Home Sweet Home

Just when I thought I was going to go (metaphorically) Lizzie Borden on my parents after living with them for a month, the job gods smiled upon me.
I will be leaving Fairhope for Our Nation's Capital, and as such this blog's market will change yet again. I will be working in TV, so hopefully there will be lots and lots of celebs floating around. My only worry is that I will need the Congressional facebook to figure out who they are. I mean, you've seen one old white man, you've seen them all, right?

Obnoxious Food Network Star Visits Fairhope

I watch Food Network alot. I don't actually cook very much, but I feel highly prepared to based on the number of "30 Minute Meals" I've taken in. I know I shouldn't like Rachael Ray, but I can't really help it. However, I have less tolerance for other Food personalities. Sandra Lee, for example, sucks. She puts store-bought icing on a store-bought cupcake, sticks a dumb flower in it and puts it on her "tablescape." Ridiculous. But even worse than her is Guy Fieri. What a fruit loop. He's like 45 years old and dresses like a gawky teenager from Iowa imitating the West Coast. Armbands, Guy? Really?

Anyway if you've seen "Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives," you'll know that he cruises the country in a super-cool Ford Mustang (douche sign #1) looking for all the best down-home cookin'. Which, of course, brought him to Fairhope. (N.B. One local article called Guy "beefy." I think that's putting it nicely.) Guy and his crack team of food tv-ers visited Panini Pete's, which deserves all the fame it can get. I like the tomato and mozz panini with basil and the balsamic reduction. Also the homemade chips. Also the key lime pie.

Pete himself is quite the character. He rides a Segue and wears a weird chef beret. I'm interested to see how this translates on the show because Guy has a tendency to take over and squelch any other personalities in the immediate area. A shock, I know: the guy with the spiky bleached hair craves attention.

I'm hoping Anthony Bourdain will be perusing the Food Network this Monday at 10/9 Central and will see the quaint charm of our little village, deciding at once to pay us a visit. I would take him to Ivy's, which has an awesome tasting menu paired with various wines, and then for a little cultural flavor take him fish-gigging during a jubilee.

Explanation

Careful and diligent reader, you might have noticed a change in the title and explanation of this blog. That is because I have made a post-college graduation temporary move back to my parents' house in Fairhope, Alabama (hold your applause). Fairhope, in comparison to most other places in Alabama, is pretty ballin'. There is the beach but a relatively small number of trashy beach folk, the country but a relatively small number of trashy country folk, and a high number of quality restaurants. It's no Charleston, but until I get my act together, it will do.

You may be thinking that I should just write off the whole celeb blog since I've left a place that a fairly large percentage of the western world knows about. In actuality, Fairhope is a mini-mecca for artists and writers. Fannie Flagg has a house here, as does Rick Bragg. I even was informed during graduation that BRANGELINA is looking for a house here! Don't believe me? Check out WKRG.

So, all that to say, though I won't be covering Charleston, please check back. You never know when Brad and Angelina will turn up at the Winn-Dixie with one of their multicultural babies, and if that's not newsworthy, I don't know what is.

Bad Weather Not Welcome, Says C of C Almost-Grads

The weather widget on my computer has ominous dark clouds and lightning bolts for the next THREE DAYS. This is not ok. The moment I and my friends have been waiting for, that walk across the Cistern in our white dresses, absolutely HINGES on nice weather. We even learned how to graduate at a rehearsal yesterday, so the natives will be restless if we're instead herded into the North Charleston coliseum. I'm ready to use my knowledge of the graduation procedure.

Discontent with the weather abounds. Facebook statuses (statii?) like, "Sara is not pleased with the three-day forecast," and "James says if it rains I'm suing the College," are rampant. I'm waiting for, "X is pretty convinced God is punishing C of C students for four years of debauchery with sin-cleansing rain on graduation."

Plus, I was hoping for a lovely picnic on Sunday with my fam! Fingers crossed, everyone.

JUSTICE in CHARLESTON

Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves.

