Well, It looks as though the filming on yet another Twilight Saga will officially come to an end in a few days. The wolves and almost all of the vamps have now left the city, and all the Twihards & photogs will go back into hiding. At least until news of Breaking Dawn’s filming is officially released. I, personally, am hoping & praying it gets moved to a different location, preferably as far away from Vancouver as possible, and while that was looking like the case for a few weeks, it’s now sounding more & more like filming will remain in the city. Either way, it’s not that big of a deal to me – and I think that is the biggest misconception circulating around about some of us bloggers & tweeters on Twitter. Several of us have been branded as being “Twihards” simply for giving out set location/filming info, or even just for mentioning anything to do with Twilight. Let’s get something straight: Did I enjoy the movie? Yes. Do I enjoy the books? Eh, not really a book person. Frankly, I couldn’t care less if Twilight filming happened on my damn street, nor would I care if Robert Pattinson or anyone else from the cast were to walk past me, spit on me, poke me, buy me a drink or say boo to me. Yes, while myself & others have gotten some GREAT opportunities in the last couple of days for doing what we’ve done and knowing what we knew (as far as set info goes – which no one has ever doubted me or anyone else on), being “in the know” (or whatever you want to call it) hasn’t been my main priority. Unlike some, who seem to find it perfectly okay to try and make a profit off the information they’re given and the film(s) by giving set tours that cost well into the hundreds of dollars, throwing & charging for “Twilight parties”, etcetera. The only priority myself and a few others had was to help people out. I was not in this for any self-serving purposes or personal gain (and I could have very easily done so.) Had I been, I would have tried to make a buck nor would I have ditched all of the Twihards on Twitter WEEKS ago. It’s sad that the people who do try to act as selfless as possible are always the ones who seem to get the most shit handed to them – and I’m not even talking about myself, in this case. Believe it or not, there have been the odd few people who’ve gotten it a lot worse than I have and all it does is make me shake my head. Have I been less than patient and less than pleasant to some fans? I sure have, and I will be the first to admit that, but I say what I mean and mean what I say, and anyone who truly knows me outside of the “Twilight zone” knows that. I don’t & won’t sugarcoat ANYTHING. I won’t tell you what you want to hear. I’m very blunt, and always with reason. So if you got any type of backlash from me, you most likely deserved it; from the cockroaches to the LA rats, to the fan sleeping with an LA rat (date who you want to, girl, be happy, go on wit’ your badass self, all I’m saying is the way you went about it and flaunted the fact that you are dating a “paparazzo” (and your reasons for doing so) in some people’s faces was LESS than respectable), to the stalkers – specifically Elynn and Irene and their group of buddies; but they’re not the only ones.

Let’s talk about those stalkers for a minute, shall we? It has been claimed that some of us (myself included) have been “seen at every single set and hanging around outside the hotel 24/7″ which could not be further from the truth. For the record, I’ve only physically gone to two sets in early September and the only time I was at the hotel were the two times I had to go in it. To the 21st floor. Which just so happens to be, well, NOT OUTSIDE, in case you hadn’t noticed. If you’re going to create stories like that in an attempt to try and make a person look bad, at least have proof to back your shit up. It’s funny how the same people who make up said stories are the TRUE stalkers themselves. The ones who make going downtown (to find the cast when they’re NOT filming and are having personal time to themselves or are at PRIVATE parties) every single day a part of their daily routines. How would you feel if you were a celebrity trying to walk your dog and got stopped every 5 minutes? Just because they act like they don’t mind doesn’t mean that’s the case. Get real. It isn’t like they are going to tell their fans to fuck off. They’re left with no choice but to grin and bear it. Oh, and it doesn’t just end at going downtown. These stalkers go hang out at Vancouver International Airport for hours on end, too. My point? There’s a huge difference between downright stalking the cast, which is what that is, to checking out filming in hopes to see cast, which some have been lucky enough to have happen at sets; with Taylor Lautner stopping his vehicle at the end of a near 14 hour day to personally thank fans for taking the time to go down to catch a glimpse of them hard at work, to Kristen Stewart offering fans a quick wave, which is better than nothing. These people don’t owe us anything, and the entitlement along with the holier than thou attitudes have been running rampant amongst some “fans” for quite some time now.

Some have said how those of us giving out filming/set information were putting the cast’s safety at risk – sets that have full on security personnel AS it is. And, as opposed to what? Following the cast down the street and into the elevator at the hotel where there’s not always security around? Funny! HILARIOUS, even. I dare you to find me a crew member who gives a shit whether or not fans show up on/near sets. They (security) are PAID to have road blocks and barricades up, for the sole purpose of keeping fans at a distance. They’ve said this, themselves. They would much rather you show up there than show up at the hotel or a private function that isn’t always well secured, because Lord knows some of you are in serious need of a straightjacket when it comes to your obsessions with these people and there is no telling what a crazed fan may or may not do.

