A Classy New Year's Eve Disaster

The holidays have come to an end, and like many past New Years, once again, I blacked out. I'm not proud to admit this and honestly I might need to work on this frequent occurrence; however, the beginning of 2012 will be semi-remembered as the year I woke up to find a random pipe in my clutch.

The night started off wonderful and like many other nights do. We all gathered in our glittery, svelte wardrobes with hats, horns, and heels. I made a drink like mature, grown-ups do, half vodka- half energy drink. As I was mixing my adult beverage someone yelled, "Who wants a shot!?" I see how this night is going to be. Apparently I'm a sucker for vodka shots or just extremely terrible with peer pressure because the rest of the night's actions could be explained because of this very 'pressure'.

We headed to the club in Hollywood where we had bought $60 tickets for entry and an open bar. I won't name the club for protection that someone reading this might've seen us at this same club. We were probably 10th in line to enter. Two of us in the group decided to reverse climb through a vineyard, over a ledge to the 'smoker area' of the club in order to surpass the dreadful six minute wait. The rest of us entered the small and crowded club to find a Trojan army in our way for the open bar. We were able to make it through rather quickly, much like the Greeks: largely over-stated and deceivingly pretty. After ordering our drinks and back up drinks things started to get a bit fuzzy. As you can see my night was short-lived, I was now just another Trojan. After some much needed dancing on ledges and meeting a few 'new friends' the night was coming to an end. The clock struck twelve o' clock, we had our midnight kisses. I'm 98% sure mine was with my boyfriend.

After we wondered around the club for a couple more hours, we must've all accidentally ended up in the same spot in the club and decided, "Well, this is a better time to go than any." Not to mention, I think a fight was a brewin'. Literally. Side note: It's not a TRUE New Year's Eve unless one of three things happen: 1) You regret/forget the evening 2) The clock strikes midnight and you are in a car, gas station or bathroom. 3) You fight with one of your girlfriends. Luckily, we were way ahead of these rules. As we were leaving the club, I noticed a large group of people being pushed. It was a brawl!! My excitement was halted when I realized it was two of my friends that were involved. Oh wait, it was between my two friends. HOT MESS! After another one of us started a verbal fight with someone 'mean mugging' them the entire night we got in our separate cabs and headed toward the valley, where tonight, we belonged.

Back at Valley Headquarters, I remember the scene quite vividly. The elevator ride up to the apartment consisted of one cab fighting over who didn't pay, again, while the other cab complained about how the fighting needed to stop and also, it was true about the 'non-payers'. The two 'brawlers' were still going at it in the kitchen and then headed upstairs, which all could be heard throughout the complex. Another one of us was passed out on the couch, while you could find one dress sitting on the wooden floor in the middle of the kitchen eating pita chips and pringles. This whole time I could observe these things but I still have no clue what I was actually doing. Was I on the floor joining in the pita chip take down? Was I spooning the girl passed out? I know I didn't walk 2 miles home at 3 a.m. with the other member of the group.

The next morning, I woke up in pajamas and all my belongings were next to me. SUCCESS! I looked in another room to find the 'brawlers' sleeping in the same bed. SUCCESS? I headed home to pass out until 5:00 in the evening. Fail. Later that evening, I was digging through my clutch to find any extra cash I may've forgot to spend at the club, instead I found a pipe in my purse. I don't know how this got there, I don't know who put it there, and I know I didn't use it. Of course, my sister's guess about what I was doing while all the girls were fighting, eating, and sleeping, "You were probably off smoking pot somewhere."

So, all in all, I'd say the New Year's Eve night was a total disaster, but one that makes it much more interesting to tell and really tightens our bond as friends. ;) Cheers to more New Year's as classy as this one!! Love you all.

MG's Birthday/New Year's Eve 2012

My Three Christmas Wishes

Whether it's the decorated Christmas trees, the ugly sweater parties, the spiked anything, the obligation of gift giving to people you wouldn't normally give a gift to but "they probably got you one",  the odd gifts, the 25 days of Christmas on ABC Family, or the Christmas music; all of these things make the month of December the most wonderful time of the year.


