Category Archives: Celeb

No, Zac, We’re The Lucky Ones.

I’ve been inspired to blog because my own inner monologue needed to make it’s way online.

I’d like to take a moment to discuss the recent trailers for “The Lucky One,” Zac Efron’s latest blockbusting hit. Aside from the movie previews which lasted upwards of 7 minutes and included so many plot twists I cannot imagine that seeing the film would bring to light any new character dilemmas, the television trailers are the things which great SNL shorts are made of. The shower intercourse, the war veteran, the beacon of hope that is any woman of a Nicholas Sparks novel, all provide great structure for a basic parody of film trailers.

Yet, the most strikingly delightful aspect of these clips is the return of the Zac Efron serious face. What is this serious voice? WHY MUST YOU PAUSE SO MUCH?  What is this “acting?” What is this aggressive flaring of your nostrils when you are making points? WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN COMPETE WITH THE ONLY NICHOLAS SPARKS ADAPTATION THAT WILL EVER MATTER, EVER?

Recall, if you will, the classic High School Musical moment when Coach Bolton charges in on Troy and Gabriella in the gymnasium, as they are mid-dribble, giggling and wrestling with a basketball. Gabriella is introduced to Coach Bolton, and flees the gym with the excuse of more musicALE practice to be sung. As she frolics out, Troy, played by young Efron, FLARES HIS NOSTRILS AND SAYS IN HIS NOW WONDERFUL, SERIOUS-FACED MANNER: “That girl’s NAME… is GabriELLA. …and she’s VERY NICE.”  Well, why Zac Efron hasn’t been given the Oscar yet is  beyond my comprehension. Hopefully this next Taylor Swift-lover marketed film will be his Academy attention-grabbing role. Until his nostril flaring acceptance speech, I will watch his talent beam from the likes of HSMs two and three.

End rant.

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Shmirez Shmilton: An Open Letter to Perez.

Dear Perez,

I am SO #overyou. I had been reading Perez Hilton since 2006, and loved your whole shtick about being this big gay man with hot pink hair that didn’t apologize for being a completely irrationally judgmental scumbag. Perez was the first thing I checked when I woke up in the morning, and I was addicted to your unapologetic voice and transparent honesty with your loyal, devoted readers.

I appreciated your dedication, and knowing that you were a random coffee-house blogger made you feel like the every-girl’s People Mag, sharing the truth with the celebrity-infatuated public, eagerly awaiting the latest updates on Britney’s bald, umbrella meltdown. Perez was all my friends could talk about. “Did you see Perez?” and “Perez said…” were more a part of my high school lunchroom conversations than classic gossip schoolgirl drama of “She broke up with him during 4th period?!”

We all lived off of your word and I found myself truly connecting to your views in the way readers should grow to love their favorite bloggers. If Perez liked this new crazy underground artist called “Lady Gaga,” then I learned to love her too. If Perez was voting for and supporting Barack Obama, then I suddenly agreed with a change, too.

I had grown from reader to minion in no time, and considered it the highlight of my life when I went to your book signing, took a picture, and ended up on the website itself. (I was a celebrity! I had made it! And I didn’t have to do drugs to get there!)

Then, suddenly, I wasn’t the only Perez-head. Everyone loved you, and suddenly the ads on your site were getting much more legitimate. Site takeovers? Name brands? Had my beloved bestie gone mainstream sellout?

You had. It was heartbreaking. Suddenly, celebrities you had abhorred and criticized for years were “not so bad” after reaching peace agreements with a now aggressively influential blogger. Paris Hilton was less of a train wreck and more “misunderstood,” and I knew you had lost your bite and your bark. Blog entries were clearly written by interns and other writers, and “Perez” was a personality, not just an everyday guy in a coffee-house. You were meeting celebrities and befriending the A-listers you’d spent years tearing down via doodled-on devil horns. The doodles went from horns to halos, and Perez Hilton became nothing more than a glorified, pastel pink Life & Style.com. I had turned to your for my daily dose of “unconcentrated” celebrity juice, like the masthead read, I wanted the truth, I wanted the honest dirt, and now you had crossed over to the glittered side and were one of them. You lost your charm and nastiness when you lost a significant amount of weight, and got too cool for hater blogging, and subsequently, your site is boring and underwhelming, and barely breaks news first anymore as it did during the glory days of ’08.