The North Carolina State Bar Association is in town, gracing Charleston with the greatest legal minds from what happens to be my least-favorite state thanks to an unfortunate bee attack in 1996. But, while they do dress in the most extreme version of douche-prep (this means You, guy with fishing hat tucked in the back of his fishing shorts last night at Beerworks), these lawyers are not celebs.

Except. For. One.

NANCYGRACEISHERE!!!!!

That's right. Recently delivered of what are no doubt space babies, Headline News legal eagle Nancy Grace (tagline: "You want stories. She wants JUSTICE.") is apparently a member in good standing of the bar association and as such is enjoying a vacay with her work colleagues. My fingers are crossed hoping that she hasn't practiced law anytime recently. Like ever.

I was prowling the Marion Square market this morning with a partner-in-crime hoping to spot Ms. Grace, but unfortunately she was nowhere to be seen. My prediction? She got a little tipsy with Extreme Akim at the open bar and...well, you know the rest.

Many thanks to our barista contact for the scoop on the conference at Marion Square. Watch what you say in Starbucks, y'all. The walls have ears.

There is Nothing Wrong with Implants, But...

My family are not celebrities, unless you use a very liberal definition of the term. Maybe if you play 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon. My dad met Omar Sharif once, who I'm sure acted with K.B., right? Regardless, even then, it would be a stretch. Though they are not celebs, my family was in Charleston today and because of one particularly interesting incident, it warrants a blog post. At least I think it does. But that's all that really matters, isn't it?

So. Jump back to early March, when I went on a vacay with my dad. He was going to an exotic southeast Asian country for work and I was bored so, you know, I went too. One day, I was minding my own business, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes after a between-wine-with-lunch-and-cocktails nap of the sort that only occurs on vacation and in Fitzgerald novels, when my dad hit me with a word-bomb: "So, your mom, um, got a, um, boob job."

Naturally my eyes about popped out of my head and any relaxation that the trip had provided was out the window quicker than you could say "collagen." (Background: my mother is the antithesis of someone who would purchase breasts. She sees absolutely no point in buying clothes because they are from a particular designer, and she regularly mocks me for the cost and variety of my handbags. You don't go from hating on Prada to getting a boob job. It's not done.)

I spent the remainder of the week trying to beat it out of him that he was lying, and even made a very expensive telephone call to my brother to get his take on things. He corroborated the story. I couldn't ask my mom, natch. That would be too awkward.

Upon my return to the U.S. I told basically everyone I know about the alleged boob job, of which I was now convinced. Flash forward to yesterday, when my parents sent me an e-photo of them in Saint Simons, which I promptly blew up as much as possible on my comp in order to examine my mother's breast status. Uncomfortable, but it was my only chance.

The fam arrived this a.m. in Charleston, and I quickly realized I had been punk'd. Ashton Kutcher, listen up, this is a good one. The breasts were as before. I confronted my mother, who was IN ON IT FROM THE START and everyone had a great laugh. Hilarious. Apparently they were calling it "Operation Lampshade."

And they wonder why I moved away.


This blog will return to celebrity coverage as soon as one surfaces.

College Hosts Another Socially-Active Celeb

In a surprising twist, the College of Charleston is hosting former Black Panther, presidential candidate, and FBI's Most Wanted Angela Davis tonight at 7.

Ms. Davis' appearance, along with that of Morris Dees (see previous, overly-excited post), indicates that perhaps they have seen the error of their old ways, i.e. two years ago when Ron Jeremy was the featured speaker. His topic? First amendment rights. I can't talk too much shit because I actually didn't go, but I heard it quickly deteriorated in a Q&A session on his penis size.

Now, if you were C of C and you were going to have a famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) speaker like Davis, you would think you'd be pumped, and advertise it heavily using many media outlets. Au contraire. Check out the College's website, where the biggest news is Rabbi Epstein's class, which presumably meets every week.

For any interested parties, the talk is tonight at 7 in the Kresse Arena on George Street. Dress is seventies-casual. Ms. Davis will be signing her new book afterwards at a reception which means CATERING!