent out within the next half hour. Still no email for Colleen. At 3:30am I cried. Yeah, I shed a tear. My dream of being in my favorite band's music video was shattered. Sue me. At 6am I awoke to a text from my friend saying she had received "the email" and she was picked to be in the music video. I was happy for her, but sad for me. And the worst thing about it was that she wasn't even a fan club member. So fan club members all got picked, because they had priority, and then they picked a lot of non fan club members and then they did not pick me. I called my mom and crying and said "They didn't pick me! I'm not pretty enough!"(Don't judge me. It was a moment of weakness after a sleepless night, my dreams were crushed so I was a little emotional.) My mom felt bad and but couldn't believe they didn't pick me and they chose every single one of my friends. She's such a good mom. My friend who did get cast told me when and where they'd be filming and told me I should just show up and see if I can somehow get in or at the very least see Hanson. Okay, I had no desire to just "see Hanson." I've seen them 50 times in my life. I wasn't interested in that. As I cried to my mom I told her it wasn't fair because not only did they choose fan club members that weren't local LA residents, the people that weren't even in America, which is bull shit because there was no way in hell they'd be able to get to Los Angeles within 6 hours. So these greedy bitches took the spots of people who actually lived in LA (ummmm, ME!). I was livid. My mom asked me how I knew this, and I told her I saw people posting it on Facebook. Suddenly the light bulb went off in my head and a Grinch-like smile creeped across my face. I can only assume you've seen the Dr. Seuss cartoon "How The Grinch Stole Christmas." You know the scene where the Grinch comes up with idea to steal Christmas and this creepy, mischievous smile slowly spreads across his face? Yeah, that's exactly what my face looked like. I told my mom about one girl in particular (who will go unnamed) I saw on Facebook. She said she received the email saying she had been cast but lived too far away and couldn't make it. She was upset because she didn't live that far away and something about having problems with her internet or email and by the time she got the email it was too late and she wouldn't be able to get to LA in time. I felt bad for her as I completely understood. "Mom, I'm going to use this girl's name, show up to set and pretend him her." My mom thought it was a brilliant idea and in that moment I truly believe she had never been more proud of the young women her daughter turned out to be. Stealing someone's name to sneak into a place she didn't belong. I was creative and thinking outside the box and she thought that was great. I then said "Thank you _______ _______" out loud, asked my mom to wish me luck and hung up. And just like that I had a name that would be on the list and didn't have to worry about this person showing up to set. Then I prayed that they wouldn't ID anyone (as it wasn't a huge production) and was on my merry way. My friend who had an early call time told me when she showed up they didn't ask for a her ID or anything like that. All they asked for was her name. Golden.
They were filming at a small venue called The Satellite in Silver Lake, which is about as hipster as it gets. I met up with my friends and filled them in on my master plan. They were all very supportive (as true friends are) and told me I had a lot of balls to bust into a place that I had no permission to be in. "I'm Colleen" I told them "I do what I want" I said matter-of-factly. See, I have always lived my life like this: You can tell me the rules, and then I will decide if I want to follow them or not. I see no use for stupid rules that are, well, stupid. As long as I am not hurting myself or others, there's really no problem with breaking rules sometimes. Just because you tell me "no" doesn't mean I'm going to say "Oh, OK you're right. I give up." Hell to the no! If you tell me no, I will just find another way to get what I want. This was one of my dreams dammit and no one was going to stand it my way. I also feel the need to tell you one small thing about me. This thing had the power to ruin my entire plan: I am a terrible liar. The absolute worst. Everyone tells me I'm very real and have an open, expressive face. Whatever emotion I'm feeling: happy, sad, angry, tired, sick, excited, etc. you can clearly see it on my face. I can't hide it. I knew I'd be tested when they asked for my name and I had to give them my name, which was not really my name. "Colleen, you can do this. It's just a name. All you have to do is say 2 words and you're in the clear. This is a music video with Hanson we're talking about. Don't be a little bitch. Get it together!" And I did. I got in line, they asked me my name and I gave it to them. They said, OK, no questions asked. The hard part was over. I was still nervous because I didn't want to get caught and thrown out. I was so close I could feel it. Then a production assistant came out to the holding area and informed us that before we could go inside to film, we would all have to get our pictures taken and sign release forms giving our permission to be on camera as the video would be seen everywhere. My heart sank into my stomach. "Release form?" I choked on the words as I said them to my friend. "Dude, I can't sign a release form with someone else's name!!! Can't you go to jail for that?!?!?" I could already picture myself getting cuffed and put into the back of a LAPD cop car. The shame. The horror. "You guys, I can't go to jail. I have to be in this music video. If they want to take me to jail after, then so be it." I should also explain that I have a tendency to jump to the worst case scenario at times. Sometimes my mind gets the best of me and I get carried away. I usually talk some sense into myself, but not until after I've thoroughly freaked myself out for no reason. My friends calmed me down and told me it would be best if I just signed my real name. They already checked us in off the initial list. There were a hundred people and there was no way they were gonna make us all check in again off the same list, or go back and match everyone's release form to their name on the list. It wasn't necessary and would be a complete waste of time. When the time came I signed my real name, took my picture and was let into the venue to film. "Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! You're the man!" I said in my head, as I didn't want to cause a scene. I made it! It was smooth sailing from here on out. For the rest of the day I could just relax, hangout with my friends and my favorite boys/band in the whole entire world.
Once my friends and I got inside the assistant director put us in our places and gave us directions on when and where to go for when we started filming. The scene was set in a bar so they needed people to be hanging out in the background, walking around and talking just like you would do if you were out at a bar with your friends. They told my friend to walk with this short girl and then told me to walk by myself. "Walking alone? Story of my life, dude." I told him. So the plan was my friend would walk across the bar talking to this girl and then 30 seconds later I would follow them...but all alone. "This is super lame" I whispered to my friend. "I'm not doing that. I don't care what they told me to do. I'm walking with you two. I'm not gonna be the only loser walking walking alone in this video." My friend laughed and agreed with my plan, she knew my whole follow rules problem and would rather hang out with me then some short strange girl anyways. We rehearsed walking to our places a couple times. I went along with what they had originally told me to do, but was going to do what I wanted and walk with my friend when they actually started filming. There were a hundred extras they had to deal with so I knew if I waited a couple minutes they wouldn't remember what they told me to do, or even notice if I did anything different. I was right. Filming started and right on cue I walked with my friend right past the camera. It was really hard to concentrate the first time because the second they started playing the music, my friend and I almost peed our pants. Here's the thing, we have loved these boys for 16 years, and no matter how many amazing experiences we have with them, it never gets old. We are always just as excited as we were the first time we saw them when we were 10 years old. The reason for the peeing of the pants this time was Hanson's new single. It had been 3 years since they last put out an album. 3 years is a very long time in Hanson years. So they started playing the new song and we damn near lost it. My friend and I stopped and looked at each other with "OH MY GOSH!" expressions on our faces. Sometimes you don't have to say anything. One look is all it takes. "THIS SONG IS AMAZING! I mean it's really good, really, really good! I'm actually surprised and impressed!" I said to her. "I can't believe it! They sound like a real band!" my friend screamed excitedly. See, we love these boys so much, it doesn't matter what they do, we'd love it. They could sing the alphabet and we'd still love them, even though we may not agree with their song choice. We joke about that a lot. But the truth is, these 3 guys are incredibly talented. People will most likely never realize it because they won't be able to get past a little song called "MMMBop". Which, for the record, is no where close to being their best song. It's a great catchy song, but it doesn't even compare to their other music. Honestly. So we were excited because this song was good. Really damn good. So good it actually had a chance to get air time on the radio, and the best part was, no one would know or even expect it to be Hanson. Which is exactly what these boys need. They need to come out with an amazing song that people will like, then once they're already hooked they'll ask "Who sings this?" and all at once we will yell "Hanson, bitches! That's right! You like a Hanson song. Now suck it!" That's exactly how I envision it.
