Good morning everybody, and welcome back from a great holiday weekend. I'm in Los Angeles working on casting a few great competition shows to come later this year on The B. (Should we start calling Bravo "The B???" How about we don't ever do that.)
Getting to L.A. was something of a nightmare given that I arrived at Kennedy Airport only to realize that I had no photo ID. Realizing I am not Halle Berry and thereby cannot travel sans ident, (The TSA allegedly let her through a couple weeks ago), I hightailed it back to
the city with delusions of then turning back around and somehow whisking onto the plane that was to take off an hour later. That didn't happen and a harrowing mindbender ensued in the form of a cat and mouse game around the city chasing down a driver's license that was in my suit pocket from the night before en route uptown via messenger to be altered. (That is called a rambling sentence with hanging prepositions everywhere and I don't know if it will ever make
sense to you.)
So anyway I made it here in time for a real Los Angeles Globey weekend. I went to a friend's party on Saturday night in Bel Air that was literally like Oprah's Legends Ball. One of my highlights was chatting with the Collins sisters, Jackie and Joan. I love me some
Joan Collins but had never meant her author sister. It turns out that Jackie has not only seen every episode of Housewives in existence, but is also a massive Watch What Happens Live fan. What are the chances that the author of The Bitch and The Stud is also a regular in
the Bravo Clubhouse??? Sir Elton was there too and, though I didn't meet him, I saw him sneeze loudly.
On Saturday I took part in the NOH8 campaign, which is a photo project and silent protest created by photographer Adam Bouska and his partner Jeff Parshley in response to the passage of Prop 8. Basically it's a series of thousands of photographs of people (thousands have taken part, including a ton of Bravolebrities) with duct tape over their mouths symbolizing their voices not being heard. It's a grassroots deal meant to spread the message virally. I obviously agree with their message, and was thinking about it a lot on yesterday's celebration
of Dr. King and a different equality he fought for, but I also love how they saturate and airbrush the hell out of their subjects. Here's mine:
The Sunday Times was fairly irritating yesterday; between their obituary of NBC and their second rave for Rock of Ages, I didn't know where to turn. They're making a movie out of it, I hear. Whaaa?
I thought the awards were a snooze, highlighted by the sad fact that there aren't many good movies this year. I don't get how they're going to find 10 to nominate for the Best Picture Oscar. (Maybe Rock of Ages will be up next year?) I loved Mo'Nique's speech, and was rooting for Gabaret Sidibe to win but that didn't happen. I thought Drew Barrymore was full of sweet emotion, that Reese Witherspoon, Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, and Halle Berry looked the best. ALERT to the audience, when Cher enters a room, YOU STAND.
We went to the CAA party, which is where every supersparkly sequin seemed to wind up. My personal highlights were reconnecting with Julie Chen and Matthew Morrison from Glee. Everybody who knows Matt from his Broadway days is thrilled from within for his success — couldn't have happened to a nicer, more talented guy. He is going to have a
huge singing career next.
Yesterday was a monsoon here, and it's supposed to continue at least until I split on Wednesday night. Joy.