It’s taken me a few days to recover from the Critic’s Choice Awards, which aired on VH1 last Thursday night. In the days leading up to the event, I prepped as I always do for red carpet events: By spending money on a gown when I already own 12 gowns and putting fake eyelashes on my body in the places where I already groomed away my real hair. Judging by my stint at the CCMAs a few years ago, the star power would be cranked to “I Can’t Breathe” (a number on my dial).
So on Thursday, after getting hair and makeup and San Tropez-ing my legs all the way up to my belly-button (the “brown leggings” effect that men can’t resist), I put on my grey leopard print gown, cranked on a few hundred pairs of Spanx, and Robocopped my way to the Palladium where our red carpet Spreecast would take place.
Now, if you’ve never had the honor of interviewing celebrities on the red carpet, let me give you a little taste of what it’s like: Picture a bunch of starving animals at the zoo, and then picture the window from Fuddruckers rolling by. On the red carpet, the journalists are the animals, and the meat, our delicious celebrity. It’s a do or die situation. You must be able to slyly charm the celebrities over to your microphone while simultaneously pushing your hand in the face of your neighbors. Because of the competitive spirit seen on any red carpet, I have no choice but to Jekyl into my least favorite version of myself: That of a rabid animal.
But things started off promising! Right off the bat, I met one of my favorite actors ever: Andy Serkis, of Lord Of The Rings Gollum fame, and his lovely daughter Ruby. I also scored live-stream interviews with The Help star Octavia Spencer (we felt each others Spanx), as well as the writer/director of The Help, Tate Taylor, who is not only drop dead gorgeous, but also hilarious (“Don’t call me Taint!” — His words.) Also stopping by were Jason Segel and Bret Mckenzie, Bridesmaids director and funny gentleman Paul Feig, along with two of my faves and stars of the movie, Wendi McClendon-Covey and Ellie Kemper.
I got a chance to speak to Diablo Cody, and brought up my one qualm with her film Young Adult. See, in that movie, Charlize Theron’s character eats donuts all f*cking day long only to reveal a size 2 model’s physique. To which Diablo admitted that there was a “bulimia storyline” that didn’t make it into the film. And then we laughed, like old friends, which now we were! That’s the magic of the carpet!!
There are a hundred other stories I could share with you here — the elegant Christopher Plummer holding my hand through our interview, the adorable Elle Fanning who I want to be friends with even though she’s only 13 (creepy!) — but let’s face it. There are really only two exchanges that warrant absolute old-fashioned panic attacks. Two exchanges that would soon come true for me. Because, people…
I MET BRAD PITT AND GEORGE CLOONEY
Yes, as George Clooney and his beautiful girlfriend Stacy Keibler meandered their way down the “gray carpet” (actual color of the carpet and his hair = double joke!), I stood there, trembling, thinking “Please, God, let me make a loud fool of myself in front of these fine people.” And as more proof that God really does exist, he made it happen.
Here is extremely grainy footage of Saw VI myself and George and Stace covering all the important bases… mainly, how to make it ahead in the “business,” and thanking them for being my favorite Tally-Smally couple. (Stacy didn’t take too kindly to that.) Here’s the interview, from panic attack to completion:
I have to give my apologies to Albert Brooks. I was so famished in my post-Clooney state that I sort of botched his interview, despite insisting he come over. I don’t think calling someone a “comedy legend Albert Brooks” repeatedly makes up for the fact that I wasted a solid minute of his time.
Just when I thought Clooney would not only be the highlight of my evening but rather, my life, who should I see hobbling down that same grey carpet but the handsomest man to ever live, Brad Pitt? Yes, Pitt had a cane with him, as he injured himself while carrying his baby girl Vivienne. (Sigh, even his injuries are sexy.)
Because I was now in full blown rabid animal insanity mode, I knew I had to talk to Brad. It wasn’t up for debate. It was going to happen. As he moseyed on by me, I pleaded “Brad, please, a minute for VH1,” and held out the Rock Band microphone we had been using. He *lovingly* grabbed my wrist (pause to picture cartoon versions of my body floating up into heaven) and said “VH1! I can’t. They’re pulling me in!”
“Brad, what happened to your leg?”
“I know… Limpskies!” Brad Pitt said LIMPSKIES to me, which is all the evidence I need to know that Brad Pitt reads the Bestweekever.tv blog. (Agree with me on this.) So what do I say? While his publicist is literally dragging him into the show? I scream “Oh don’t worry, I have plantar fasciitis, I know how it goes!”
Yup. Dropped the ol’ “PF” bomb. (Those of you unfamiliar, I basically have a tear in my left foot tendon.) When I told a co-worker later about the exchange while floating and wearing wings because I was an angel now, he looked at me, shook his head, and said “You had only one question.”
Indeed. I had only one question. It’s been haunting me ever since. Me and my gown just sit next to each other on my couch and stare at the ceiling. One. Question.
I still haven’t forgiven myself.
Thanks to everyone who tuned in to VH1 for the show and VH1.com for the livestream!