Back to the filming part. We filmed the scene (over and over and over. And over again. If you've ever been in any type of film or production, you understand what I'm talking about). During one take, Zac Hanson (the drummer and youngest member, who is 28 years old now) came over and talked to me. [Side note: Hanson fans are insane. They are the craziest people I have ever encountered. Every once and a while you will come across a few diamonds in the rough that are actually cool and most importantly normal. Those are my friends. That's why we have to stick together, because we're all that's left. I've meet Hanson countless times, and though they don't know my name (which I thank god for, it's a good thing!) they do recognize my face. I always say, "The day they know my name, is the day I know I've gone too far." They generally know they crazy fans that have stalked them their entire lives. I don't fall into this category, believe it or not. Every time I see Hanson, I keep my distance from them. I don't get all up in their faces asking annoying questions, because it's weird, and honestly, I don't know what to say to them. And it always works in my favor. I can't tell you how many times I have been aroudn them, keeping my distance, and Zac has walked up to ME and started a conversation with ME! That's right people, it's crazy what can happen when you give people a little thing called respect. don't be a crazy bitch, and it will work in your favor. I promise.) I am standing there in my position and Zac walks over to me and asks me how I am and how everything is going. "It's going great" I said playing it cool. Inside I am freaking out, always have, always will, when he talks to me. But I have learned how to play it cool like I'm talking to my friend, even though on the inside I am hyperventilating. The director yells that they're rolling and to get in position. "Watch this," I say to Zac and then walk across the room, just as I have 20 times already. The director yells "cut!" and tells everyone to go back to their starting position. I walk back all cocky and say "Nailed it!" to Zac and he started laughing. I said it with such pride and confidence like I had just completed a 5 page monologue in front of an audience of 5,000 people without making a single mistake. In reality all I did was walk without tripping. I'm not gonna lie, that's actually a huge accomplishment for me.
After we were done filming the bar scene it was time to film the performance part of the video. This was my favorite part because we got to watch Hanson perform their new song about 10 times in a row. It was awesome! My favorite part about attending any type of Hanson event with my best friends is that we have so much fun dancing and being stupid together, that we actually forget Hanson is there. We always dance crazy like we're completely drunk, when all we've had to drink is water. We're just that cool. We payed attention to Hanson the first couple times they performed, then we were over it and stood in the very back and danced like idiots. And it worked in our favor. Throughout the video, you can see us dancing in the back having fun. We didn't even have to push our way to the front or cut a bitch to get on camera. During the final scene Kat Dennings (you know her from "2 Broke Girls" and Nikki Reed, from "Twilight" are watching Hanson in the crowd with their "dates" and they both kiss the guys. I'm standing there, minding my own business and the director goes "Ok, Kat, I want you to stand right here" and literally shoves her next to me. She bumped into my, but not in a rude way. I didn't mind at all. "You're gonna stand here, then you're going to kiss Alex (her "date") and then you're going to watch the rest of the show with each other." "Oh shit!" I say to myself. "THIS IS MY MOMENT! The camera is going to be right on me!" I devised a plane in my head of how I was going to play this, because like I said, this was my big moment. I decided to go for the swinging and flipping my blonde hair through the air type of move. That's my signature, go-to move. People always tell me I have great hair, and I really couldn't let my fans down. They start rolling, the music plays, and I begin swaying my long blonde locks back and forth. I was afraid the director was gonna be like "Hey blondie, let's take it down a notch, shall we? It's not that serious." To my surprise, no one said anything. "Nailed it again!" I thought to myself. After the shoot was over. We were sad, but so happy and grateful as we had just spent the entire day with our favorite band filming their new music video. A day we will never, ever forget. Another side note, I know I trail off topic a lot but I have ADD and I can't help it. I just have to say, Kat Dennings and Nikki Reed are the nicest people I have ever met. And they are pretty famous celebrities. I ran into them in the bathroom and they were really sweet. I didn't ask them for an autograph or a picture, cuz I'm not like that, but they made small talk with me and Nikki Reed held the door open for me when I left. I think we should acknowledge the fact that random strangers don't even do something as simple or nice as holding the door open for you, let alone a famous actress. I said "Thank you" and she said "You're welcome" really sweet. Sometmies it's the simple things in life, ya know. I already liked Nikki and Kat before I met them, but they really went up in my book after, especially Miss Nikki. It's proof that you can be famous and still be a nice person. And they are actual Hanson fans, which is why they were in the video in the first place, which makes them twice as awesome in my opinion.
The hardest part of this whole experience was waiting for the actual video to be released. We filmed it in January and it wasn't released until mid April. Our little Hanson hearts had to wait 3 and a half months to finally see the video, which might as well have been 3 and a half years. That's how long it felt. We finally got word of the release date and the second it was released online all my friends watched it and we agreed that we'd call each other immediately after to discuss what we had saw. Have I mentioned how cool we are? I watched the video and I swear the world stopped in that moment. I went into it telling myself, "Colleen, they probably won't even show you. There's a chance they could have cut out your scene. Do not be upset. Just be thankful you got to be there in the first place." I watched and I couldn't beleive what I was seeing. "THEY SHOWED MY FACE! YOU CAN SEE ME! I'M IN HANSON'S MUSIC VIDEO!" I screamed! The only person who was around to hear me was Samberg, and he was looking quite alarmed as he couldn't understanding why I was jumping and screaming and yes, crying. He was very worried for his mother. I was happy with my quick cameo, but it doesn't stop there. It shows my friends and I dancing in the back and then my big moment came at the end. Yep. That's right. When Kat Dennings has her kissing scene you can see my blonde hair swaying back in forth IN SLOW MOTION. It was everything I dreamed and more. I've always imagined myself on camera whipping my hair around in slow motion. Every girl has dreamed about that one time or another. It finally happened for me...IN A HANSON MUSIC VIDEO. I was beside myself. I am not too proud to admit I cried, a lot. I called my mom crying. She was so happy for me. She couldn't believe it and asked me to send her the link to the video. My mom watched the video and called my back immedialtly. She was so happy and excited for me. "Did you see my hair?!" I exclaimed. "Yes! It looked beautiful!" she said. "I need to call Sheli (my hair stylist) and thank her for making me look like a natural blonde. I couldn't have done it without her." I said dead serious. "Yes, I am going to tell her. She will be so excited!" Before you start judging me, I'm from Sacramento ok, not a lot of exciting things happen there. This was big news for all of us and it was with Hanson. Everyone in the greater Sacramento area knows about my love for Hanson. It was a big day for our community.
I watched the video over and over for the next week, each time smiling as big as I did the very first time I watched it. The music video is such a big deal for me because it represents so many things. One, and the most obvious, my love for Hanson after all these years. I got to cross something off my bucket list and do it with my favorite band of 16 years. Second it's proof that dreams do come true, you just have to work for it. Don't take "no" an answer. If someone tells you "no", find another way to get your "yes". That's exactly what I did. It's funny because I wasn't even supposed to be in this music video at all and they ended up giving me more screen time than almost anyone else! There were girls that were cast as "special key roles" that were guaranteed they'd be seen in the bar scene, and they didn't end up showing them. I busted my way into a place I had no business being and ended up on camera. That is how you make things happen. Ever since I was little I have always been a girl with big, big dreams, but never knew how to achieve them. I thought that I wasn't lucky enough or smart enough to make my dreams a reality. I fell victim to my dreams and that's the worst feeling in the world. Feeling like you can't get what you want or that you don't deserve it. This day helped me realize that I CAN get what I want and I CAN make my dreams come true. I just have to fight for them. And let me tell you, being in a Hanson music video is one of the smallest dreams on my list. I've got much bigger dreams I'm fighting for. But no matter how big or small your dream is, you can make it a reality. If people achieved their dreams easily or if they were just handed them, it wouldn't be as rewarding. Reaching your dream is amazing, but I think what makes it so much better is know you made that dream happen. You worked hard for it. You figured a way, you went for it and you made it happen. I can't explain how empowered you will feel once you realize what you are capable of. It has to be one of the greatest feelings in the world. I honestly believe that if you do everything in your power and work your ass off, you can do anything in this life. You can make any dream come true, whatever it may be.
One of my hair whipping slow motion shots. See the music video (below) for the full effect.
Reason #12,986 why i love living in la: anything can happen
This is a (true!) story I like to call "Backstreet's Back, Alright!"
