Just the FACT that she HAS a publicist. Clearly she's asking for it.

For publicity? Um, yeah.

Morning!

Breakfasted on banana bread eggo waffles, coffee, orange juice, yogurt, and cantaloupe. Now hanging out in my robe for a bit before getting dressed and running off to WeHo for a facial.

I really really really need to do my taxes today, something I DREAD.

I'm terrified of making a mistake and having some Bush Administration lackey knock at my door and waterboard me for forgetting to put the right digit in the right column.

Speaking of paranoia, I started to actually get nervous about call monitoring due to calls from the middle east when Nilly stayed with me. I swear, I had a total pang of fear. How fucked up is that? Not rational, yet still pangy.

You can work in LA without doing the whole "scene". Without hiring a publicist. Without having press releases every time you burp.

Send an assistant to buy the tampons if you've been in the paper enough that week (and if you haven't, buy them yourself).

Hmm. I think there's some conflicting expectations here. Famous (and/or rich) enough to hire an assistant to buy your tampons, but not famous enough to need a publicist? I could be wrong about this because it's so NOT my lifestyle, but I tend to assume that publicists, stylists, etc, they aren't just for the divas, they really do help actors and actresses manage their careers.

I don't know if it's helpful, but my experience with publicists tends to be battle. I just need something signed for a charity auction, or need to let them know that no, it's not appropriate that the celebrity bring 10 guests to drink away the donation at my bar.

I had an incident once where a publicist insisted that I just didn't know how things work.

I explained to the publicist that I was aware that the executive producer's pet charity was benefitting, and since he and his wife were coming, and he is the celebrity's boss, that I did in fact understand how things were going to work for me.

Argument over.

Which has nothing to do with the conversation at hand, it just always makes me feel badass to tell the story.

Eh. Probably shouldn't.

That's actually kind of interesting and helpful, Allyson (plus badass). It reminds me of something I heard on NPR the other day. A screenwriter was saying that publicists, agents, etc, they are the pit bulls that handle all the nasty stuff about contract negotiation, etc, so that the talent can, to some degree, rise above it and act like gentlemen while their pit bulls battle it out.

A screenwriter was saying that publicists, agents, etc, they are the pit bulls that handle all the nasty stuff about contract negotiation, etc, so that the talent can, to some degree, rise above it and act like gentlemen while their pit bulls battle it out.

Yeah - that's always been my impression.

I'm very uncomfortable with some of the photos of celebs I've seen - the ones where they're just stepping out of their house or ducking into Peet's. I know they've chosen to/are lucky enough to live a life in the public eye, but I think it shows a certain lack of respect for their essential humanity to stake them out and record their every moment. It's like people want to put them on a pedestal and tear them down at the same time. V. disturbing.

Hmm. I think there's some conflicting expectations here. Famous (and/or rich) enough to hire an assistant to buy your tampons, but not famous enough to need a publicist? I could be wrong about this because it's so NOT my lifestyle, but I tend to assume that publicists, stylists, etc, they aren't just for the divas, they really do help actors and actresses manage their careers.

That's my point. If paparzzi is tampon-stalking you its because you have an effective publicist (who is keeping you in the public eye in order to promote your career). You can afford an assistant.

And, Allyson, that story is badass and should be told whenever possible.

I'm very uncomfortable with some of the photos of celebs I've seen - the ones where they're just stepping out of their house or ducking into Peet's.

It's rude as hell. I don't like it and don't buy those magazines. Other than someone in, say, a political scandal though it doesn't just "happen" along with your career.

In the course of establishing yourself you hire a publicist. They get you invited to the right parties, they get you photographed with the right people, they get you gifts of the 'right' designer duds, they give or leak your schedule to the press, they make you a commodity and your photographs valuable. To then claim, "alright, I only want to be fascinating to you only when *I* want to be fascinating to you" is disingenuous. (Or a further garnering of publicity).

Since Hollywood's business model is currently built on fame -- above-the-title names, or titles that are themselves franchises -- then it's not altogether a surprise that fame is part of the business model of anybody trying to work in Hollywood.

Still, everybody's got a saturation point, and I bet a lot of people don't know it till they've crossed it. It's like eating chocolate pudding: suddenly you put down the spoon and go Oog.

I think it shows a certain lack of respect for their essential humanity to stake them out and record their every moment.

What continues to amaze me is the fact that it never seems to get boring. Individuals can become boring -- invisibly, so that they're not pronounced "over" but just quietly fall off the front pages -- but the churning industry of endless photographs of people talking on cell phones and walking dogs and trying not to spill coffee while crossing the street: boring!

It's as if every Star Magazine buyer is a little old lady on the stoop, watching the neighborhood like a queen her domain, but instead of the neighborhood being a city block, it's hundreds of people a thousand miles away that she'll never actually meet.

I don't know whether relentless buttinskyism, as a commercial enterprise, is more or less depraved than amateur buttinskyism, but at any rate buttinskyism is not a new concept.