Ugly Sweater Parties



The Spiked Anything

The Unusual Gifts

As I get older, I am realizing the true meaning of Christmas and it's not how many presents you get but rather the quality of those presents. I decided to take this realization seriously and put only two "quality" items on my Christmas list to my dad: a professional camera and a Fossil watch. I emailed the list labeled, "my mature list". The following day I received an email with 'Camera' in the subject line and a link to the camera. I guess when you're older you don't need the surprise part, merely the feeling of giving and receiving. As I read my dad's email, it described the camera's features, the great deal I would be getting and that if I'm currently in the position to purchase it, this would be the camera to go for. Love, Dad.  I revised my current list of two items to include slippers, ipod case and three more links to clothes I wanted online then re-sent to my dad.

Honestly though, I'm no longer concerned with the materialistic things....over Christmas. Now that I'm living in California I've learned that being with my family and friends is all I need. That and my three Christmas wishes granted:

Wish #1: To walk into my mother's home to find one Christmas tree standing in the living room.

Two Christmas' ago, my sister tried to help my mom get a "headstart" on getting a Christmas tree for the house. (My mom is always wrapping presents ten minutes before we open them, seems pointless.) My sister, Alicia, even hauled it in to the living room as a surprise. But, according to my mom, Alicia's tree was "a dud" but she didn't want to hurt her feelings by getting rid of it. I told her, Alicia wasn't too sensitive about her tree giving and to just get a new one that wasn't dropping 8,000 needles a day. A few days later, a friend and I walked into the house to find two extremely large Pine trees standing in the living room. I could only hear a small voice coming from over by the fireplace. "Hello!" We made our way through the living room forest to find my mom sitting in her normal spot on the fireplace drinkin' a beer, watching Wheel of Fortune with her two Christmas trees. Her words, "I'll figure it out".


My mom in front of one of many XMAS trees in her life.

 Wish #2: To always have an unlimited supply of alcohol on hand during snow storms.

Alicia and I should've had some clue this particular Christmas wouldn't be the smoothest of Christmas' when we found ourselves climbing through 5 ft. snow drifts to get to the front door of my dad's house. After being snowed-in with my family for two full days, we realized we could easily ration the food we had, we could improvise with wearing clean clothes, but running out of alcohol was unacceptable. We asked the next door neighbor to bring out his JOHN DEER tractor (full size) and shovel/plow our driveway. Mr. John Deer, himself, got stuck. Next step was to pull out the tire chains, which  apparently we had.

Wish #3: Find only bows attached to the tops of my presents.

Last Christmas my mother taped a small knife to the top of my present. She thought it would be "handy". What do you say to this? Thank you...?



Happy Holidays!

A Halloween "Whore" Night

Halloween. The holiday that allows people to dress up like someone they are not (if they are not already doing this on a regular basis). It is the holiday that allows people to get away with wearing little to no clothing and say, "I'm not a whore, it's Halloween". Who cares if  the temperature is below zero; this is the one weekend we can go out in a bra and underwear and not be questioned, except by homeless people but they always have questions. Regardless of the slutty costumes, Halloween still doesn't make sense to me. I can't understand why people enjoy gathering in public places and intentionally getting the crap scared out of them? Personally, I think it sounds terrible. The thought of being chased by people I know scares me to death so you can imagine how I feel when I'm being chased by people I don't know wearing masks and carrying chainsaws. However, this weekend I decided to put my preconceived notions about Halloween aside and I put my friends before fright.

We went to Universal's Halloween Horror Night where I experienced more terrifying clowns, haunted houses, blood and gore, and screams than I ever have in my 25 Halloweens. Probably because I have only been to one Haunted House in Lincoln, NE which I've pretty much blocked out of my life. As we entered Universal, we were greeted by an eight foot tall clown speaking into a microphone, "Look what we have, the Halloween Whores!" I just gave a nod like this was a normal statement and kept walking. I was told if you make eye contact, you're dead, so I let this "comedian" talk badly about my friends.