I, like most girls in their 20's, loved the Backstreet Boys at some point in her childhood. It just so happens that I still love them to this very day. Not in a creepy "I'm gonna hunt you down and marry you and cry in your face when I finally do see you" kind of way. But more in a, I still enjoy their music and the memories they gave me as a kid kind of way. I saw them in concert when I was 13 years old and pretty much cried the entire time. Yes, I was one of THOSE girls. I wasn't the obnoxious girl who screamed through the whole concert. Oh no. I was the girl bawling like a baby, next to the screaming girl. I don't know, just something about the sight of Nick Carter and his blonde hair in all its glory so close to me just made me lose it. I remember I felt really sick during the show, like I was going to throw up, and my dad said "Do you want to go home?" I looked at him as if an alien walked up to me and asked me if he could push me on the swing in the neighborhood park. "NO!" I screamed. "Dad, Nick Carter is RIGHT THERE! WE ARE NOT LEAVING!" I proceeded to sob throughout the rest of the show, went home, took my temperature and had a 102 degree fever but didn't even care. Nothing was going to separate me from The Boys, and especially not from that holy, pure, virgin of a boy Nick Carter (I was so naive back then), whom I liked to refer to as "my future husband." I saw them again when I was 18 with my mom (I'm beginning to sense a pattern here. Where were my friends? Oh that's right, I had none.) and they were amazing. Then dumbass Kevin had to leave the group and BSB fans around the world mourned. I still continued to love them, but gave up hope that they would ever reunite and things would never be the same. My world was shattered. Fast forward to 2012 when I got word the Backstreet Boys would be reuniting, all 5 of them, I was elated. Euphoric doesn't even begin to describe these feelings.
A year later when I got word that BSB would be playing a concert right by my work. I almost died instantly. I had to be there! That dreams was killed the second I learned tickets were $70...and I'm broke. I was crushed, but gave myself a big girl talk and snapped out of it. You see, I have gone to concerts on a regular basis since I was 8 years old. It is one of my favorite things to do and some of my favorite moments from my life have come from going to concerts. But I had to give that up when I moved to LA, because it's so expensive to live here and concert ticket prices are just through the roof these days. I'm okay with not getting to go to concerts and do stuff like that anymore because I love living in LA so much. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it. A couple days before the show I was at work and my manager mentioned he might be able to get my friend and I tickets, but couldn't make any promises. The venue often gives my work extra tickets, because we're cool like that. I almost burst open with excitement but told myself "Get it together girl. This isn't a for sure thing. It might not work out. Don't get your hopes up." But who am I kidding? This is me we're talking about after all. In my mind, I was already there singing "Everybody, rock your body!" It wasn't until the day of the actual show that I received an email from my manager saying he got my friend and I tickets and it's confirmed. I almost peed right then and there, but my dog staring at me and what kind of example would I be setting for my son? That it's ok to pee in the apartment every time you get excited and I can't have that. I called my mom right away (because, who else am I gonna call?) and said "I'm going to see the Backstreet Boys tonight!" Then texted my friend telling her to read the email. We proceeded to do the whole girl thing, "what are you gonna wear?!" "I don't know!" "I found my outfit!" "Text me a picture!" "Ok!" "Oh my gosh, that is so cute! I have nothing to wear :(" "Whatever, you're gonna look amazing no matter what you wear, girl." You know, typical girl crap.
My friend and I get to the venue and pick up our tickets at will call. We also meet up with 2 of our other friends from work (girls, duh) who were lucky enough to get tickets through work too. We pay $11 for a Coors Light (not a rip off whatsoever) and head into the theater. We have no idea where our seats are, we are just happy to be there. We ask an usher to show us where we are sitting and he notions for us to follow him. So we do. We start walking down the stairs, down the stairs, down some more stairs and are getting closer and closer to the stage. My friend and I exchange "Oh my gosh!" looks. We finally reach our seats. Center stage, 7th row. Not bad. I did everything not to cry, and call my mom to tell her how amazing our seats were. I'm a grown woman. I did not cry and opted to send my mom a text instead. There was music playing from the moment we walked into the theater, but hadn't even noticed as I was so blindsided by our amazing seats. I look up at the stage and there is a "DJ" (if you will) playing music. "Why the fuck is Pauly D here?!" I asked my friend. You read correctly. Pauly D was some kind of weird opening act for the Backstreet Boys, for some reason only the good Lord in heaven knows. I don't care for him at all and think he's a complete joke, so I just drank my beer and after that he was much more enjoyable. Thankfully his set didn't last long and he was gone. "YES!" I screamed. "Backstreet Boy Time!" "Not just yet Colleen. Some guy named Jesse McCartney is playing next" my friend informed me. "Jesse McCartney?! What is he doing here?!" (Side note: Jesse McCartney and I have history. Remind me to tell you about the time Jesse and I took pictures together in my parents classic 1963 baby blue Ford Falcon convertible. I'll save that story for another time.) I was pleased to see Jesse perform as I used to love him back in the day, especially before he went all ghetto. "He knows he's white, right?" I ask my friend during his performance. Jesse finishes his set, we sit through another intermission that felt like 5 hours and FINALLY it's time for Backstreet Boys to take the stage. My little heart almost exploded.
The boys appear and begin singing "The Call" the crowd goes wild, my friends and I try not to cry and so begins the show. Can I just say that after all these years, these "Boys" still got it! They sounded incredible, danced amazing and put one hell of a show. They sang all their hits and some new songs as well. At one point in the show Brian and I made eye contact (because we were that close to the stage). I waved to him and he jokingly looked behind him and then pointed to himself like, "Are you waving to me?", he smiled and waved back. I panicked and blew him a kiss and he blew a kiss back along with the sweetest smile in the world. I lost my shit. My friends looked at me and we all screamed "Oh my god!" in unison "Did you guys see that?!" I felt the need to double check to make sure it wasn't something I had imagined in my 13 year old state of mind. Everyone in the audience around us looked at me with excitement and a whole lot of jealousy. I'm just gonna be honest, I liked it. "That's right ladies! That kiss was for me!" I yelled. The rest of the night pretty much went like that. We sang and danced and sang and danced and yelled inappropriate things to Nick Carter, which one mother sitting near us was not thrilled with. "Whatever lady. This is Nick Carter we're talking about and we're not kids anymore. Deal with it" I yelled, I have no idea if she heard me and frankly don't care. They sing "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as one of their encore songs and I lost my shit....again. Screaming and singing at the top of my lungs, dancing trying not to fall over (and not because I had too much to drink. I had 1 over priced beer at the beginning of the night, but because some dumbass spilled their margarita all over the floor, which I put my purse in unknowingly, then put on my lap to find my bare legs covered in dirty, ground margarita. I was not pleased.)
The concert ends and we are on cloud 9. You're probably thinking this is where the story ends, but you're mistaken. This story is just getting started. You see, I forgot to mention one tiny detail: there is an official Backstreet Boy after party.....at my work. Apparently Nick, Kevin and Howie host after parties after every show on their "In A World Like This" tour, and this one just so happens to be at our place of employment. You had to purchase tickets for the after party. I'm not sure the exact price of these tickets, but I do know they were somewhere from $150 range, not including the concert ticket, which was entirely separate. We headed to the after party, walked right past the line and busted right through the doors thanks to the most bad ass managers on the face of this earth. We really wanted a picture with the boys and our manager told us he'd see what he could do, but again, couldn't make any promises because it was their event and we were just giving them the space for the party. We said ok. But if you know anything about me, you know that wouldn't stop me. You see, I don't know what it is, but I generally have extremely good luck with these kind of things. I couldn't tell you why, I just do. I told my friend "Don't you worry girl. I'm gonna get us our picture. These things have a way of working themselves out for me. Trust me." They roped off part of the restaurant for the VIP section, and for the stage where the boys would be at. The boys took the stage, Nick DJ'd and Kevin and Howie MC'd and got the crowd pumped. My friend and I stood in the back, but then we noticed there were girls dancing the stage with the guys. These girls had once been in the crowd with us, and the boys pulled them onstage. We see these girls dancing and singing and taking pictures with the boys and I turned to my friend and said "Oh hell no! We are getting up there!" We made our way to the back of the crowd, which wasn't a crazy amount of people, but there were a lot of girls, standing very firmly in their place. We were able to make it past a few girls then hit a brick wall, also a person that would not budge. We tried to maneuver our way past her at different angles, but this chick would not budge. And I was scared of what she might do to me if we pushed her. I said, "Screw this! Let's get their attention and they'll pull us onstage. I know they will." We made eye contact with Howie and mouthed "Can we come up?!" He said "Yeah!" and waved us over. But there was still a sea of alarmingly strong girls we had to pass. We squeezed past a couple other girls, only to get shoved into another girl and all I heard was "BITCH!" Some chick pushed my friend into me, which pushed me into another girl and now everyone was pissed. We stood our ground, and tried for round two of eye contact with Howie. Again, he waved us up on stage, and we tried to squeeze past the girls and I got elbowed in the stomach. "Fuck this! We are going around." I informed my friend. We walked around to the side of the stage and the VIP section that was roped off. I started talking to the young, cute, security guard and explained to him our dilemma. I told him Howie invited us on stage not once, but twice, but the army of fans would not allow it. He felt bad for us. Just then one of our coworkers who was working the event walked by (in their uniform of course) and we said, "Hey! What's up?" The security guard said, "Do you work here" we said "yes" then he said "hang on just a second" walked over to someone and whispered something in their ear. They looked at us and nodded their head. "Just one more second" he said. My friend and I exchanged "Oh hell yes!" glances. We were so close. The security had his hand on the rope to lift it and a security guard for the Backstreet Boys stopped him and said "No, sorry. They're only pulling girls onstage from the audience. No one can get onstage this way." "But Howie invited us!" we shrieked. "Sorry, but no one is allowed in this way." The cute security guard said, "Sorry ladies. There's nothing I can do. I have to abide by their rules." Never in my life have I felt so defeated. Just then my manager walks over, lifts the velvet rope, looks at all the security guards and says "They're good. Let them through." YES! We start to walk, and this lady grabs us and says, "Wait a minute!" Panicked, we looked to my manager, who ensured her that we were fine and we are employees. She released her firm grip on my arm and said "Oh, ok, I just saw you guys in the crowd and then thought you were trying to sneak your way up here." "No, we work here, it's ok." I said in my sweetest voice possible. We were in.
