Laurie Sandell

“First Fridays” in LA

This weekend I met up with my friend Karen Ramos and her friend Bayne Gibby (who acted in one of my favorite shows, The Comeback) to attend “First Fridays” at The Museum of Natural History in LA. The first Friday of every month, they open the museum to the public for lectures, bands, food and drink. We tried to get in to see a new hot band called Yeasayer, but by the time we arrived, the fire marshal was turning people away. So instead we hung out in the diorama room, listening to a DJ spin tunes, watching kids dance, and fleeing stampeding elephants! Then we explored the museum with a bunch of a drunk hipsters. And learned about birds.

After The Rapture, I will take your dog

A woman in Westfield, Indiana has created a website dedicated to the care of pets left stranded by the coming of Jesus. The tagline reads, “If The Rapture happened right now, what would happen to your pets?” Presumably, millions of Chihuahuas, Pugs, cats, hamsters, guinea pigs, and even elephants would be stranded in their empty homes and cages, bereft of food, water and companionship. But for the low, low price of $15/month, you will be assured that after you leave this mortal coil, your pet will be taken care of by a heathen Jew or other non-Christian like myself!

A question in the Q/A: “Isn’t the world going to be totally collapsed after The Rapture?” A: When all the Christians on the planet disappear, there will certainly be mass devastation. However, the majority of people will still be on earth, and communications will be their first priority to maintain. As far as the data about all registered pets, it is located on Google servers (the most secure servers in the world) as well as our own server in Lansing, Michigan (away from political and military hot spots to minimize chance of destruction if there is a post-Rapture war.)

Isn’t that refreshing! Just so this hilarity is properly credited, my friend Merrill Markoe sent this to me, and it was sent to her by Elayne Boosler. According to Merrill, this is real.

A night out with a book group in Beverly Hills

Julie Goler, Book Club Facilitator

Since I’ve come to LA, I’ve met with a number of book groups who are reading my book, thanks to the amazing Julie Goler, who holds the interesting position of “book club facilitator” and also teaches at Beverly Hills High School. She chooses a book for her group then moderates the discussion; there’s an interesting article on what she does, here. So far, the groups have been made up of women only, but the women come from all walks of life, and I’ve so enjoyed hearing their thoughts on the book from all their different perspectives. The other night I met with a group of women who were all around my age–25, give or take a few (or ten or thirteen) years–and the discussion took place in a sprawling home in Beverly Hills, over sushi from Koi and a cupcake tower. (Hello, can I join this group?) It’s funny how the same questions seem to come up over and over: What do your parents and sisters think about the book? Why did you tell the story in cartoons? Would you like a glass of wine? (No, thank you–see Pg. 199 of The Impostor’s Daughter: A True Memoir.) But the more I ruminate on the answers, the more clarity I get, and the more clarity I get, the more depressed I get…kidding, sort of. Connecting with readers has been by far my favorite experience of writing a book. That, and the mega-chunk of change that is sure to be deposited into my bank account when/if the paperback becomes a best-seller and when/if the movie rights sell.

“So, what’s your next book idea?”

Did you know that you can spend four years doing research for a book, two years writing it, one year drawing it, and mere months after it comes out, people will start asking, “So–what’s your next book idea?” Huh? Next book idea? As if I didn’t mine every single solitary idea I’ve ever had for that book? As if my brain hasn’t accessed every painful, funny memory; processed it, turned it into art, and now you want to know if there’s more? The main problem, of course, is that one doesn’t want to brainstorm a book idea; you want it to arise naturally. I picked up Elizabeth Gilbert’s new book, Committed, the other day, and she addressed this problem right in the intro. Of course, I don’t have quite the same problems that Elizabeth Gilbert has (ie. trying to come up with an encore for a book that sold several million copies). Anyway, I’ve been tossing around lots of ideas: Another graphic novel. Out of the question. Maybe if this one had been a huge bestseller and my publisher had begged me to do another one, I would have considered it. But I told this story in graphic form because I had to; it was the only way I could talk about my father without succumbing to fear. Another memoir, then. No. I put every experience I’ve ever had into that book. And if I didn’t include it in that book, I wrote about it for a magazine. So a novel. Well, yes. I’d love to try my hand at a novel. But I’d need a few years to pull that off. And a psychic I saw on New Year’s told me I was going to write something else first. Anyway, I did come up with a new idea the other day, and I know this is a very cryptic way to end a blog post, but I’m not going to share it here, because it’s nascent and fragile and I’m not ready to put it out into the world. But da-yum, I think I’m excited. It involves a little bit of cartooning and a lot of non-fiction writing. I’ll leave it at that.

Behind the scenes at a Glamour photo shoot

I’m sitting in a large white room at Smashbox Studios in Culver City, California, getting ready to do my next story for Glamour. There’s music blaring–the Glee soundtrack, of all things–and a woman dancing around and getting photographed in a gorgeous Dior dress. I’ve been here for hours, since shoots always last longer than they’re supposed to, so of course I’ve already eaten three lemon bars and a plate of steak.

The photographer's dog, Sontag

(Someone–I’m not naming names–has been my constant companion because of the steak, and it’s not my editor, Leslie, pictured left.) Much like a movie shoot, photo shoots are long and fairly arduous: Most of the energy happens in front of the camera; behind the scenes, there’s a lot of waiting around, checking e-mail, and, yes–eating lemon bars. Curses.