Whether I outgrew Perez because I outgrew celebrity gossip and began to anticipate the next Facebook conference more, is debatable. Still, Perez Hilton, you once held a significant place in my heart before you decided to have one yourself, and completely toss all that your blog had originally stood for, and all that had once drawn me to your blog eighteen times a day. The memory of the old Perez will live on as my once favorite blog, and I will instead turn to the twitterverse for the latest news from my new favorite, trusted sources. R.I.P.

The Boston Globe

I got a call a few weeks back from Beth Teitell, a Boston Globe journalist, who was writing an article about Twitter followers and Klout scores. My name was passed along by Marlo at marlo marketing communications, where I had interned this past fall and successfully positioned myself as that freaky intern who is irrationally obsessed with Twitter.

I spoke with Beth for hours and a bit of our conversation made it into the FRONT PAGE ARTICLE! 🙂 check it out here!

Disclaimers: I barely go on dates period, let alone do I actually real life care about how many followers a person has, please. Also, I don’t know how much as of right now I can stand behind the validity of Klout. They’ve always been very unclear about how scores are calculated and often some user scores seem higher or lower than is logical… #JUSTSAYIN

Naveen in the Bean!

It is no secret that I am a BIT of a foursquaddict. I have an unhealthy obsession with using foursquare, and have since I first became a foursqerson. I’ve had the honor of meeting Dens himself, one of the greatest co-founders of anything of all time, and though many label me an extremist (read: stalker), this is only because my respect and adoration runs deeper than Pee Wee’s love for fruit salad. (hehe. see what i did there? a little foursquare-PeeWee integrational humor there for all you fellow foursquare fans.)

@dens & @ValentinaMonte. ignore blurry orange ShoelessSeth #ugh

Yesterday, I was laboriously hostessing at Scoozi,  tweeting away about @ScooziBoston, when I noticed a tweet from foursquare co-founder I had yet to meet, @Naveen, which I NATURALLY emphatically responded to immediately.

the glistening booth glowed up at me from my phone, and immediately I regretted not properly stalking adequately, for if I had been, I would’ve seen that Naveen HAD checked into the Hyatt Regency Cambridge mere HOURS before. How could I have slipped up on my obsession so?

…..

And then. something AMAZING HAPPENED. and this was the moment that I now refer to as “when Valentina peaked.” for no greater twitter experience has happened in recent days. and i was in social media-induced HEAVEN #perusual

No stranger to Naveenium, i knew JUST how to contact the innovative genius that is Naveen Selvadurai, and began composing this absurdity:

Naveen!
This is Valentina Monte, official Boston University foursquare ambassador, and unofficial biggest foursquare fan. (Note: fan. NOT stalker of the founding geniusi, as many attempt to label me). I’d BE HONORED to meet up. Let me know what time/ place is convenient for you this evening? Your tweet alone just made my night/year. Thank you!!

Obsessively*,
Valentina

*healthy, reasonable obsession

and yes. yes it IS sad that this email was me toning-it-down, and that this final draft is really rather composed and pretty contained in comparison to my original message of “#HOLYHASHTAG YES WHERE ARE YOU!? I WILL FLY THERE! CHECK IN QUICKLY SO I MAY IMMEDIATELY BE NEAR YOUR GAP-MODELING SELF!!” But i’m not insane, CLEARLY.

So Naveen, presumably assuming that I am an adult, Boston University employee, responds to my email with an invitation for a meet up at Green Street in Cambridge, AND HOMEBOY GAVE ME HIS DIGITS. THAT’S RIGHT. THE CO-FOUNDER OF FOURSQUARE EMAILED ME HIS NUMBER TO CONTACT HIM. (now is probably when Naveen contacts authorities to notify me of a restraining order… #woops #sorryimnotsorry)

Naturally, I drag fellow Boston tweep & social media enthusiast @RSprung along with me so I’ll have some one there to tone down my crazy, and we both hop the Red Line to Central Square. Though I am having serious regrets about not anticipating this meeting and won’t be able to don my foursquare shwag (tee, pins, tattoos), fortunately the sticker is eternally stuck to my phone case. PHEW.