We walk over to the stage to get closer to the stage only to find another roadblock: the entrance to the stage was blocked. "Son of a bitch!" I yelled to my friend. Granted it was just a chair blocking it and we could have moved it, there was all this equipment and 2 guys standing were standing in the way. It was obvious no one was supposed to go that way unless they were the sound guys or whatever. But Nick Carter was literally so close we could have touched him if we reached out and leaned over the wall. We decided our best bet to get our damn picture with Nick would be to the side of the DJ booth and slowly inch our way closer and closer to him and pray that no one noticed. We began executing our plan, then the 2 guys who were standing there started talking to us. "This could go one of two ways" I said aloud in my head "We can flirt with them and they'll help us get our picture, or they will turn us away." Luckily for us, we are both blonde and it ended up being option number one. Only we didn't have to flirt. They were the ones flirting with us. "JACKPOT. This is going to be so easy," I whispered to my friend. We make small talk and the guys introduce themselves to us and tell them that we work at the restaurant, which for some reason, they thought was really awesome. One of the guys introduces himself and then says "And this is my cousin. He's friends with Nick. We live in Calabasas but my cousin and Nick are neighbors, they both have beach houses in Malibu." I nod politely and say, "Cool. Malibu, huh. That must be nice." acting unimpressed. Then he goes, "Do you guys want a picture with Nick?" I say, "I mean, only if we can. It's not a big deal if he can't do it. We don't want to cause any problems." "Not at all! Hang on, he'll get Nick."I turn to my friend and mouthed "Mission Accomplished." His cousin leans over and whispers something to Nick, Nick looks at us, nods his head and puts up one finger, (no, not that finger people) the "hang on one minute" finger. The guys continue to talk to us and start dancing with us while we wait for Nick. I mean, they are on us and clearly not going anywhere. We still wanted our picture so we went along with it. My friend and I turn and look to the side of the stage and see our manager looking at us and completely cracking up, laughing so hard. He knew exactly what was going on and what we were doing and he thought it was hilarious. We looked at him laughed, and then turned back and danced with the guys. Finally they say Nick is ready for us. I throw my camera at one of our new friends (the guys) and push myself as close as I can to Nick Carter. My friend of course did the same on the other side of him. We have the biggest smiles on our faces. I'm sure we looked like giddy junior high school girls, but we didn't care: We got our picture! We said thank you, looked at the picture right away (obviously) squealed in approval. It turned out cute! We were pleased. We hung out with the guys for the remainder of the night. The bought us a couple drinks, we exchanged numbers and then they invited us to come hang out at their beach house in Malibu afterwards. I looked at my friend and said "Ummmm, they just invited us to their beach house?!?" Now as tempting as that sounds, I've gotta say: Mama didn't raise no fool! At this point was 2 AM. I was not about to go all the way to Malibu, to a stranger's house, by myself. My friend had to leave, and so did I actually. Even if my friend and I decided to go together, it would still not be the smartest idea. A stranger is a stranger. I don't care how nice, or cool, or glamorous they may seem. I really had to get back to my poor dog who had been locked up in my apartment for 9 hours. I was just praying to God he hadn't committed suicide by now. And I have no AC in my apartment and was hotter than balls that night. Fans and open windows can only do so much. I explained to the guys that as great as it sounds, I had to get back to my dog. And I was exhausted. They understood but told us, "You are always welcome to come over and hang. We kick it and chill and have people over all the time. Nick comes over a lot too." Dude, you had me at Malibu Beach House. I'm not trying to get with Nick Carter. You don't have to sell me on the fact that you guys are friends. I know you are and that's great for you. I have friends too. They just don't have 2nd houses in Malibu. Hell, they don't have houses. We live in apartments. We keep it real...because we're poor. But hey, at least we're happy, right? I did not tell them this, because I did not have the energy to explain. We said goodbye and said we'll all hang out soon.
My friend leaves and I meet up with my other friend whom we got separated from during the scrambling to get onstage madness. We went into the back of our restaurant to grab or belongings to head home and our manager runs down the stairs and says "Hey! What are you two doing?! Follow me!" We drop our stuff on the ground and chase our manager up the stairs and he leads us to the meet and greet line. We give each other "OMGEE!" looks to express our excitement. If you've noticed, we do that a lot. Sometimes a glance is all it takes. We don't need words to understand what the other is thinking or feeling. We jump in at the very end of the line and wait in anticipation. It's finally our turn and we are escorted into the room where Nick, Howie and Kevin greet us with smiling faces. They hug us all, ask us how we're doing, what we thought of the show and thanked us for coming out. We took a picture with them, along with 2 random girls (some weird meet and greet rules. Whatevs, we couldn't care less) thanked them and ran away the way a child runs down the hall towards their presents on Christmas morning. We ran back downstairs grabbed our stuff and just stared at each other with ginormous smiles, beaming from ear to ear. We didn't say a single word. We didn't need to. The smiles said it all. We hugged and headed out to our cars, said goodbye, still beaming.
As I drove away I rolled down the windows, turned up the music and blasted "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as it was only the appropriate way to end the night. As I drove home I took in the sights around me, the palm trees, the bright lights of Hollywood and replayed back the entire night in my mind. I started to tear up because sometimes I can't believe where I'm at, how far I've come and can't even believe my own life sometimes. I don't live a crazy, glamorous life and couldn't be further from it. But I have come a long way just in the 16 months that I've been back in Los Angeles. I can't believe how lucky I am for all the amazing friends and memories I've made so far. Living in LA can be hard at times: I'm broke, I work my ass off, 3 jobs, 7 days a week, just to pay my bills. Which can be exhausting and leaves hardly any time or money to do much of anything. That's not me complaining, it's just the reality of living in LA. I knew what I was getting myself into, I signed up for it. I love living here so much that I'm willing to do whatever I need to do to stay here. I know I won't have to work this hard and be broke for the rest of my life. It's temporary and I'm just starting out. So when I experience rare nights like these, I almost can't believe it's real but couldn't be more grateful for them. A night like this would never ever happen if I was still living in Sacramento. These kinds of things only happen in LA, which is why it's so crazy and exciting to be here at times. Nights like these give me hope that things are going to get better and remind me that this is just the beginning. THIS story is why I love living in Los Angeles so much: Anything is possible.