The Halloween Horror Night started with six shots of Patron, it was necessary for me therefore it was necessary for everyone else. That's just the kind of drinker I am. Next, we went on a tram ride which I presumed I would be able to scrunch down in my chair and sit in the middle of the six girls, but then the tram came to an abrupt stop. We were told to get off the tram and head toward the men holding chainsaws with their backs turned to us. I screamed that I wasn't getting off, similar to a four year-old, and I was met with a "YOU HAVE TO!" I jumped off to meet 10 masked men running towards us with chainsaws. Cool. We were led through the movie sets, so it was difficult to take in my favorite place in the world, Whoville, while being chainsawed and grabbed. Not as pleasant as I had imagined it. The rest of the evening consisted of taking advice from a bunch of 12 year-olds on what was the scariest Haunted Houses and navigating through 'scare zones' full of freaks and a zombie midget. Luckily, Jenna was able to get on his level and scare him off with her boyish scream.

After evaluating the evening, I found the green midgets which I thought were statues and the dead ladies holding babies that popped out at us to be the scariest and also created a new fear of mine, but all in all the night was a frightful success. I had a buzz about 3/4 of the time, almost broke two of my friends arms, and ended the night with a pleasant Simpson's virtual roller coaster ride. I still can't say I understand the meaning of these 'intentional gatherings', but I know my friends (one in particular) had one of the best nights EVER which makes the scares and $52 (plus shots) well worth it.

What would I do without my FREAKS!?!

'The Playboy Club' Has Sexual Content?!?

NBC'S, 'The Playboy Club' Boycotted By PTC
When you think of 'Playboy' what is the first thing that comes to mind? Is it Kraft Cheese? What about Campbell's Soup? What comes to my mind is sex, fame, and bunnies of course. So why are Campbell's and Kraft two of the seven sponsors canceling their advertising during 'The Playboy Club' after the first episode? If their expectations were for the show to contain fully clothed women and discuss the turn of a new matriarch society in 1963; they might need to reevaluate who is in charge of their media buying. The PTC (Parents Television Council) describes the show as objectifying and degrading women since it was picked up by NBC. I describe it as Chicago in 1963. 

The president of the PTC, Tim Winter, said Wednesday, “What has been clear to everyone outside of NBC must now be clear even to those inside NBC: The Playboy Club is a commercial disaster and must be removed from the airwaves. We call for the network to cancel this degrading and sexualizing program immediately."

I call for the PTC to join us in 2011.

Whether it's the PTC's criticism of the show or the racy content making the sponsor's back out there is no need to pull the show. I am all for women's rights, but  'The Playboy Club' is going to contain material not suitable for children and apparently not suitable for the PTC.
A sponsor can find a media outlet or showtime unfitting to their product/brand, if this is the case, be my guest, pull out (no pun intended). If they are canceling their spots simply because of the bullying and criticism from one group saying the show is "a broadcast television program that is mainstreaming the pornography industry", then the issue is not the show but rather their own substantiality as a company. The PTC needs to start targeting shows like Two and a Half Men, How I Met Your Mother, or Desperate Housewives, all on before 10 pm (not that I want them to) but at least you know what to expect with a show entitled 'The Playboy Club'.

Rock on NBC and rock on Hef!

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/the-playboy-club-chrysler-continue-advertising-ptc-241627

The Emmy Awards: Radiant in Red

The Emmy Awards Show occurs every year and every year the stars come out in the showstopper outfits or the outfits that could only have been chosen in the dark. I took a few hours out of my busy work day to provide my own critque on the different wardrobe choices at the 2011 Emmy Awards.

At every Awards show you have the hits and you have the misses. This year was no different, from the obnoxious red pants worn by Alan Cumming to the show stopping Vera Wang dress worn by Sofia Vergara, TV's biggest night brought out the biggest stars AND the boldest fashion statements. Kate Winslet, Lea Michelle, Nina Nobrev, Connie Britton and Kerry Washington were all radiant in red, but while they were busy blending into the carpet; stars like Katie Holmes, Julie Bowen, Dianna Agron and Gwyneth Paltrow stood out in the nights WINNING looks.

