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October 03, 2005
Cyber Whore
I feel like a total blog whore and it’s not even my fault. I somehow became addicted to celebrity news type blogs because I really love looking at pictures of celebrities. What shoes do they wear? What surgery did they get? Why did they just wet themselves? I don’t know why I’m interested but I just am.
Part of the daily need to look at the shit came from boredom. When J and I were in a long distance relationship, I’d come to visit and I had no car. I just had his entire house and a fast ass wireless connection. When I wasn’t cleaning, organizing or cuddling, I’d scour the Internet for great shoes and then, suddenly I discovered these websites that had all the pictures in the Us Weekly – but for free. And from there, I was hooked.
First of all, I am new to all this blogging business. I don’t even consider myself a blogger. You have to have a nice layout and update all the time and have a site meter and know html and have a digital camera. None of those things apply to me. I still use my VCR.
Now, a couple years ago, I met Spriteboy who does spriteboyworld, and I thought it was entirely insane that I’d meet someone over the Internet by reading what he wrote about me. It was even more insane that I’d meet that person and then really like that person and end up hugged up on his futon on a random Friday night watching The OC and eating beef jerky.
Cut to Fashion Week NYC. I’m at a Mao Fashion PR party with my boyfriend and this hot mother fucker TJ that is friends with Will from Big Brother. I spot this dude Perez Hilton. I’m like, should I say something to him? I mean, I totally recognize his face because I read his blog. Does that make me an asshole?
I saw him see me. And I thought, maybe he knows who I am so it won’t matter if I say hello. We’ll just “kinda” know each other and it won’t be awkward.
So I rolled up on him and I said, “I read your shit mother fucker…” and I smiled, extended my hand and said, “My name is Melissa…” thinking he’d reply back with his real name or whatever.
He said, “I know who you are…” and then it was like we were instantly friends. He is also an instant friend because he properly used the word “serendipitous” and I was swooning.
The next day I told Will and he was like, “Oh yeah, he’s great. I know him. We should all kick it…” and so you know, we should and we will and we have.
Now, last week, I was minding everyone else’s business reading all the celebrity gossip and I go to check my email.
I get an email from a friend named Brad. He’s the editor for Junk Magazine. Google it. A couple years ago, he invited me to be a guest judge at his annual drag ball at his college in Ohio. He’s lovely.
Brad emailed me saying he now lives in New York. Well, so do I! He also said he met Jackee which was almost the best part of the email. Then he said, he had a friend named Trent that would be in town who happened to like me and Brad wondered if we could all meet for drinks.
He goes on to explain who Trent is saying, “He does this really popular blog called Pinkisthenewblog and he’s really cool. Can we meet up?”
I’m paraphrasing but you get the gist.
I wrote back:
Duh. I read that shit every day. Like, every day.
How bizarre is the Internet? Trent said he read my website never knowing that I read his (and loved it). This is a bad movie that will make a lot of money if it’s done right and not starring Cameron Diaz.
Friday night, I watched The OC on Spriteboy's couch and ate up all his rice krispie treats. I also read a bunch of gay magazines and I was like, "That's a lot of butts..."
The next morning, I woke up and drove back to Long Island to prepare for my impromptu gay barbecue.
I had invited Perez, Will and TJ to come by. They all don’t seem at all perturbed by the trek to Long Island which is both admirable and insane. Will couldn’t make it. TJ was doing whatever hot models do. J was looking for rims and Perez’s ass had a hangover from all the free drinks he received the night before. Suddenly, I had no barbeque.
Trent and Brad and I were supposed to meet for drinks in the city on Saturday night. I had planned on driving all the boys back in before I met up with him.
For some reason, I was scared to tell any of the bloggers about each other. For one, I felt like I was cheating on all of them. I mean, none of them even know each other. Why would they care that I read all of them? I felt like maybe I had to have blog loyalty. Like how I have brand loyalty. I will never NOT use Tide. I will never stray from Coca Cola. I just don’t believe in Maruchan as I’m a Nissin ramen girl. And I’m a resourceful mother fucker. I get all the information I can get however I can get it. Whomever is discussing Cocaine Kate is the person I want to log on to. Translation: I’m addicted to wasting my own time.
The blog worlds were colliding. Like, should I say something? How is it that I’m emotionally involved, having actual feelings of guilt. I was Lindsay Lohan going between Paris and Nicole. (Except that Perez and Trent were never childhood friends that suffered a huge falling-out. They also don’t know each other or dislike each other.)
But regardless, you know Nicole does not like that shit. But, it’s like Nicole should just be happy that she’s managed to get out from the shadow and have her own glory while people kinda just don’t really care about Paris anymore. Paris is going to need to do something crazy scandalous to get us interested in her again. And not porn either. I’m talking full-blown lesbian relationship, get photographed with a crack pipe in her mouth or get that surgery on her toes that make them less jinglejanglecallthatbitchbojangled mangled. I’d eat that story up. She has the money. Break those toe bones, file them down, sew them up and keep it moving.
Keep in mind, I’ve spent the past 27 years minding my own business. I don’t know how suddenly, all the bloggers’ stars aligned and I’m now becoming actual friends with virtual people on this particular weekend. I rarely leave my house. I don’t even answer my phone. It just so happened that this weekend was the one weekend where every blogger and his mama wanted a piece of me. Or, I wanted a little piece of them. Let’s just be honest. I’m fascinated by this shit and I don’t know why.
I’d totally recognized Perez Hilton at a party. If I was Trent walking down the street, I’d say PINKISTHENEWBLOG, whoa!
So, after dinner, Trent and Co were like, “We’re going to MisShapes…” I had to bail on that.
I’ve been to MisShapes one time and one time only. The last time I went, J ran into a girl he just fired a day earlier and some random stalker of his band and it was crazy uncomfortable. J hates MisShapes like he hates reality TV. He’s just not feeling that shit.
Let’s not forget the fact that everyone had an asymmetrical haircut, chipped nail polish and actually really really liked to dance to computer beeps. Plus, they're all 17. So not my idea of the best fun ever, but you know, I’m practically a housewife. I’m not a hipster. I literally just got back from Costco where I stocked up on my Clorox Wipes. Another brand I’m loyal to.
Because I hadn’t seen Perez that afternoon, I agreed to just meet him for a drink.
Turns out that fool was sitting in a pizza parlor, enjoying a slice. He was supposed to meet some other friends but they said he took to long to get there so they went home to have sex.
J and Perez and I sat in a pizza parlor for a little while. It was cold out and steamy and hot in the pizza place. We talked and drank coffee and the entire night, I felt guilty. Like I was cheating on Trent and Spriteboy.
Finally, I just had to spill the beans!
I told every party of my intermingling ways and sure enough, none of them care.
I'm stupid I guess.
But whatever, I got love for all them hoes. How exactly do you spell the plural form of ho, actually? It can’t possibly be with an apostrophe.
Anyway, my point is read all their blogs. I do.
P.S. In the picture on Trent’s site, that’s Trent, me and our friend Brad. Not J or Justin, now that his full name has been revealed.
Posted by melissah at October 3, 2005 03:38 PM