Is fashionably-late not a common party procedure at the Jersey Shore? Or does the Situation always show up to events five hours before they begin? As the Grammy’s staff hauled-ass to set up the infamous crimson brick road of musical dreams, the Situation wandered around aimlessly in his eye-catching bedazzled Ed Hardy hoodie and XXL sweatpants. “Ugh, are you here to set up? You Got Served 2 is actually filming in the other lot?” What a camera stage 5 clinger! It’s truly shameful how intrigued I am by him though. I love him the same way I love those self-taken Facebook pictures. You know the deal, when someone snaps their picture in the mirror but looks the other way like, “Oh, I didn’t know I was being photographed?” Really, the fluorescent flash ricocheting from your mirrored reflection or the fact that your own index finger is in complete control of the capture button, didn’t at least tip you off that your picture was about to be taken? If I’m supposed to buy that you might as well say Heidi Klum and Marissa Miller actually model for Lane Bryant. It’s the same type of blatant lie! I know that I’ve only given myself 60 days to get my butt into NFL cheerleader shape, but after standing next to those two goddesses on last night’s red carpet, I couldn’t be more motivated! Normally this is when I’d give myself the ultimate Shan Francisco denial pep talk. “Perfect is always possible with PhotoShop.” Yet, I proudly say that I couldn’t have been more wrong…there’s no ounce of airbrushed perfection when it we’re dealing with those two ladies. I would gladly forgo one night with George Clooney if it meant I could look like that at some point in my life. But then again, if I were Heidi Klum or Marissa Miller the choice to forgo George Clooney is as likely as Spencer Pratt shaving his nasty blonde chin-hairs. Let’s face it, from here on out I’m keeping a sleeping bag and toothbrush in my gym locker.
As if I haven’t been there enough this past week. Shoot, at this rate I should think about trying out for the Real Housewives of Orange County. Those ladies poor kids have no idea that K through 6 isn’t held at 24-hour and recess doesn’t involve elliptical machines. Although I should probably watch what I say considering I’m childless now; but one day I might actually become that mom benching 180 with such a stellar boob job I can do the 3 Stooges eye-poke using just my chest. Wouldn’t that be great for birthday parties? Oh, the talent that $10,000 can buy. All kidding aside, I had to remind myself today that 60 minutes on the stair-stepper is more than enough. This can’t possibly be what Heidi does every day? Ahh, but even if it is I’m clearly getting ahead of myself. Let’s be real, I’ve got a lot more than pretend steps of air standing in between my future twin, Mrs. Seal and I. For starters, taking off these cheetah pajama pants that I so cleverly turned into Shan Francisco shants and my favorite over-sized In-N-Out T-shirt would help. Over-sized really doesn’t even begin to explain it. I accidentally caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror…did Starr Jones have a garage sale? More importantly why am I wearing hamburger paraphernalia, is that really necessary?
Since we’re talking about my half-a-side-of-beef cravings, my girls and I were starving by the time our Grammy escapade ended and decided to grab a bite to eat at the ever-so-yummy Yard House. I’m gonna put it out there, soy beans and soup is not as appetizing as you think when you’re being cornered by mouth-watering burgers, savory fries and rich/creamy/cheesy spinach dip. I warned my friends that on this given night each trip taken to the restroom is without-a-doubt risky. Buyer beware, I make no promises about the safety of your plate. I don’t why Lo was so mad when half of her turkey avocado sandwich was missing? She knew what was on the line… I can’t help it if she doesn’t listen. Oh well, I think she bought my bit about the turkey recall sweeping across California. The news just broke! I had our waiter take it away immediately. For all she’s concerned I saved her life right? Some call it selfish but I like to think of it as considerate. I know this to be true because of how great of an older sister I am. I genuinely thought my little sister was going to faint and or pee her pants as fabulous Adam Lambert strutted toward us as he made his way to the Grammy’s entrance. She stood there in stone cold silence, I thought, “wow I think she’s in love.” I didn’t see the need to remind her that even Lil Kim couldn’t snag him with her magic stick. Why crush such an adolescent dream? So being the guiding light that I am, I did the next best thing. I leaned over to refresh Adam’s memory about the bonding experience we had at a Los Shangeles night club about a month ago. I figured it’d break the ice. Who knows if he actually remembered me (5’5, blonde hair and green eyes isn’t exactly rare in this town) but he still smiled as I attempted to charm him.
It was completely inappropriate for someone in my position to do but what can I say, family comes first. I let him know that my kid sister adored him and had her bedroom walls covered in his pictures. Thinking about it now that could have either sounded cute or semi-pornographic. Maybe I should have said my kid brother? In any event, he was so gracious and agreed to an autograph for her. Now, desperate times call for desperate measures and during an event like this you’ve really only got a few seconds to get what you want. Seriously, no more and no less; so I reached for the only form of paper I had--an emergency tampon hiding in the pocket of my jacket. What? Paper is paper, and more importantly it’s Adam Lambert! Not doing so would be like meeting Madonna for the first time and not having your cone bra on as back-up. Contrary to popular belief, Hollywood is a very accepting town. Oh to see her eyes light up as I handed her the freshly branded tampon. It was so worth it. I’d have him sign an entire box full just to see that look on her face again; partially because she was so happy but mostly because I find her obsession just hysterical. By the way, in case you were wondering my “kid sister” that I speak about is actually 23 years old. So before you go on thinking I’m the crazy girl in the Shan Fran family, just stop and think about the fact that she has a signed Adam Lambert tampon. Enough said. I mean, it’s the Grammy’s anything goes. For Christ sake, did you see Lady Gaga’s getup? I’m still trying to figure out how she actually made E!’s Best Dressed List in that solar system of a dress. Or why the words “Hi Kid Cutie, I’m Shan Francisco and I’ll be taking you down the carpet.” Bless his heart and his girlfriend for going along with it. It wasn’t until the end when we parted ways that she told me to shout them a holler next time I’m in New York so she and her beau, Kid Cudi (ehh-um NOT Kid Cutie) would show me around. Damn, there goes my future in the rap biz ;)
So all-in-all, Day 3 and 4 were loads of fun. I have to say it’s much easier to forget about how sore my legs are, the nutritional Mojave Desert currently stretching from my esophagus to my intestines, and the new found side-drool sleeping habit that I’ve picked up from images of dancing donuts in my dreams, when the Grammy’s are in town. To cap it all off, Béyonce’s performance that night reminded me of how lucky I am to be a young, beautiful and powerful woman. She proves my theory that through hard work and practice everything gets better with time. Not to mention, only Béyonce could sing about becoming a boy and still make men swoon, to all of a sudden switch it up and cover Alanis Morissette’s angry love song about Full House’s Uncle Joey and not look crazy. You go girl! I can’t wait to channel my inner Béyonce on March 28th!!!
Till tomorrow…
Kisses!
Shan Francisco
No comments:
Post a Comment