Alan Cumming

Kate Winslet

  

Connie Britton



  

       

Lea Michelle

Kerry Washington

Sofia Vergara

Nina Dobrev

Gwyneth Paltrow

Katie Holmes

Julie Bowen

Diana Argon

As for the MEMMYS or rather the men of the Emmy's, it was hard to miss Heidi Klum's main squeeze, Seal. His suit choice or lack there of showed off his chiseled, shiny chest almost as much as his PDA for wife, Heidi. We don't blame you, Seal, Heidi was beaming in her Project Runway alum, Christian Siriano, gown. More big winners of the night walking away with both Emmy and 'best dressed nominations included the always dapper, John Hamm (MadMen), Ty Burrell (Modern Family) and Kyle Chandler (Friday night Lights). It's hard to find anything wrong with these strapping lads.

Seal and wife, Heidi Klum

John Hamm and longtime girlfriend

Add caption

Ty Burrell

 One of the night's biggest moments was the Emmy presented to outstanding lead actress in a Comedy, Melissa McCarthy. While all the nominees were dressed to the nines; it was McCarthy who demonstrated what can be considered some of the most fashion foward qualities; a humble, confident and classy presence.

Megan McCarthy

After much deliberation and several best-dressed nominees I've put my top four choices up for your final vote. The front runners for the 2011 Best dressed Emmy Fashion Award go to the Vera Wang picture perfect dress worn by Sofia Vergara, the stand out Elie Saab gown donned by Kate Winslet, the striking yet simple Marchesa gown Lea Michelle fit into perfectly and the blood-red, Donna Karan gown Nina Dobrev wore with such confidence.

Looks like this year's Emmy Awards Show was the year blending into the red carpet was the right fashion statement of the night.

I'd Rather Shadow a Dog.

I moved to California almost two years ago. It took me a little while, but I've done pretty well for myself so far.  I almost gave into those people who predicted I would head back to Nebraska after a few months of fun. Well to 'those people', in the words of the ill-tempered Chris Brown, "Look at me now"! Not you mom- your prediction of California falling into the ocean for being the reason I leave is far different than the others. It hasn't been easy: the money, the interviews, the apartment searching, the giant step I took moving in with the BF after 5 months, the tracker, the traffic, and did I mention the interviews?

During the first six months in California, I almost turned my resume into Sonic and resorted back to the old days when I was the only car hop brave enough to deliver the food while wearing roller skates. Sure, I ran into a few cars while spilling their slushies and chili dogs all over their laps, but the stoppers on skates are totally different than rollerblades. I figured, this might not be the best option since I probably had gotten worse at rollerskating with age. Twenty-one...maybe.


I could've taken my mom's advice, "Claire, why don't ya just go down the street to Starbucks and apply for a position there. They heard they really take care of you there," she said.

Really mom? First of all, there is no Starbucks down the street like you say. It's a Coffee Bean and I highly doubt they take care of you the way Starbucks could. Starbucks- out.

But luckily, I found a job and here I am on my break sitting in the corner of Panera bread drinking an iced tea and eating my own Triscuits and turkey out of a zip lock bag, just to use their wi-fi. I'm still cheap. But, I'd have to say the job search leading up to my current job was one of the most interesting and devastating times in my life.