As I am in the middle of all my fantasies coming to life, we are honored to be introduced to the brilliantly wonderful Susan Loh & Neil Sanchala, and also be part of the following tweet:

and NO, “online” is not a euphemism for psychotic stalkers, thank you.

Green Street is actually a really cool spot, and it was Naveen’s birthday a few days ago– so yea, I technically crashed a techy’s bday bonanza. #WIN

I was able to get in my suggestion for alphabetized friend listings, and essentially practice the art of containing indescribable gleeful delight. Many, many thanks to the wonderfully welcoming and phenomenal foursquarers, Naveen, and their ability to pardon my insanity. What a perfect perfect Monday night! 🙂 AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAVEEN. (or me. cause GOD it felt like it must have been my own birthday) #heavenlymondaynight #holyhashtag

 

Touched by Alyssa

Fellow NYC-interning-ADPi, Vanessa Misciagna, for some bizarre reason thought of me when she needed “models” for a segment on the PIX11 morning news broadcast.

Alyssa Milano was on the show to chat about her new clothing line, “touch,” which is sportswear for women that can be purchased online or in major ballparks, stadiums, etc. I’m not necessarily a Mets fan, but I am a fan of supporting Vanessa and Who’s the Boss Alyssa, and the very attractive morning co-anchor, John Muller.

It was lots of fun! We dressed up in the clothing (which we got to keep- thanks Alyssa!), and did a quick mock-modeling on the green screen stadium.

Alyssa’s really sweet, and SHE TWEETED US! Which is a huge honor, since this all came immediately after this summer’s Wieden + Kennedy Old Spice hullaballoo. Active tweep? She wins in my book.

 

This Tea Party’s Gone Mad

I know, I know: the whole “going MAD,” “mad” world, “mad about Mad Men!” concept has been incredibly overdone, especially lately, but I couldn’t help but draw the Mad Hatter/ Mad Men comparison. As a student majoring in advertising, Mad Men is to the department as Samantha Jones was to PR, or Elle Woods to law schools. Everyone suddenly finds the field sexy and wonderful now that Don Draper lights up a Lucky Strike and makes it so. (and MY GOD does he make it so.) Mad Men has become uncomfortably integrated into my studies, and I know my peers can say much the same. My personal Intro to Advertising notes are riddled with references to the show. Surely I passed the class because rather than “account management” I wrote “Pete Campbell,” and where “art director” would be, my notes instead say “Salvatore Romano,” while the entire “copywriter” portion of the course is entitled “Peggy Olson.” I’m not completely naive, and obviously don’t expect that all agencies in this day and age down Maker’s Mark between meetings. Still, I’ve seen the offices at Y&R, and though there is no “secretarial pool,” there were certainly the ping-pong tables and Rock Band setups to prove that advertising is at least crazy fun, if it isn’t oozing sex.

After a grueling eight months, with only New York Magazine coverage to ease the longing for Roger Sterling’s silver locks, Mad Men is FINALLY BACK this Sunday! AMC is pulling out all the stops, including an updated MadMenYourself, Monday night “Best of” Marathons, the genius Banana Republic Casting Call Contest, and a Times Square Premiere Party that would delight the pants off any secretary. The PR and planning leading up to this season has been so brilliantly crafted, you’d thing only Don Draper himself could concoct this stuff. To honor Mad Men’s return to television, and America’s return to time-traveling, disbelief-suspending bliss (CAUSE I’M SORRY- NO WIFE WOULD EVER LEAVE A HUSBAND AT THIS TIME. I JUST DON”T BUY IT. ESPECIALLY NOT GUTLESS AND MINDLESS BETTY DRAPER, I DON’T CARE HOW CHARMING THIS HENRY FRANCIS MAY BE…), enjoy some of my favorite bits, spoofs, and aspects of arguably the smartest show on television that can appeal to a college student!