I, like most girls in their 20's, loved the Backstreet Boys at some point in her childhood. It just so happens that I still love them to this very day. Not in a creepy "I'm gonna hunt you down and marry you and cry in your face when I finally do see you" kind of way. But more in a, I still enjoy their music and the memories they gave me as a kid kind of way. I saw them in concert when I was 13 years old and pretty much cried the entire time. Yes, I was one of THOSE girls. I wasn't the obnoxious girl who screamed through the whole concert. Oh no. I was the girl bawling like a baby, next to the screaming girl. I don't know, just something about the sight of Nick Carter and his blonde hair in all its glory so close to me just made me lose it. I remember I felt really sick during the show, like I was going to throw up, and my dad said "Do you want to go home?" I looked at him as if an alien walked up to me and asked me if he could push me on the swing in the neighborhood park. "NO!" I screamed. "Dad, Nick Carter is RIGHT THERE! WE ARE NOT LEAVING!" I proceeded to sob throughout the rest of the show, went home, took my temperature and had a 102 degree fever but didn't even care. Nothing was going to separate me from The Boys, and especially not from that holy, pure, virgin of a boy Nick Carter (I was so naive back then), whom I liked to refer to as "my future husband." I saw them again when I was 18 with my mom (I'm beginning to sense a pattern here. Where were my friends? Oh that's right, I had none.) and they were amazing. Then dumbass Kevin had to leave the group and BSB fans around the world mourned. I still continued to love them, but gave up hope that they would ever reunite and things would never be the same. My world was shattered. Fast forward to 2012 when I got word the Backstreet Boys would be reuniting, all 5 of them, I was elated. Euphoric doesn't even begin to describe these feelings.
A year later when I got word that BSB would be playing a concert right by my work. I almost died instantly. I had to be there! That dreams was killed the second I learned tickets were $70...and I'm broke. I was crushed, but gave myself a big girl talk and snapped out of it. You see, I have gone to concerts on a regular basis since I was 8 years old. It is one of my favorite things to do and some of my favorite moments from my life have come from going to concerts. But I had to give that up when I moved to LA, because it's so expensive to live here and concert ticket prices are just through the roof these days. I'm okay with not getting to go to concerts and do stuff like that anymore because I love living in LA so much. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it. A couple days before the show I was at work and my manager mentioned he might be able to get my friend and I tickets, but couldn't make any promises. The venue often gives my work extra tickets, because we're cool like that. I almost burst open with excitement but told myself "Get it together girl. This isn't a for sure thing. It might not work out. Don't get your hopes up." But who am I kidding? This is me we're talking about after all. In my mind, I was already there singing "Everybody, rock your body!" It wasn't until the day of the actual show that I received an email from my manager saying he got my friend and I tickets and it's confirmed. I almost peed right then and there, but my dog staring at me and what kind of example would I be setting for my son? That it's ok to pee in the apartment every time you get excited and I can't have that. I called my mom right away (because, who else am I gonna call?) and said "I'm going to see the Backstreet Boys tonight!" Then texted my friend telling her to read the email. We proceeded to do the whole girl thing, "what are you gonna wear?!" "I don't know!" "I found my outfit!" "Text me a picture!" "Ok!" "Oh my gosh, that is so cute! I have nothing to wear :(" "Whatever, you're gonna look amazing no matter what you wear, girl." You know, typical girl crap.
My friend and I get to the venue and pick up our tickets at will call. We also meet up with 2 of our other friends from work (girls, duh) who were lucky enough to get tickets through work too. We pay $11 for a Coors Light (not a rip off whatsoever) and head into the theater. We have no idea where our seats are, we are just happy to be there. We ask an usher to show us where we are sitting and he notions for us to follow him. So we do. We start walking down the stairs, down the stairs, down some more stairs and are getting closer and closer to the stage. My friend and I exchange "Oh my gosh!" looks. We finally reach our seats. Center stage, 7th row. Not bad. I did everything not to cry, and call my mom to tell her how amazing our seats were. I'm a grown woman. I did not cry and opted to send my mom a text instead. There was music playing from the moment we walked into the theater, but hadn't even noticed as I was so blindsided by our amazing seats. I look up at the stage and there is a "DJ" (if you will) playing music. "Why the fuck is Pauly D here?!" I asked my friend. You read correctly. Pauly D was some kind of weird opening act for the Backstreet Boys, for some reason only the good Lord in heaven knows. I don't care for him at all and think he's a complete joke, so I just drank my beer and after that he was much more enjoyable. Thankfully his set didn't last long and he was gone. "YES!" I screamed. "Backstreet Boy Time!" "Not just yet Colleen. Some guy named Jesse McCartney is playing next" my friend informed me. "Jesse McCartney?! What is he doing here?!" (Side note: Jesse McCartney and I have history. Remind me to tell you about the time Jesse and I took pictures together in my parents classic 1963 baby blue Ford Falcon convertible. I'll save that story for another time.) I was pleased to see Jesse perform as I used to love him back in the day, especially before he went all ghetto. "He knows he's white, right?" I ask my friend during his performance. Jesse finishes his set, we sit through another intermission that felt like 5 hours and FINALLY it's time for Backstreet Boys to take the stage. My little heart almost exploded.
The boys appear and begin singing "The Call" the crowd goes wild, my friends and I try not to cry and so begins the show. Can I just say that after all these years, these "Boys" still got it! They sounded incredible, danced amazing and put one hell of a show. They sang all their hits and some new songs as well. At one point in the show Brian and I made eye contact (because we were that close to the stage). I waved to him and he jokingly looked behind him and then pointed to himself like, "Are you waving to me?", he smiled and waved back. I panicked and blew him a kiss and he blew a kiss back along with the sweetest smile in the world. I lost my shit. My friends looked at me and we all screamed "Oh my god!" in unison "Did you guys see that?!" I felt the need to double check to make sure it wasn't something I had imagined in my 13 year old state of mind. Everyone in the audience around us looked at me with excitement and a whole lot of jealousy. I'm just gonna be honest, I liked it. "That's right ladies! That kiss was for me!" I yelled. The rest of the night pretty much went like that. We sang and danced and sang and danced and yelled inappropriate things to Nick Carter, which one mother sitting near us was not thrilled with. "Whatever lady. This is Nick Carter we're talking about and we're not kids anymore. Deal with it" I yelled, I have no idea if she heard me and frankly don't care. They sing "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as one of their encore songs and I lost my shit....again. Screaming and singing at the top of my lungs, dancing trying not to fall over (and not because I had too much to drink. I had 1 over priced beer at the beginning of the night, but because some dumbass spilled their margarita all over the floor, which I put my purse in unknowingly, then put on my lap to find my bare legs covered in dirty, ground margarita. I was not pleased.)
The concert ends and we are on cloud 9. You're probably thinking this is where the story ends, but you're mistaken. This story is just getting started. You see, I forgot to mention one tiny detail: there is an official Backstreet Boy after party.....at my work. Apparently Nick, Kevin and Howie host after parties after every show on their "In A World Like This" tour, and this one just so happens to be at our place of employment. You had to purchase tickets for the after party. I'm not sure the exact price of these tickets, but I do know they were somewhere from $150 range, not including the concert ticket, which was entirely separate. We headed to the after party, walked right past the line and busted right through the doors thanks to the most bad ass managers on the face of this earth. We really wanted a picture with the boys and our manager told us he'd see what he could do, but again, couldn't make any promises because it was their event and we were just giving them the space for the party. We said ok. But if you know anything about me, you know that wouldn't stop me. You see, I don't know what it is, but I generally have extremely good luck with these kind of things. I couldn't tell you why, I just do. I told my friend "Don't you worry girl. I'm gonna get us our picture. These things have a way of working themselves out for me. Trust me." They roped off part of the restaurant for the VIP section, and for the stage where the boys would be at. The boys took the stage, Nick DJ'd and Kevin and Howie MC'd and got the crowd pumped. My friend and I stood in the back, but then we noticed there were girls dancing the stage with the guys. These girls had once been in the crowd with us, and the boys pulled them onstage. We see these girls dancing and singing and taking pictures with the boys and I turned to my friend and said "Oh hell no! We are getting up there!" We made our way to the back of the crowd, which wasn't a crazy amount of people, but there were a lot of girls, standing very firmly in their place. We were able to make it past a few girls then hit a brick wall, also a person that would not budge. We tried to maneuver our way past her at different angles, but this chick would not budge. And I was scared of what she might do to me if we pushed her. I said, "Screw this! Let's get their attention and they'll pull us onstage. I know they will." We made eye contact with Howie and mouthed "Can we come up?!" He said "Yeah!" and waved us over. But there was still a sea of alarmingly strong girls we had to pass. We squeezed past a couple other girls, only to get shoved into another girl and all I heard was "BITCH!" Some chick pushed my friend into me, which pushed me into another girl and now everyone was pissed. We stood our ground, and tried for round two of eye contact with Howie. Again, he waved us up on stage, and we tried to squeeze past the girls and I got elbowed in the stomach. "Fuck this! We are going around." I informed my friend. We walked around to the side of the stage and the VIP section that was roped off. I started talking to the young, cute, security guard and explained to him our dilemma. I told him Howie invited us on stage not once, but twice, but the army of fans would not allow it. He felt bad for us. Just then one of our coworkers who was working the event walked by (in their uniform of course) and we said, "Hey! What's up?" The security guard said, "Do you work here" we said "yes" then he said "hang on just a second" walked over to someone and whispered something in their ear. They looked at us and nodded their head. "Just one more second" he said. My friend and I exchanged "Oh hell yes!" glances. We were so close. The security had his hand on the rope to lift it and a security guard for the Backstreet Boys stopped him and said "No, sorry. They're only pulling girls onstage from the audience. No one can get onstage this way." "But Howie invited us!" we shrieked. "Sorry, but no one is allowed in this way." The cute security guard said, "Sorry ladies. There's nothing I can do. I have to abide by their rules." Never in my life have I felt so defeated. Just then my manager walks over, lifts the velvet rope, looks at all the security guards and says "They're good. Let them through." YES! We start to walk, and this lady grabs us and says, "Wait a minute!" Panicked, we looked to my manager, who ensured her that we were fine and we are employees. She released her firm grip on my arm and said "Oh, ok, I just saw you guys in the crowd and then thought you were trying to sneak your way up here." "No, we work here, it's ok." I said in my sweetest voice possible. We were in.
