<$Jessica Helton, Jessica Helton blog, jess helton blog, blog, adventures and ramblings, adventure blog, ramblings, mozart, perez hilton, tmz, los angeles blog, los angeles stories, stories from la, city stories, funny stories, funny blog$>

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Ideas on becoming a celebrity acquaintance.

Quite a few of my all-time favorite celebrities live right near me. Almostthisclose. You never know when and where you may come across one, and each place I go I cross my fingers that I will run into one of them, be it at the corner cafe, the gas station, or in the cereal aisle at Whole Foods. I secretly hope that our shopping carts collide as we are turning a corner, and provided no one is hurt in the incident, this will break the ice and start some sort of conversation. Or maybe I'll get whiplash in the shopping cart crash and have to take down their insurance information and of course, their phone number and email address.

The other day I somehow managed to randomly "stumble" across one of my all-time favorite musician's home address. (In absolutely no way was this accomplished by in depth google searches.) I would prefer to keep this celebrity's name anonymous, for his privacy and because I'm 77% sure that he is reading this. Shout out to John. (Ok fine, you get a few hints. Hint #1 is that his first name is John. Hint #2 is that his last name is a word that means "The Official Head of a City". But that's all you're getting out of me. Riddles are kind of fun, huh?)

So now I have John's home address and I was just doing a little brainstorming. How do I put this information to use? I'd hate to let it go to waste! I suppose I could do some research and find out his trash day. Then I could bring Mozie on a walk through his neighborhood and just randomly come across him taking in his trash cans. We would strike up a conversation on the sidewalk and quickly hit it off. I would offer to help him bring his recycle bin to his backyard (the only manual labor I’ve ever volunteered for), and he would take me up on it. He would then invite me in to his house for a glass of wine in return for my hard work and by the end of the evening we will have written a duet together (me on piano and him on guitar), started planning out our world tour and decided upon our future children's middle names.

Maybe a better plan is to disguise myself as a door-to-door saleswoman, but unless you count that one time I tried to make my own Potpourri when I was a kid (I picked all the beautiful fresh roses off of my mom's plant, which she was beyond thrilled about, and then put them in a plastic bag, drenched the petals with a can of sweet smelling bathroom spray, and attempted to sell them door to door), I was usually the girl who wasn't encouraged to bother the neighbors with fundraisers or girl scout cookies. Speaking of girl scouts, I could instead disguise myself as a scout selling cookies at John's door. I don't want to brag, but I can still recall the Girl Scout pledge and recite it perfectly (I just tested myself again to make sure), and my uniform is probably still around, even if it is currently a nest for spiders in some keepsake box in my parent's garage. I'm sure if I stop eating for a month (ok, 6 months!), wrap myself in masking tape, and hold my breath, I can squeeze back into that uniform somehow and become a semi-believable scout. Too bad girl scout uniforms aren't made of Spandex.

Or better yet, I could act like a new neighbor and bring John a friendly platter of baked goods. But with my luck he would ask me my address or what house I live in and I would probably crack under pressure, blow my cover, confess everything, and nervously ramble on in front of him, all the while forgetting to take a breath...

"Hi John. Can I call you Johnny? Well Johnny, the truth is I don't really live here or anywhere on your street but I live close by and was just driving with a plate of fresh baked cookies on my passenger seat when I remembered that you lived here and I had read somewhere that you liked cookies, or maybe I saw a picture of you eating a cookie, but that's beside the point, who doesn't like cookies? Anyway, I wanted to drop off these cookies and also wanted to see your sweet face up close and maybe become friends with you, but I think I've already said too much and I'm usually a good listener and I realize I'm not giving you a chance to speak so never mind, a forced friendship could be a little awkward because you don't know anything about me and I don't know anything about you, except for everything I read in the tabloids, but who's to say if the stories are true. Are the stories true? How's Jen? Don't answer that, I am just going to leave now, that is, unless you want me to stay but that probably sounds like I'm inviting myself over. Wow, you are very quiet. Are you feeling alright? So, what do you think the odds are that we could give this friendship thing a shot? If you're not ready to answer, then that's cool. We can take this slow. Let's be acquaintances. I'm a good acquaintance and I can already tell it's one of your strengths as well. Can we take a few pictures on my camera so that I have proof of our budding friendship? Can we make the pictures look candid and fun and take them from different angles and then I'll post them on MySpace and Facebook? I could even email the pictures to you so you could post a few on your website too? Is that another 'No'? Ok, well I'll let you go. Don't feel bad at all that you're not in a chatty mood, we can definitely catch up another time. Maybe we'll run into each other again very soon...which reminds me, when is your trash day?"