BEST SCENE.

God– I mean Don Draper

Cooking & Laundry for Dummies Women

Mad Men in 60 Seconds

Betty Draper, Mother of the Year

Vanity Fair Explains Mad Men

Parenting

Great Scene

Epitome of Why Don is An Epic Ad Man Scene: The Kodak Carousel

Another great Don pitch: Lipstick

and Roger.

C is NOT for “Chick Lit”

But it IS for Cecily, Candace, and Commencement! (hehe, and CHUCK) Last week, the Union Square Barnes & Noble AGAIN made my literary dreams come true by hosting a book signing with Cecily von Ziegesar, Candace Bushnell, and that other girly book author  (J. Courtney Sullivan).

What better way to celebrate Serena van der Woodsen’s Bastille Day Birthday, than WITH HER CREATOR?!?! I read the Gossip Girl books (yes, all of them) during my senior year of high school. Okay, I was only 4 years older than I should have been, reading a girly teen fiction series… don’t hate. I loved that I was applying for schools at the same time as the characters, and living senior year right as S & B were. I remember reading Gossip Girl to put off a Hamlet paper, and I’d open the book… and Serena was PUTTING OFF A HAMLET PAPER! Yes, yes I DID apply to Boston University because Nate did. Yes I DID buy Gauloise cigarettes while in France because Serena smoked them chimneyily. Yes I DID have my mother use natural oils to concoct a real-life replica of the “Serena’s Tears” perfume. YES I DID bring the first book with me to my freshman year of college like some girls bring their bible. OKAY?!?!?!! I have a problem, and I’m aware of it. Yet, Cecily is one of the many people on my “dream dinner party” guest list, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to drool at her brilliance. I mean, she’s…like…THE CREATOR OF BLAIR. The books were so great…. and then season 3 of the show and Vanessa’s HAIRY HAIRY HEAD ruined them! Except not really cause nothing EVER could, but still, Josh Schwartz: you always come just SO close to brilliance and then invite Hilary Duff… I mean kill Marissa… I mean jump the shark. UGH.

The beautiful ladies were at Barnes & Noble to promote their latest novels and not address the enormous elephant in the room that was my main question: “Cecily, how is it that you’ve allowed for the television series to be so CRAPTASTIC in comparison to your books, and yet Candace has done just the opposite in that the show is just as wondrous as her original novel, if not slightly better?” Oh. Maybe I was the only one thinking this.

Candace was very sweet when I met her, and she behaved like a charmingly inappropriate Carrie Bradshaw, explaining the changes in the workplace for women today (less cocaine in the office, safer city streets, etc. etc.). The ladies also discussed their novels, writing, “the process,” and each offered wise gems such as Candace’s  “…When you’re in your twenties, you feel like, ‘I have to get everything done. Right. Now!’ and… you really don’t,” and “If you don’t feel that if you’re not a writer [or whatever career it may be], you’ll DIE, then DON’T do it.” Candace’s friendship with the GREAT SIR BRET EASTON ELLIS was clear with her explanation about the “idealism that a teenager has… [and the] break between the fantasy of adult life and the reality of adult life…[there is an] inherent tension in it, which goes back to girl versus society.” Thus began Cecily’s eloquent dismissal of “chick lit” as a defining category of literature, and asking “is there a ‘DUDE LIT’?!” I knew as soon as the rando in the audience mentioned “CHICK LIT” in the same sentence as one of their names that heads would roll. CECILY IS NO LAUREN CONRAD!

It should also be noted that Cecily chatted with me and Annie (the Serena to my Blair) for so long after signing all three books I’d brought (including the copy of the first novel which I purchased in French, in France), and J. Courtney Sullivan is so sweet and adorable and… Candace Bushnell created the novel that led to a very well-written show? All in all: GREAT evening of female-driven books and CCCChit CCCCChat!