We walk over to the stage to get closer to the stage only to find another roadblock: the entrance to the stage was blocked. "Son of a bitch!" I yelled to my friend. Granted it was just a chair blocking it and we could have moved it, there was all this equipment and 2 guys standing were standing in the way. It was obvious no one was supposed to go that way unless they were the sound guys or whatever. But Nick Carter was literally so close we could have touched him if we reached out and leaned over the wall. We decided our best bet to get our damn picture with Nick would be to the side of the DJ booth and slowly inch our way closer and closer to him and pray that no one noticed. We began executing our plan, then the 2 guys who were standing there started talking to us. "This could go one of two ways" I said aloud in my head "We can flirt with them and they'll help us get our picture, or they will turn us away." Luckily for us, we are both blonde and it ended up being option number one. Only we didn't have to flirt. They were the ones flirting with us. "JACKPOT. This is going to be so easy," I whispered to my friend. We make small talk and the guys introduce themselves to us and tell them that we work at the restaurant, which for some reason, they thought was really awesome. One of the guys introduces himself and then says "And this is my cousin. He's friends with Nick. We live in Calabasas but my cousin and Nick are neighbors, they both have beach houses in Malibu." I nod politely and say, "Cool. Malibu, huh. That must be nice." acting unimpressed. Then he goes, "Do you guys want a picture with Nick?" I say, "I mean, only if we can. It's not a big deal if he can't do it. We don't want to cause any problems." "Not at all! Hang on, he'll get Nick."I turn to my friend and mouthed "Mission Accomplished." His cousin leans over and whispers something to Nick, Nick looks at us, nods his head and puts up one finger, (no, not that finger people) the "hang on one minute" finger. The guys continue to talk to us and start dancing with us while we wait for Nick. I mean, they are on us and clearly not going anywhere. We still wanted our picture so we went along with it. My friend and I turn and look to the side of the stage and see our manager looking at us and completely cracking up, laughing so hard. He knew exactly what was going on and what we were doing and he thought it was hilarious. We looked at him laughed, and then turned back and danced with the guys. Finally they say Nick is ready for us. I throw my camera at one of our new friends (the guys) and push myself as close as I can to Nick Carter. My friend of course did the same on the other side of him. We have the biggest smiles on our faces. I'm sure we looked like giddy junior high school girls, but we didn't care: We got our picture! We said thank you, looked at the picture right away (obviously) squealed in approval. It turned out cute! We were pleased. We hung out with the guys for the remainder of the night. The bought us a couple drinks, we exchanged numbers and then they invited us to come hang out at their beach house in Malibu afterwards. I looked at my friend and said "Ummmm, they just invited us to their beach house?!?" Now as tempting as that sounds, I've gotta say: Mama didn't raise no fool! At this point was 2 AM. I was not about to go all the way to Malibu, to a stranger's house, by myself. My friend had to leave, and so did I actually. Even if my friend and I decided to go together, it would still not be the smartest idea. A stranger is a stranger. I don't care how nice, or cool, or glamorous they may seem. I really had to get back to my poor dog who had been locked up in my apartment for 9 hours. I was just praying to God he hadn't committed suicide by now. And I have no AC in my apartment and was hotter than balls that night. Fans and open windows can only do so much. I explained to the guys that as great as it sounds, I had to get back to my dog. And I was exhausted. They understood but told us, "You are always welcome to come over and hang. We kick it and chill and have people over all the time. Nick comes over a lot too." Dude, you had me at Malibu Beach House. I'm not trying to get with Nick Carter. You don't have to sell me on the fact that you guys are friends. I know you are and that's great for you. I have friends too. They just don't have 2nd houses in Malibu. Hell, they don't have houses. We live in apartments. We keep it real...because we're poor. But hey, at least we're happy, right? I did not tell them this, because I did not have the energy to explain. We said goodbye and said we'll all hang out soon.
My friend leaves and I meet up with my other friend whom we got separated from during the scrambling to get onstage madness. We went into the back of our restaurant to grab or belongings to head home and our manager runs down the stairs and says "Hey! What are you two doing?! Follow me!" We drop our stuff on the ground and chase our manager up the stairs and he leads us to the meet and greet line. We give each other "OMGEE!" looks to express our excitement. If you've noticed, we do that a lot. Sometimes a glance is all it takes. We don't need words to understand what the other is thinking or feeling. We jump in at the very end of the line and wait in anticipation. It's finally our turn and we are escorted into the room where Nick, Howie and Kevin greet us with smiling faces. They hug us all, ask us how we're doing, what we thought of the show and thanked us for coming out. We took a picture with them, along with 2 random girls (some weird meet and greet rules. Whatevs, we couldn't care less) thanked them and ran away the way a child runs down the hall towards their presents on Christmas morning. We ran back downstairs grabbed our stuff and just stared at each other with ginormous smiles, beaming from ear to ear. We didn't say a single word. We didn't need to. The smiles said it all. We hugged and headed out to our cars, said goodbye, still beaming.
As I drove away I rolled down the windows, turned up the music and blasted "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as it was only the appropriate way to end the night. As I drove home I took in the sights around me, the palm trees, the bright lights of Hollywood and replayed back the entire night in my mind. I started to tear up because sometimes I can't believe where I'm at, how far I've come and can't even believe my own life sometimes. I don't live a crazy, glamorous life and couldn't be further from it. But I have come a long way just in the 16 months that I've been back in Los Angeles. I can't believe how lucky I am for all the amazing friends and memories I've made so far. Living in LA can be hard at times: I'm broke, I work my ass off, 3 jobs, 7 days a week, just to pay my bills. Which can be exhausting and leaves hardly any time or money to do much of anything. That's not me complaining, it's just the reality of living in LA. I knew what I was getting myself into, I signed up for it. I love living here so much that I'm willing to do whatever I need to do to stay here. I know I won't have to work this hard and be broke for the rest of my life. It's temporary and I'm just starting out. So when I experience rare nights like these, I almost can't believe it's real but couldn't be more grateful for them. A night like this would never ever happen if I was still living in Sacramento. These kinds of things only happen in LA, which is why it's so crazy and exciting to be here at times. Nights like these give me hope that things are going to get better and remind me that this is just the beginning. THIS story is why I love living in Los Angeles so much: Anything is possible.
My awkward encounter with drake bell at Lexington social house
I have included pictures from my fountain and Carl's Jr. cheeseburger photo shoots for your viewing pleasure.
Lexington Social House is located on the famous intersection of Hollywood and Vine. In staying true to its Hollywood roots, it just got a facelift. I have been to Lexington Social House a few times, both before and after its renovation.
