« Wear Your Roller Skates Today | Main | Ugliest Face Ever »
June 29, 2005
Bravo!
Well, I just got home from LA a bit ago.
I was there shooting a reality TV show with a bunch of reality TV people for Bravo. You like that? Totally not cryptic about it. I have amazing stories, including ones about Omarosa’s signature scent (the bitch smells like an old Victorian costume) but you’ll have to wait for me to recap the show over the summer.
I do, however, have a really fun Omarosa story that has nothing to do with the show. I guess her signature scent doesn’t have anything to do with the actual show either, but I must save that one for delivery purposes. She, by the way, calls it her signature scent. Not me.
So, in a dressing room far far away, Coral is having her make up done beside Omarosa. I was not there as I was itching to get back to my suburban life of Google and peanut butter saltines during Oprah (I’m still trippin’ about Hermes).
Omarosa tells Coral that she is working on some public appearance stuff pertaining to all the top black reality stars and would like to know if she’s down. Coral smiles and says, “Of course. Melissa and I would love to hear more about it.” You see, when you’re best friends with someone, it’s automatic that you bring her up if the conversation merits a topic of like interest. For example, if someone said, “Melissa, would you like a free trip to Ipanema?” my response would be, “Coral and I love Brasil and we’re always looking for reasons to keep going. Tell me more!” and so it goes like this.
Omarosa, always on top of her homework as witnessed by her regal appearance on The Apprentice, says to Coral, “Ooh, Melissa. You know, I looked her up and it doesn’t appear that she has a fan base…”
Coral is amused? Confused? Taken aback? Well, it could be all things because as she is telling me this over the phone, we’re both open-mouthed and quiet but for tons of reasons. And not because we’re offended. We’re just trying to figure out where to go next in the conversation. The hilarity has ensued. I mean, there are many hysterical layers here.
OMAROSA is talking to CORAL about MY fan base. For one, how absurd is it that any reality person discusses another reality person’s fan base? Maybe that’s normal in INSANE REALITY PERSON WORLD but in my world, I don’t think I’ve ever used the words “fan base” and I surely don’t measure my life in terms of how many “fans” I have. I’m the girl off the Real World before the Real World became easily confused with Elimidate. You know, from the Real World a long time ago i.e. I could very well be in Wichita Falls breastfeeding twins in obscurity and no one would care. That’s who I am, lady.
Fan base?
It’d be one thing to wonder who I am if she had never seen The Real World five years ago. It’d be one thing to just outright say, “She’s not ‘famous’ enough…” because that would be relatively useful in this instance. But it’s taking it to a whole new level when she’s Google’d me and come up with absolutely nothing therefore rendering me “fan-less”. What’s that like? Is it like this:
Omarosa, biggest and brightest star of television’s top-rated The Apprentice, slinks into her bathrobe after a long day of shooting HER television show and wonders to herself, “Who is this Melissa from The Real World…” She saunters, in her clear Lucite heels two sizes too small, to her sleek pink Mac, a gift from Mr. Trump himself upon her ousting and performs a search. After several minutes and two more applications of matte burgundy lipstick from the tube, she is bewildered that this Melissa character could be cast on the same show as she and not be famous at all. The horror! Confused, she concludes that Melissa from the Real World New Orleans has no fan base and now she must break the news to Melissa’s best super famous (and black) friend Coral and see how she reacts…
Now since all three of us have been deemed “racially focused” on our respective shows because you know, we’re black and where else could you go with that, you would think that Omarosa would use this conversation as a base to question my blackness, all half of it, which would be so much more entertaining, funny. As it is though, it’s entirely bizarre that that’s not the focus here.
Coral not wanting to rouse the beast takes a moment. Squinting with a side long glance, both in defense of her fucking homie (that’s me) and partially to address this inappropriate and weird announcement made TO HER that HER best friend is a nobody because there’s that and it’s weird and hard to explain but it exists in this tiny random reality bubble, Coral says –
“Melissa? Um, well she’s Maxim Hot 100 and she’s been on this show for Oxygen for like years that everybody seems to really love because they syndicated it and everybody I know knows exactly who she is but um, yeah, whatever I don’t understand what you’re saying…”
And then Omarosa goes, wait…
Come to think of it, I didn’t get to hear how the conversation ended because we were too busy counting all the hilarious layers that we forgot to get back to the story. But anyway, that’s a good one in a weird self-absorbed, had-to-be-there, deep inside reality TV type of way.
I don’t know why they just don’t film reality people interacting with reality people. No, not like Surreal Life where there’s a talent show and the show’s about each person’s reality show caricature or his demise as a formerly well-known B list celebrity. Not like that. No games. No vote-offs. No talent shows. No premise. No prize. No bungee cords. Just plain interaction, like they have to get their own beer and bring their own stuff and just live in a world where they bounce checks and chain smoke. Your fucking head would explode at the insanity, the incestuous bubble and the neverending stream of basically FUCKING awesome gossipy stories.
I mean, I kicked it with Tina Fabulous. She entrusted me with the job of making sure her lipgloss application was perfect (and it always is). I’ve examined the seams of Brittany Next Top Model’s dress with Wendy You're Gonna Need Your Soul One Day Pepper. Duncan Nutter is my friend and we’re supposed to go have dim sum together in Queens okay. I invite all his kids to go swimming in the pool here, okay. This is the shit. I’ve seen Ryan Starr reading the bible hillside. I know all the latest hair removal secrets from Dr. Will Kirby Big Brother man. Sue Hawk has really awesome teeth and I’ve seen them close up. And she never had braces. You see the things I know!
So yeah, as the show airs I’ll have a new blog (hopefully) to tell you all the real non-game related funny shit that happens poolside and in caravans and in drinking sessions. The best part of it all is that I was there but in super keen observation mode and so not partying so my recollections are as clear as Omarosa’s stripper heels. My boyfriend’s business partner is building this blog for me as we speak. He’s computery and into it and I don’t have the technology or the patience. It will be way cleaner. And more frequent because I’m a housewife like that.
Until then, I’ll be looking for some fans with my tragic self and avoiding all celebrity gossip as I cannot stand Tom Cruise.
Posted by melissah at June 29, 2005 02:00 PM