|Sunday, February 24th, 2008|
5:09a - Spirit Awards and Poop (name droppings)
I never thought that ever I would be mid-hug with someone as they whisper in my ear "Hi, I love your work. I'm Dustin Hoffman."
And I said the only thing you can say back to that "Oh really? I love your work too."
Holy Cow. Dustin Hoffman.
And Dennis Quaid played my guitar.
I met Lisa Kudrow and Josh Hartnett and David Allen Grier and a bunch of other people.
I met Ricki Lake and talked to her about birth!
I got hugged by Steve Buscemi, John Waters, and Jason Bateman (again). My interaction with Bateman was a little less awkward than last time. Thankfully.
I guess it is better to meet in the schwag room than at the after party.
When me, Matty, and Paul sat down to play I looked up and saw Brad and Angelina sitting there and closed my eyes and didn't open them until we were leaving the stage.
I knew The Rock was there. If I had looked into the crowd and saw his big beautiful smile watching me play I would have collapsed off of my chair. So I couldn't even look.
As we walked off the stage Matt Mutherfucking Dillon was standing backstage and we exchanged uncomfortable glances and I choked and just shot him an uncomfortable smile. Matt Dillon.
Over The Edge, The Outsiders, Drugstore Cowboy, Rumble Fish, LITTLE DARLINGS, MY BODYGUARD.
I couldn't even say HI.
Oh man. Zoinks.
Alright, so here is my verdict. Actors and Actresses are mostly just like most musicians. People who do what they do and sometimes them doing it makes them have a really recognizable face.
But mostly they just want to do what they love. And mostly they are nice.
But of course there are going to be some jerks just like there are always SOME jerks in every category of animal. There are some nice teacher and some jerky teachers, some nice people working at the post office and some jerky ones, some nice gorillas...and so on.
And in real life they all seem a lot more real and a lot more human than in fake life...like in the magazines and on the screens. And they aren't all midgets. I was surprised.
As much as I am freaked out by the biz, I think everyone who knows me knows I am a big fan of teevee (shows not commercials and the mega-networks) and movies. So to be around and meet all these awesome weirdos who have impressed me over the years was really cool and fun.
One thing that was fucking stupid crazy was the aforementioned schwag room.
I had heard the rumor that, while poor people don't even get health care and food and shelter, famous people get tons of free shit.
And holy crud it is true.
And it is mind boggling.
Me and Matty and Paul aren't "famous" but we were VIP yesterday, and we got to play the game.
We got chocolate, and foot cream, and body wash, and body spray, cell phones, and sunglasses, and espresso makers, and i-pod docks, and rhinestone flip flops, and free netflix accounts, and free acupuncture gift certificates, and 2 free nights at some fancy bed and breakfast, and free movie passes, and the boys got some swimming trunks, and I got an oversized lady bag. We turned down the perfume, the beer dispenser, and the python purses. It was so weird. I don't really understand it. I guess these companies hope someone will leave their product out on the table while Cribs is being filmed at their house or something. And everyone will be like..."OOOH, Marissa Tomei has a desktop beer machine- I want a desktop beer machine". My dad is gonna love his new coffee maker and the 1 year supply of free decaf. But I wish the free shit was being given to people who need shit, rather than people who have tons of shit already.
What a strange world.
But it was a fun experience to add to my already long list of fun experiences.
After we hauled our loads out to the minivan Ange and Panda met us in the parking lot, and the boys went to the after party.
Me and Panda climbed into the minivan and I changed my clothes. Out of my gown (made by Paperdoll Fashion) and back into the clothes I wear everyday. It felt so good to just cuddle and nurse my baby and look out the window at the beach.
Today, at 3, we are playing at the Rhino Records shop in Claremont. That should be fun. We get to hang out with the famous Callaci Bros. And Matty and Paul are going to play too this time. Not just with me, but some of their songs too.
Amoeba was fricken psycho the other night. Wow. Thanks everyone who got in and everyone who tried to get in. There were so many nice kids there. And one thing I love about LA is that it is so colorful. There are always more brown skinned purple haired punks in this town than anywhere else. I love everyone, but it always feels good when the crowds are super diverse.
And my cousins Christopher and Nia were there and they never met each other before. So that was cool. And Zack Wolk brought us food AGAIN (amazingly kind soul). And my old friend Myste (who I wrote I Will Never Forget for) was there. And my old friend Andy Milonakis was there. I have known him longer than I have known anyone else who lives in California. Bedford Hills represent. I sure like that kid. Always have.
Now, I am in the hotel. And I can't sleep. We all have pretty bad colds. Stupid airplanes always make us sick.
I am glad the next trip we are driving everywhere. In our own car.
I am starting to worry that our perpetual illness probably has something to do with me hugging hundreds of people everyday too. If you feel even remotely sick please don't hug me. It's going to be a long tour...we need to be strong...
It's not the first time I have asked for well wishes to be sent to our sinuses.
And it won't be the last.
I should go back to bed. I don't even know what this post is about.
Paul took pictures yesterday. I'll post some tomorrow.
ps. I pooped 4 times yesterday morning, because I was nervous. But who's counting?
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