Before it was more of a club, with a DJ booth and a dance floor and an outdoor patio to hang out and drink if loud music and getting grinded on by sweaty strangers isn't your thing. It's was a great place to dance the night away with your friends. I went back one night after it's changes and to my surprise I found a completely different scene. I have to be honest (because that's kind of my thing) I like the new Lexington Social House much better. My friend and I met up with some friends at Lexington one night and we watched this awesome local LA band LoLove (more about them in just a little!) Instead of a small dance floor packed to the max with people, I found a classier lounge type vibe. There were comfy, and quite fashionable, booth like couches all around the venue accompanied by tables. My favorite addition was the 3 stripper poles that were attached at the top of the booth all the way up to the ceiling. Yes, I realize I said Lexington is classy. I realize you may not associate "stripper pole" with "classy" but trust me when I say, they are the classiest stripper poles you've ever seen. It's kind of more for looks. You know, like how there is a giant stripper pole in the very back of a party bus? Yeah, like that. There are always the few *brave* people who attempt to dance on the pole *coughMEcough* Don't judge me. Personally if I see a giant stripper pole my instant reaction is to hop on it and dance around it like a hot mess. I can't resist the temptation. Well, most of the time. This particular night I held it together and did not jump on the pole and act a fool in front of a room full of strangers and my friends. (Don't you worry your pretty little mind, rest assured, I acted a fool in other ways.) And the only reason I did not stripper pole it up is because my friend, bless her heart, talked me out of it and saved me from public humiliation. That is a true friend right there I'll have you know.
Sorry, I get sidetracked sometimes, well most of the time. Ok all the time. Back to Lexington. The other new addition to LSH was a stage in the front of the room. They now have live music and bands that play during the week, which is one of my favorite things ever. Hanging out with your friends, in a low key but still super fun environment, watching talented musicians do their thing.
This particular night was a Tuesday and lucky for us, every Tuesday this amazing band called LoLove hosts "LoLovers Covers" where they play covers of songs from artists ranging from Frank Ocean to Radiohead. LoLove is a 3 person band, the lead singer is a gorgeous (blonde) girl and a super hot guitar and bass player. Aside from all 3 being extremely attractive, they are insanely talented. The lead singer has one of the most amazingly unique voices I've ever heard. Honestly! You know when you hear Adele sing one word you already know it's here without having to hear the song because her voice is that recognizable and unique? That's how it is to hear the LoLove frontwoman sing her ass off. The only thing I love more than a band with a female lead singer, is a band with a blonde lead singer. My friend at work always tells me "The only artists you like are blonde girls. Taylor Swift? You love her. Carrie Underwood? You love her and always say she's the 'most perfect human on the planet.' If someone sings and they're blonde, you love them. That's your only requirement. AND, if they aren't blonde, chances are they were blonde at some point in their life." OK. He does have a point, BUT I don't only like people if they're blonde. Does Katy Perry ring a bell? I effing L.O.V.E. her. It just so happens that most of the time a lot of famous female singers are blonde. Not my problem. Ugh. Off track again.....There we are, watching LoLove do an amazing cover of "Optimistic" by Radio Head and after they finish the song, Shea (the hot blonde lead singer) says "I hear Drake Bell is in the house tonight!" Drake Bell, as in Nickelodeon "Drake & Josh" Drake. That was muh show back in the dayyy. I managed to take my eyes off the delicious mini cheeseburger I was currently destroying to find Drake Bell literally standing 3 feet from me. When he got there and how long he had been standing next to me, I have no idea. I was clearly distracted by my mini cheeseburger and the photo shoot my friend and I were taking with them. "Let's take pictures with the mini cheeseburgers all sexy like those girls do in the Carl's Jr. commercials!" I said to my friend excitedly and proud of myself for coming up with such a life changing idea. So sue me if I didn't notice the second Drake Bell walked into the room or that he was standing a few feet from me for only God knows how long. I clearly had bigger things going on. Drake hops on stage, picks up a guitar and sings a song or two then hops back off and LoLove finishes their set. One more side note about LoLove: I loved them from the second I saw them perform. I was hooked. I didn't think I could love them anymore... them my friend and I talked to Shea after the show, and she is no doubt the sweetest, most genuine I've ever met in LA. And she was born and raised in LA. People generally tend to have major egos and attitudes in Hollywood and especially people who grew up there because it's just what they know. But not Shea. She is just so sweet and personable and someone you want to be instantly best friends with. That is the reason you should all check out LoLove and support them: not only are they extremely talented and have great music, they are great people too. And I think that tops being talented. This city is full of talented people, but it is not full of genuinely nice, sweet, talented people. It's kind of like finding a purple flying unicorn. It just doesn't happen often.
Now comes for my favorite part of the night: My extremely awkward encounter with Drake Bell. [NOTE: Drake Bell is also a guest star in Hanson's video for "Get The Girl Back" which also happens to be my famous music video debut. This is very important, need to know information.] After he finished performing he was standing over by the bar, an empty bar. In fact, there couldn't have been more than 30 people at LSH that night. I'd be lying if I said my friend and I hadn't had a few drinks. We had that liquid courage going on if you know what I mean. My friend walks over to Drake and starts talking to him. Keep in mind she is gorgeous, blonde, outgoing and fun, so he obviously didn't mind her company. I walk over and after they finish their conversation I felt the need to tell him this fact about the two of us. I lean in and blurt out "I have to tell you, you and I have something in common." "Oh yeah, what's that?" he says. I proudly say "You and I are in the same music video for Hanson's 'Get The Girl Back.' I bet you don't know this, but at the end of the video when Kat Dennings leans in for her big kissing scene, you can see this gorgeous blonde hair swaying back in forth in slow motion. And do you know who that hair belongs to? ME. That's right! It's me." Keep in mind I say all this way too confidently, like I had just created the fucking wheel or discovered electricity. Drake gives me kind of a weird look (I can't imagine why) and says "I did not know that." Then he smiles and says "What's your name?" and reaches out to shake my hand. "Colleen" I say, then after an awkward pause I flee. That's right. When things get awkward I sometimes feel the need to run away and that's exactly what I did. During that 2 second pause that felt like 2 hours, I suddenly realized how awkward and stupid I must have sounded to him so I ran away. The only thing that made me feel less dumb is the fact that I'm pretty sure Drake too had some liquid courage going on as well. A lot of it. I found solace in that fact. I started talking to another friend, then I look over and I see Drake dancing with my super hot friend. "Of course." I say to myself. "Story of my life." After 1.3 seconds of throwing myself a pity party, I got really excited because my hot friend was dancing with Drake Bell. I was going to take a picture of it, but my reflexes were a little bit slower that night for some unknown reason. The next thing I knew Drake was gone. One second they were smiling and dancing, then next he was gone. "What the hell happened?!" I asked my friend. "I have no idea!" she said. "Dammit!" I yelled. "We were supposed to take a picture with him! How is anyone going to believe us if we don't have proof!" I was distraught. 5 seconds later a nice gentleman walks over to me and says, "I believe you dropped this." and hands me my ID. "Oh my gosh thank you! God bless you good Samaritan!" I exclaimed. How the hell my ID fell out of my ZIPPED purse, I'll never know. But this does not surprise me, as I am Colleen and these types of things happen to me, because I'm Colleen. I was overjoyed and thankful that the good Samaritan found and returned my ID to me, and slightly embarrassed as my photo on my ID is of me when I was 15 years old and resemble what can only be known as a Keebler Elf. It's not great. My friend and I leave and I begin asking her what she and Drake talked about. "He told me where they were going after Lexington" she said. "WTF?! Where are they going?!?!" I screech. "I don't remember" she says blankly. And that was the end of that. Well, she tried really hard to remember and I tried really hard to figure out where he could possibly be, but were unsuccessful. Two blondes couldn't solve a puzzle. Go figure. And THAT was the end of that. We decided to meet up with our friends at a nearby bar, but halfway through our walk decided that 3 blocks was just too far for us to walk and called a cab to come pick us up and take us home. But not before I felt the urge to take 4 awkward photos of me doing weird poses in front of a fountain with a horse statue in the middle and looking extremely happy about it.
This story is a representation of what I like to call "Typical Tuesday" in Hollywood. And Drake, if you're reading this, how dare you not recognize my beautiful flowing blonde locks. I'm fucking famous. People stop me in the street to ask me about my hair's cameo in Hanson's "Get The Girl Back" music video. Okay, okay, that last part might be an exaggeration. But all my friends, family and co-workers and my dog Samberg, think it's really cool. I'm famous in their eyes.
