In the daily pursuit of my so-called "glamorous life," I typically walk a thin line between being totally shocked or completely unsurprised by famous people. Take this week, for instance: A local bartender friend confided that my beloved Office Space actor Ron Livingston (who I recently bumped into on the street and chatted up) is actually gay. Gay? Yes, GAY. He frequently swings bi (sorry, bad pun) a neighborhood bar with his TV host boyfriend. Who knew? Certainly not I.
Though I often pride myself on having stellar gaydar, this one definitely threw me for a (fruit) loop. Even more so than the time my buddy Scrat told me that Mark Wahlberg was giving him the eye at a party. I felt all weirdly competitive about that because Marky-Mark hit on me once too!
Now, consider the possible hypocrisy of these two interview statements he gave after he approached me backstage at the Gotham Awards a few years ago. Stupid me didn't flirt back -- my secret nerd shined through and confessed I was a reporter, and could I interview him? Thank you so much.
Me: What's your New Year's resolution?
Mark: "I don't usually wait until the New Year. Throughout the year I'm constantly reevaluating myself, what I should and shouldn't be doing. Especially now that I have a child."
Me: And your favorite movie of 2004?
Mark: "The Passion of the Christ. I'm a serious Catholic, so it was very moving to me."
I think he was once an alter boy too. You know what that means!
But I digress. I remember being acutely aware of celebrity homosexuality from a very early age. While all my middle school girl friends were hanging up George Michael posters on their bedroom walls, I was wondering whose sex he really wanted in "I Want Your Sex." I also had a nickname for the Wham! song "Careless Whisper" -- I used to call it "Ode to My Gay Lover." It's not that I was prejudiced, I was merely precocious. Ask anyone who knows me. Oh wait...
Similarly, my reaction to former teen stars who've recently come out, such as Doogie Howser/Neil Patrick Harris and boyband-er Lance Bass was a big ol' yawn. But secretly, I've always hoped that Justin Timberlake would expose his big gay secret. Of course he hasn't -- and probably never will -- sigh. I've just never really been attracted to J.T. -- even when I learned he was a total stoner. Still, when my girl friend (who coincidentally once hooked up with Lance!) offered me a free ticket to his MSG show last week, how could I resist? I was sufficiently impressed by his performance, but felt a strange sadness for Britney Spears in the midst of it. Personally, I'm convinced she's had a schizophrenic break and needs serious therapy. Is there a branch of psychiatry that specifically deals with celebrity narcissism and neuroses? I think some sheister doctor/guru should start a special clinic.
On a side note, I must admit that I enjoyed all those tabloid stories this past year about Brit making out with her female assistants and strippers and what not. ABC News hit the nail on the head with this sexy article. Marilyn Monroe and Madonna dabbled with dames; I even read somewhere on "the blogs" that Madonna's rejection of Brit Brit after their infamous MTV Awards kiss is what initially caused the former teen popstar's downward spiral. Also, I know for a fact that Christina Aguilera supplements her marriage with a side of pussy...
Cats! They were the animals of the moment at the "Meow Mix Cat Acatemy" on Monday night. Singer Kat DeLuna performed...so clever... while Top Model winner Caridee English, Sopranos star Vincent Pastore aka Big Pussy (teehee!) and E.W.O.R.S. (ex-wife of Rod Stewart) Rachel Hunter swung by the party for some cat 'n mouse games. I was psyched to see the former supermodel stuffing her face with tuna tar tar toasts and mini paninis. See, Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue babes are just like Us!
Finally, the most shockingly weird part of my week -- besides opting to NOT get naked with Mr. Burns the weekend before his wedding (OK, it's been a long-time fantasy of mine to screw up the impending nuptials, but I guess his new eyeglasses turned me off or something) -- was my visit to a walk-in Botox clinic called Smooth Med. I never imagined myself considering Botox injections, but there I was getting a tour of the facility for an upcoming article, and suddenly I found myself wondering, "Could injecting poison into my hips disguise my cellulite?" I'm terrified of going under the knife (or vacuum), and would never consider it for my face, but smoothing out those pesky fatty dimples would be a dream come true. I was too embarrassed to ask, so if any of you kiddies happen to know, feel free to comment below. Gracias.