I'm no autograph seeker or even a fan with typically more than a passing interest in meeting an artist after a concert or a play. And if I saw someone famous out to dinner, I'd be among the last people to interrupt to say hello. (With a few exceptions. I would bother John Cusack, probably. Definitely.)
But when I saw Rebel Wilson for the second time in the hallway outside all of the pre-parties at the White House Correspondents' Dinner the other night, I took it as a sign. I saw her twice! She looked so friendly! I leave Pitch Perfect on as background noise when I'm working sometimes, and she is the main, talented, hilarious reason.
I really admire funny women. I had all kinds of reasons to do this, I figured.
Here we are. So that happened.
I think I also babbled at her about how I was sure lots of BlogHer readers appreciated her work, and I was psyched to be there covering the event for the site, and she just kept smiling fabulously.
Perks of fame aside, the constant listening to people like me can't be easy, and Rebel was very gracious. Plus my mom is pretty convinced that we're best friends now, so there's that weird perk.
We've already shared some of President Obama's best lines at the so-called Nerd Prom, and there were plenty in this lame-duck, used-to-the-media-so-much-by-now year. I watched the main event from one of the bar seating areas in the Washington Hilton, watching an unusually high number of Facebook and Instagram likes and Twitter mentions roll in for a blurry shot of Patrick Stewart's head.
It was a substandard photo of the back of a man's head, and the people went a little nuts. So, bottom line: if my social community is any indication, Patrick Stewart has to do nothing else but stand there for the rest of his life, and people will be thrilled and squee about his bald head. Take it easy, Patrick. Just hang out. Relax. You're good.
Connie Britton was another effortless crowd pleaser.
Also, oh hey, Katy Perry.
And Jon Bon Jovi, and Fred Armisen, and Newt Gingrich, and Artie from Glee, and Nicole Kidman, and the back of Amy Poehler's head.
Also? There have been few more terrifying things in my experience than being in the wake of a crowd of previously silent Star Wars (I'm guessing) fans when George Lucas exits the building. Because those dudes MOVE. Good thing I can move quickly in heels..
By the time I found a seat in the lounge to check out what pictures I actually had, and a drunk lawyer screamed joyfully in my face that JUSTICE SCALIA WAS ACTUALLY FUNNY and BON JOVI WAS SOOOOO NICE while simultaneously trying to show me his picture with both of them as he sent it to his wife, I felt drunk on the DC/Hollywood mashup, and not in a bad way, can't lie. It's not a combined scene that I can admittedly fully grasp, even as a trained journalist who writes about pop culture a fair amount of the time.
But I appreciated President Obama's well-deserved shoutout to the Boston Globe for their still-fresh, raw, heart- and truth-driven coverage of the Boston Marathon bonbings, and Conan's hometown reflections of same. As a person who opted not to go into the challenging world of daily news reporting, I know what journalists who choose that path are called upon to do, and what the really good ones accomplish. (They'd strike my 'really' back there before I went back and did it, I know that much.)
As for a digital commentator and blogger with my own particular beat? A night I got to wrap up sitting in a room of other geeks and reporters on laptops laughing uncomfortably at the president and Conan O'Brien and call it work? It was really fun.
(And to fact-check Conan on the "bloggers are the goths," bit? Nah. No way. Not that I'd mind that as a fun characterization here and there, but across the board, nah.)
Yeah, I'm pretty sure Rebel and I really are bffs now.
Laurie lives online at LaurieMedia.
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