Before it was more of a club, with a DJ booth and a dance floor and an outdoor patio to hang out and drink if loud music and getting grinded on by sweaty strangers isn't your thing. It's was a great place to dance the night away with your friends. I went back one night after it's changes and to my surprise I found a completely different scene. I have to be honest (because that's kind of my thing) I like the new Lexington Social House much better. My friend and I met up with some friends at Lexington one night and we watched this awesome local LA band LoLove (more about them in just a little!) Instead of a small dance floor packed to the max with people, I found a classier lounge type vibe. There were comfy, and quite fashionable, booth like couches all around the venue accompanied by tables. My favorite addition was the 3 stripper poles that were attached at the top of the booth all the way up to the ceiling. Yes, I realize I said Lexington is classy. I realize you may not associate "stripper pole" with "classy" but trust me when I say, they are the classiest stripper poles you've ever seen. It's kind of more for looks. You know, like how there is a giant stripper pole in the very back of a party bus? Yeah, like that. There are always the few *brave* people who attempt to dance on the pole *coughMEcough* Don't judge me. Personally if I see a giant stripper pole my instant reaction is to hop on it and dance around it like a hot mess. I can't resist the temptation. Well, most of the time. This particular night I held it together and did not jump on the pole and act a fool in front of a room full of strangers and my friends. (Don't you worry your pretty little mind, rest assured, I acted a fool in other ways.) And the only reason I did not stripper pole it up is because my friend, bless her heart, talked me out of it and saved me from public humiliation. That is a true friend right there I'll have you know.
Sorry, I get sidetracked sometimes, well most of the time. Ok all the time. Back to Lexington. The other new addition to LSH was a stage in the front of the room. They now have live music and bands that play during the week, which is one of my favorite things ever. Hanging out with your friends, in a low key but still super fun environment, watching talented musicians do their thing.
This particular night was a Tuesday and lucky for us, every Tuesday this amazing band called LoLove hosts "LoLovers Covers" where they play covers of songs from artists ranging from Frank Ocean to Radiohead. LoLove is a 3 person band, the lead singer is a gorgeous (blonde) girl and a super hot guitar and bass player. Aside from all 3 being extremely attractive, they are insanely talented. The lead singer has one of the most amazingly unique voices I've ever heard. Honestly! You know when you hear Adele sing one word you already know it's here without having to hear the song because her voice is that recognizable and unique? That's how it is to hear the LoLove frontwoman sing her ass off. The only thing I love more than a band with a female lead singer, is a band with a blonde lead singer. My friend at work always tells me "The only artists you like are blonde girls. Taylor Swift? You love her. Carrie Underwood? You love her and always say she's the 'most perfect human on the planet.' If someone sings and they're blonde, you love them. That's your only requirement. AND, if they aren't blonde, chances are they were blonde at some point in their life." OK. He does have a point, BUT I don't only like people if they're blonde. Does Katy Perry ring a bell? I effing L.O.V.E. her. It just so happens that most of the time a lot of famous female singers are blonde. Not my problem. Ugh. Off track again.....There we are, watching LoLove do an amazing cover of "Optimistic" by Radio Head and after they finish the song, Shea (the hot blonde lead singer) says "I hear Drake Bell is in the house tonight!" Drake Bell, as in Nickelodeon "Drake & Josh" Drake. That was muh show back in the dayyy. I managed to take my eyes off the delicious mini cheeseburger I was currently destroying to find Drake Bell literally standing 3 feet from me. When he got there and how long he had been standing next to me, I have no idea. I was clearly distracted by my mini cheeseburger and the photo shoot my friend and I were taking with them. "Let's take pictures with the mini cheeseburgers all sexy like those girls do in the Carl's Jr. commercials!" I said to my friend excitedly and proud of myself for coming up with such a life changing idea. So sue me if I didn't notice the second Drake Bell walked into the room or that he was standing a few feet from me for only God knows how long. I clearly had bigger things going on. Drake hops on stage, picks up a guitar and sings a song or two then hops back off and LoLove finishes their set. One more side note about LoLove: I loved them from the second I saw them perform. I was hooked. I didn't think I could love them anymore... them my friend and I talked to Shea after the show, and she is no doubt the sweetest, most genuine I've ever met in LA. And she was born and raised in LA. People generally tend to have major egos and attitudes in Hollywood and especially people who grew up there because it's just what they know. But not Shea. She is just so sweet and personable and someone you want to be instantly best friends with. That is the reason you should all check out LoLove and support them: not only are they extremely talented and have great music, they are great people too. And I think that tops being talented. This city is full of talented people, but it is not full of genuinely nice, sweet, talented people. It's kind of like finding a purple flying unicorn. It just doesn't happen often.
Now comes for my favorite part of the night: My extremely awkward encounter with Drake Bell. [NOTE: Drake Bell is also a guest star in Hanson's video for "Get The Girl Back" which also happens to be my famous music video debut. This is very important, need to know information.] After he finished performing he was standing over by the bar, an empty bar. In fact, there couldn't have been more than 30 people at LSH that night. I'd be lying if I said my friend and I hadn't had a few drinks. We had that liquid courage going on if you know what I mean. My friend walks over to Drake and starts talking to him. Keep in mind she is gorgeous, blonde, outgoing and fun, so he obviously didn't mind her company. I walk over and after they finish their conversation I felt the need to tell him this fact about the two of us. I lean in and blurt out "I have to tell you, you and I have something in common." "Oh yeah, what's that?" he says. I proudly say "You and I are in the same music video for Hanson's 'Get The Girl Back.' I bet you don't know this, but at the end of the video when Kat Dennings leans in for her big kissing scene, you can see this gorgeous blonde hair swaying back in forth in slow motion. And do you know who that hair belongs to? ME. That's right! It's me." Keep in mind I say all this way too confidently, like I had just created the fucking wheel or discovered electricity. Drake gives me kind of a weird look (I can't imagine why) and says "I did not know that." Then he smiles and says "What's your name?" and reaches out to shake my hand. "Colleen" I say, then after an awkward pause I flee. That's right. When things get awkward I sometimes feel the need to run away and that's exactly what I did. During that 2 second pause that felt like 2 hours, I suddenly realized how awkward and stupid I must have sounded to him so I ran away. The only thing that made me feel less dumb is the fact that I'm pretty sure Drake too had some liquid courage going on as well. A lot of it. I found solace in that fact. I started talking to another friend, then I look over and I see Drake dancing with my super hot friend. "Of course." I say to myself. "Story of my life." After 1.3 seconds of throwing myself a pity party, I got really excited because my hot friend was dancing with Drake Bell. I was going to take a picture of it, but my reflexes were a little bit slower that night for some unknown reason. The next thing I knew Drake was gone. One second they were smiling and dancing, then next he was gone. "What the hell happened?!" I asked my friend. "I have no idea!" she said. "Dammit!" I yelled. "We were supposed to take a picture with him! How is anyone going to believe us if we don't have proof!" I was distraught. 5 seconds later a nice gentleman walks over to me and says, "I believe you dropped this." and hands me my ID. "Oh my gosh thank you! God bless you good Samaritan!" I exclaimed. How the hell my ID fell out of my ZIPPED purse, I'll never know. But this does not surprise me, as I am Colleen and these types of things happen to me, because I'm Colleen. I was overjoyed and thankful that the good Samaritan found and returned my ID to me, and slightly embarrassed as my photo on my ID is of me when I was 15 years old and resemble what can only be known as a Keebler Elf. It's not great. My friend and I leave and I begin asking her what she and Drake talked about. "He told me where they were going after Lexington" she said. "WTF?! Where are they going?!?!" I screech. "I don't remember" she says blankly. And that was the end of that. Well, she tried really hard to remember and I tried really hard to figure out where he could possibly be, but were unsuccessful. Two blondes couldn't solve a puzzle. Go figure. And THAT was the end of that. We decided to meet up with our friends at a nearby bar, but halfway through our walk decided that 3 blocks was just too far for us to walk and called a cab to come pick us up and take us home. But not before I felt the urge to take 4 awkward photos of me doing weird poses in front of a fountain with a horse statue in the middle and looking extremely happy about it.
This story is a representation of what I like to call "Typical Tuesday" in Hollywood. And Drake, if you're reading this, how dare you not recognize my beautiful flowing blonde locks. I'm fucking famous. People stop me in the street to ask me about my hair's cameo in Hanson's "Get The Girl Back" music video. Okay, okay, that last part might be an exaggeration. But all my friends, family and co-workers and my dog Samberg, think it's really cool. I'm famous in their eyes.