Anyway, this is getting a lot longer than I’d intended. The point? Twilight isn’t my life, isn’t the life of A LOT of people, and shouldn’t be yours either. The fact that some of you shed legit tears for RPattz’ non-existent fangs, call him “Edward” when he’s out in public, get off on fanfics, or stalk the cast as mentioned, is just sad. No, not sad, it’s actually PATHETIC, and I pity you. To those who don’t take it so seriously…thank God there are at least a few sane people left in this world!

Xoxoxo.

It’s weird seeing these Twilight New Moon pictures.

They look like real houses?

I didn’t realize they just build a set and take it from there.

It’s like make believe, you think it’s real and then you watch this stuff and realize it isn’t!

Bummer! LOL

So all you crazy fans out there, you will not find the big bad wolf Taylor Lautner living in this house!

You know they could reuse the little red house though, for little red riding hood? LOL

Now that would be kind of funny don’t you think?

IDEA!

Somebody make a funny rap song about Little Red Riding Hood and Taylor Lautner as the big bad wolf, and then put pictures of it together.

Let’s say that Dakota Fanning is Little Red Riding Hood in this one.

Here’s a scream-filled fight video from the game yesterday between the Marlins and Yankees down in friendly Florida. Some father, along with his young daughter intends to take in the game and instead has some crazed other fan attack him. Now, obviously, something was said earlier that set this all off prior to the video rolling but at least in the video it’s clear who was the aggressor. I will say the attacker makes a pretty crazy leap towards the dad, and the guy who is filming it makes a nice understatement when he turns the camera on himself and says “Holy shit!”

Happy Father’s Day!

I live in Austin.

There, I’ve said it.  You’d have to be a moron not to have figured it out by now and there are certainly no morons reading my blog.  To the contrary, I’m realizing that you are a crafty little bunch.  Most of you are good friends that I’ve guilted in to reading this blog anyway, but for any of you who don’t know me or that I live in Austin, well, now you do.  To all my CRAZED FANS out there, please don’t search me out and follow me around, never giving me a moment’s peace.  Unless you are going to give me gifts and massage my ego, then you can hang around a little, as long as you don’t try to talk to my kids.

I just really love Austin and want to be able to regale it properly when I am talking about my life here.  Give credit where credit is due, you know?  And one of the very best parts of Austin is the trail that goes around Town Lake (now Lady Bird Lake, after the inspirational fabulosity that was Lady Bird Johnson, without whom the city wouldn’t have this incredible trail).   There are about a million stories to tell every time you go to the trail.  I’ve told you a few already and I’m sure I’ll tell you a whole lot more as time goes by.  Today I saw a guy who was running along and he stopped running to bend down and pick up some trash on the trail.  He carried that empty, crumpled cigarette carton until he passed a trash can and he chucked it in.  I also saw a guy at a water fountain trying to get some water for his dog (they keep bowls on the ground by the water fountains for the dogs), but the water fountain wasn’t working.  This other man walking by stopped and offered the dog some of the water out of his own water bottle.  Those are just little things I see all the time down there.  Oh and sometime soon I’m going to tell you about Woode, the musician that plays for all the people on the trail.  It’s a good story, you’ll like it. 

But today I’ll tell you something else I see when I go running on the trail.  Every morning that I go, I pass by this couple sitting on a bench.  They sit on the same bench and look out at the same view of the lake.  The man sits on the left and has his arm around the woman, and she is leaning her head on his shoulder.  He wears the same sun hat every day; it looks like a fishing hat.  I’ve never seen their faces from the front because the bench faces right out to the water and the trail goes along behind it, but I am guessing they are maybe in their mid 60’s.  I base that partly on the back of his hand that I can see since it is around her shoulder and partly on the glimpses of their profiles that I get as I run by.  

So there they sit, quietly watching the lake.  They are a very peaceful picture and I always wonder who they are and how they have come to sit at the lake so often, together.  Because of the way her head is leaning on his shoulder, I sometimes think that she is sad and he’s her comfort.  Whatever the case, they have an intimacy and closeness to them that strikes me every time I see them.  In fact, I have a fear now that scratches at the back of my mind when I see them that one of these days I am going to run by and there will only be one of them sitting there, alone.  I don’t even know them and it would be more than I could take.  

I hope they have many more mornings together, sitting on that bench, watching the lake.  They are a comfort to me now, when I pass by them, and I’m sure they are for others, too.  They might like to know that, I suppose, and sometimes I think about stopping to tell them, but I never want to interrupt their time together.  It seems so precious to them.  But they should know that they inspire me to slow down a little and watch the lake with someone I love whenever I get the chance.

Today I learned that I get really, really aggressive when it comes to football. ‘Specially college football (like this guy, only worse).

Today was the huge famous rivalry football game that my school participates in. Normally, I would be sitting in my dorm room with friends or in a crowded restaurant like B*dubs screaming at the television set until I was both hoarse and blue in the face. Given the fact that, until I experienced my first college football game, I was completely apathetic about football, this is quite the transformation.

But today made it particularly obvious. As I explained in my last post, my family is in town visiting me. So while I wasn’t able to watch the entire game, we did get the chance to spend some time in the small bar of the hotel my parents are staying in. Of course, like any self-respecting bar, they had the football game on. But it wasn’t a noisy place full of half-drunk, bellowing men. The three people sitting at the bar itself were a young man and his two very young children — the latter happily muching away on pizza and applesauce.