One of my interviews even took me out in Brentwood for an eight hour day only to walk into businesses and ask to upgrade their phone service while 2 out of 3 times getting escorted off the property by security. It started out with a 45 minute drive to a 'pre-interview' where I met 13-15 sales reps who had their designated territories. I was one of the three people interviewing for a position at the marketing firm and we were all assigned to a sales rep who we would 'shadow'. I was paired with the short blonde, who looked like she was dressed for homecoming, wearing too much make-up, and smelled as if she smoked a shit-ton but covered it up with a very potent fragrance. She was a peach. We got done with our motivational speech from the overly tan, pumped up manager who probably did nothing all day except prepare for the next days motivational speech. I then found myself driving for close to an hour in the stop and go traffic with my new friend, let's call her Beth. She looked like a Beth. We went up and down the streets of Brentwood (a very ritzy neighborhood by the way) into businesses and offices only to be told 'no' and looked at like they were thinking, 'This is seriously your job?' When I saw this face on one of our solicitees, I looked at Beth the exact same way. I started to feel sick, that's how much I hated this 'interview'. I almost called my boyfriend who was an hour away to come pick me up. Instead, I followed little Beth on her quest to check out people's phone bills.

The last building we entered was a large skyscraper type structure filled with multiple offices. There was a security guard's desk at the front. The last building we visited was similar to this one and they did not let us in. You would think this would stop Beth. Luckily, for Beth, the guard must've taken a long lunch because he was not at the front desk. She proceeded to walk at a brisk speed to the elevator. It seems only obvious that when you are looking out for a security guard and walking at a rather fast speed, you might be doing something wrong, not Beth. She went into office after office, unnanounced and unwelcomed. I would try to stay in the hallway, but she would always turnaround to introduce me so I had to step in. If there was a plant or statue, I did my best to hide the skinny way behind it (seeing as I'm rather broad). Finally,  we were headed to the elevators where I was sure we would make an exit. Beth pushed the 'up' arrow!
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"We're gonna go try the next floor, I don't understand why people are being so rude here, it's not normally like this," Beth shared.
"Oh really? It's not, huh," I said sarcastically.
The elevator opened to present the slacking security guard who I blame for my entrance into this building. He asked if we were the girls going to every office soliticing the workers. Beth told him it wasn't soliciting and that she got one follow-up appointment. He asked what we were doing and after he heard Beth's explanation, he continued to define 'soliciting' for us. He escorted us all the way to the Exit of the building where we were kicked out. There's probably a picture of Beth and I in the building entrance banning us to this day. It's of Beth looking at a phone bill and myself, hiding behind a plant.

I continued down the long set of stairs, when I missed a step but since I was hanging on to the railing for dear life, I swung around the rail and landed on my knee. I then told Beth, "I'm not feeling well."

I'd rather shadowed a dog, all day.


Break's over.

Fired before 'Hired'

Everyone has that first, dreaded job interview. The one that makes your stomach travel up to your throat and stay there until you know you are safely out of the interviewer's building. The interview that is put on the map as one of the worst conversations ever had with a human being. No? Not you? Maybe it's me, but interviews provide me with an upset stomach from the moment a date and time is confirmed with the interviewer. I might as well tell them to just forget it. I WILL screw it up. How are you supposed to have a 20 minute conversation with someone and allow them to judge you on that meeting for what could turn into the rest of your career? It's like my personality shoots out the window and I'm sitting there looking like I just went into an interview-induced coma. I black out. I'm pretty sure I blacked out for the first four months of living in California because every interview was a disaster and I seemed to have several disasters...


It had been close to four months, I had gone on about six interviews and I had yet to impress one person. Since my original goal when moving to Hollywood was to become an actress, head of Entertainment Marketing, a writer, or Publicist somewhere, I was surprised when the offers were not rolling in. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. I was lucky enough to receive my first interview for a Junior Agent with a Modeling Agency. I would have the power to choose who is pretty enough to model. This was my chance to save face for all the gingers out there. The next part of the phone call took a slight turn:

"One more thing, Claire; MTV will be taping the interviews for a new show called, Hired. You will need to meet with a career coach before the interview so he can give you a few tips for the interview. This will also be on tape. It's a real position, it just so happens the interviews will be taped. No big deal."


"Oh wow, OK, that's fine," I said. "as long as we are focusing on the job at hand."


"Of course, there will just be a few cameras there documenting the process. You will hardly be on tape. I have included a contract you will need to sign and send back before the career coach interview. Talk to you soon!"


I signed the contract without reading a single word.

Like I said, I turn into a different person when the word 'interview' enters into the mix, so now not only do I have one interview with the Model Agency, I have two and they are taped. Perfect.  Needless to say, the day of the career coach meeting I was not excited. I had a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball and the only way to get passed this was a shot of Jameson. I didn't think this was the best career move so I opted for a sugar free Red bull to get my high. I was put in a room with two other girls. We were getting ready for our meeting with the career coach when a production assistant came in the room to put a microphone down my shirt. This was farther than I had gone with my 8th grade boyfriend of six months (that is like a three year relationship in middle school). Anyways, the whole 'you won't even notice the cameras are there' thing...lie! I was asked to walk out of the waiting room, down the stairs and to the interview room. I was then told to stop, turnaround, now walk back to the end of the hallway, up the stairs and begin walking again on the count of three. I repeated this several times until I cued to walk into the interview room. Completely normal. 


The career coach told me I needed to get rid of the large 'trapper keeper'  I was carrying. First helpful and humiliating tip of the day. I might as well brought in a rolling suitcase. For this position, I would need to be able to read people's moods. He asked me what I thought of his mood that day, my response, "You are chipper and professional." What the hell did I just say? Not to worry, I could just resort back to the tapes! The interview ended with an awkward handshake and another dig at the 'trapper keeper'. The post-interview was held on my way out of the building. It was only me talking to the camera which was a disaster. I couldn't put sentences together and I couldn't answer the questions in a full sentence like they asked me to do. Finally they told me not to worry about it and just leave.


I went to the actual interview a week later which didn't go much better. In the waiting room, I sat next to a short, young man whose previous job was as a Junior Agent in New York. I would've walked out right there, but I was being documented on video. My resume consisted of Arnold's Tavern, The Lincoln Journal Star, Pinnacle Bank in Havelock, and Wet Seal all in Lincoln, Nebraska. My name was finally called and it was time to show off my beaming personality to a partner at the agency. He began talking to me about Nebraska, like every interviewer does, maybe they believe it will get me in my comfort zone. What they don't know is I have no comfort zone. He asked me the normal questions; why are you right for this position? Why do you want to work here? Why are you turning bright red when you speak? OK, he didn't ask that last question but I know he wanted to. Then, he asked me a not so typical question, "Do you know what a 'comp card' is?"


I sat there in silence. I knew that my answer could either be extremely wrong or exactly right. I'm sure you can guess the latter.


"Ummm...I'm not positive," I stammered.
"Just guess, no big deal," he said.
"I think it's a card you get and use so you don't have to pay for anything. The entire purchase is free or 'comped', I said, totally unsure and ready for my back lashing.
"I mean, that's a good guess, but...no," his words were more of a stab to the throat, where my stomach was the past 2 weeks. "It's a card displaying the models sample pictures, head shots, info, etc., like those on the wall," he pointed to the 100's of comp cards on the wall.


Good research job, Claire. I decided this was the end of my career as a Model Agent. I gave a nice, firm handshake and left this man who I hoped to never see again. Not because he was rude or unprofessional, but because I looked like a douche.


The show later appeared on MTV. (If you look this up and I find out, you can consider us defriended). I started getting texts and calls from people I hadn't heard from in months or even years who said they just saw me on MTV. Yeah, you saw me, I look green, bloated, and stupid, that's the end of it. It's true what they say though, the camera does add the 10 lbs of baby fat I thought I shed a few months ago. The interviewer from the Model Agency told the millions/hundreds of  MTV viewers that I was 'too nice' for the job. I needed to have a thicker skin to be a Junior Agent. I have to say, good thing I had never heard of a Junior Agent position before this interview; otherwise I might've been pretty upset.


What I took away from these two death-defying interviews was I didn't do half bad; I was chosen from hundreds of resumes, I didn't get a terrible critique from the interview, and I made my tv debut. Looks like my dreams of becoming a Hollywood star were finally coming true....


I got the job!

Just kidding. The short guy did.