The only other occupants of the place included a middle-aged woman seated by herself at a table, my group of four, and the bar staff. Naturally, the place was pretty quiet. As I watched the game, I found myself getting increasingly agitated at an alarming rate. All sorts of crap was taking place on the field, but instead of heartily abusing both the refs and the players as I normally would to let off some steam, I had to both keep my voice down in the generally quiet room and make sure I didn’t harm any little virgin ears.

It was really hard! I never would have thought that my brainless ranting and raving during a game was actually a necessity to my sanity. It was also shocking at how quickly I found myself practically foaming at the mouth. Instead, I resorted to quick, strained groans under my breath and wheezy, indignant and high-pitched demands directed at my parents, who were my game-watching-companions and thus had to be subjected to my every thought about the quarterback’s complete inability to throw the damn ball.

And just think that two short years ago, I couldn’t have told you who the quarterback was or why he was on the field. I guess team loyalty is what makes football so popular. If I didn’t have my little green team, I wouldn’t care what was going on in the game, but being a fan means that I want my team to win, so I’m extremely concerned about their every move — and of the opponent’s.

I also wonder if this new personality trait will transition to the real world. Maybe I’ll move to a city that has its own team, and then I can be like Kate Hudson in How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days at the Knicks game. Wouldn’t that be fun.

While en route to an appearance on The David Letterman show, Shawn Johnson’s plane was delayed because of her mere appearance. Apparently, upon hearing that she was on the plane the pilot got too excited and banged his head, forcing him to get stitches. Now, Johnson is cute, in that “I’m a chipmunk except  actual chipmunks are bigger than me sort of way,” but I don’t understand all the grown male attention being thrown her way, after all, she IS only 16… Regardless, you have to be at a pretty special point in your life when, as an airline pilot, the greatest moment is when Shawn Johnson gets on your plane. I have to believe that the other pilots at the airport bar will be constantly ragging on this pilot for the rest of his career, or at least they should be. Leryn Franco? Sure, get excited. Any of the other hot olympians, why not. But c’mon dude, she’s 16 and traveling with her parents. You really think you’re going to go back there, introduce yourself and she’s going to just fall for you instantly. And another thing, why are you so into gymnastics, the more I think about it, the more this pilot is getting more and more suspect. I definitely don’t want to ever fly on a plane with a man who gets THAT excited by a teenager.

Among the other crazed Shawn Johnson fans were the Chinese boys who held up signs proposing marriage to her from the upper tiers in the gymnastics stadium. Nothing makes a girl’s heart swoon more than a complete stranger asking her to spend the rest of her life with them. I find that asking always makes for more problems and denials, a small bottle of ether does the trick just as well and besides, who doesn’t like being chained to a radiator. It worked in Black Snake Moan right? I mean, I never saw it, but they fell in love right?

I just love that crazy devil. I was deeply disturbed when his show, “I’m With Busey” was canceled. I do not like pretty boys like George Clooney. (Although, I did love Dr. Ross on ER. )

Reason #1 that I “heart” GB….

His son, Jake, describes him the best…

“ “He’s a lot different than I am. He’s always telling stories about monkeys and toads and rockets. I can never understand what he’s talking about.”

Reason #2….Gary says crazy stuff like this….

“Bird season is over, butthorn.

“Uh, I feel Like a virgin on prom night.“

About his recovery from a motorcycle accident: “One night…at [the hospital], I was sitting in bed…and saw the Grim Reaper standing in the corner. He was seven feet tall, with a brown robe. He pointed to me and said, ‘Relax, it’s not your time to go. You have been given gifts. These gifts are ready to be received by mankind. So get on your feet and improve.’ Then he laughed, spun his scythe and left. I wasn’t asleep and I hadn’t been for days. Whether this was a premonition or an angel in disguise, I don’t know. But it was a positive reinforcement to stay on the road to recovery, which I’ve done.”

“Drinking your own blood is the paradigm of recycling. “

“Your imagination is the hood ornament on your car of creativity.”

“Friends are just enemies in reverse. “

” Fear is the dark room where the devil develops his negatives.”

Advice on dating from GB…..”Ask her if she’s ever played “Name that Smell.”

Reason #3

He freaked out Jennifer Gardner by kissing her unexpectedly on the neck on the Oscar’s red carpet. LOVED IT!!!!

Ok…so, he has big, gigantic, scary teeth……

and, maybe, he did get his brain knocked around a little in his accident.

I still love Gary Busey!!!

I just know in my heart that GB would welcome stalkers unlike that smug Clooney who had me has fans arrested for just wanting an autograph.

Ok…I was

so, a fan might have set up a 12 foot ladder outside of his bedroom window. He should have been flattered instead of calling the police on

me an anonymous female fan.

So, from now on, when asked who I find to be the most interesting, charming person in Hollywood, I’ll shout out…..”GARY BUSEY!”