Wednesday night I’ll be featured on Brian Lehrer Live

Last year, I did an episode of  web show called Stacked Up–here’s a description of it:

A mashup of MTV’s Cribs, Oprah’s Book Club and The Paris Review, each five-minute Stacked Up episode will feature one of your favorite writers giving an insider’s tour of his or her library. We’ve found the best way to know writers is by the books they keep.

So today I got a call from Jill, co-creator of Stacked Up, to let me know that Brian Lehrer would be featuring the show–and a clip with me in it–on his live, hour-long TV show on CUNY TV. I won’t be watching since I’m in LA, but if you do happen to catch it, please tell me he aired the part about my love of Philip Roth and not the part about The Secret.

Two pinheads go to see Avatar

As one of the last people on earth to finally see Avatar, I went into the film with a few expectations. I knew it would be an astonishing visual experience but didn’t think the story would hold up all that well. I was wrong–I really loved it! I was entertained throughout and never bored; if I closed my eyes for five minutes it’s only because I didn’t get much sleep the night before. The theater itself was cool, too; we saw it in 3-D at the Dome at the Arc Light Cinema in Hollywood. The only real downside was that the glasses were huge and I have a pinhead, so they kept sliding down my nose. Julie and I were actually discussing the fact that we are both pinheads when we were ordering at the popcorn stand, and the guy behind the counter said, “How can you call two gorgeous girls like yourself pinheads?” I said, “It’s a fact, Jack–it’s not something we’re upset about, we just happen to have small heads. Hats and sunglasses don’t work. We’re just as God made us.” If plastic surgery for pinheads does, indeed, exist, I’m sure I’ll find it here in LA. But for now, I’m just going to have to live with it, and make extra cash performing in a traveling freak show.

A night of music in the Hollywood Hills

C. and I went to a great little dinner party last night, at the home of a talented director/musician. The place was filled with instruments, and apparently, they throw this party every few months, featuring a somewhat spontaneous performance by various guests. At the party I ran into Alexandra, a photographer I met a few years ago, who remembered me and my book; we completely hit it off. After dinner, we gathered in the music room and enjoyed a private show featuring many talented musicians, including Alexandra’s friend Eric Lumiere, who sang soulful, beautiful songs on the piano. I’m sure it went into the wee hours, but I crashed at around 11:30 PM and had to leave.

My new friend Alexandra

The full report from InStyle’s Golden Globes party

On the shuttle bus to the affair

Still buzzing from last night’s extravaganza, which was one of the most fun nights I’ve had in recent memory. My friend Amy Spencer and I watched the show and got ready at my house, stuffing our faces with so much Chinese food I, at least, was unable to fasten my dress until we arrived at The Beverly Hilton. Thanks to C., I was wearing a Leila Rose gown and carrying a Naeem Khan clutch. The jewels–a pair of cubic zirconia “shmimonds” from Bloomingdale’s–were mine.

The night began with a walk down the red carpet shamefully holding our coats as the paparazzi yelled, “Get out of the way!” so they could shoot Diane Kruger. We entered the party via The Godiva Room, a Willy-Wonka-like creation featuring plexiglass cubes filled with truffles and doubling as coffee tables; cascading chocolate towers; stations overflowing with chocolate-covered strawberries, truffles, nuts, and every imaginable Godiva product. After adding to my tight dress discomfort by sampling a few truffles, we headed inside to mingle.

Those legs belong to Stacy Keibler!

The first people I saw were Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy, who win the cutest Hollywood couple award (mainly because they’re one of the only married Hollywood couples left), and Courteney Cox, who was seated on a couch with her hubby, David Arquette. Amy and I made a few circles around the room, where we spotted Evangeline Lilly, Heidi Klum and Seal, Morgan Freeman sitting with Jeremy Irons, the entire cast of Glee, and Lindsay Lohan–though I didn’t realize it was her until the next day, when I saw photos of her in that crazy getup. Then Amy saw The Edge. Her sister toured with U2 for a year-and-a-half as their masseuse, so we got to sit with him and his wife for a while as every boldfaced name, manager, publicist, and random partygoer stopped by to pay homage.

Sampling a Godiva chocolate-covered strawberry

It was crazy the way people approached him: squatting down at his feet, bowing and putting their hands into prayer position, or bending at the waist as though approaching the Dalai Lama! Eventually we tired of The Edge (that’s a joke) and went out onto the smoking patio–second only to the bathroom for star-spotting. The first person we talked to was Bradley Cooper, whom Amy had interviewed.

We ran into Amy's friend Diego

He was polite but not über-friendly; the experience reminded me of talking to that random hot guy in college who looks over your shoulder the whole time he’s talking to you. We ended up in a little circle of guys that included Chris Kattan, who was talking on hyper-speed and being very funny. Christina Hendricks was draped over a nearby couch with her fiancee, Geoffrey Arend. We went to the bar to refill our drinks and saw the adorable Zac Efron with Vanessa Hudgens, and flirted with Topher Grace. Then Amy saw Chris Harrison, host of my all-time favorite show, The Bachelor, and brokered an introduction. He was in game-show-host mode, all smiles and a million miles away.

When we went to the bathroom we discovered stations manned by professional makeup artists, ready to touch us up, along with baskets of L’Oréal goodies. Back in the main room, I spotted Anna Lynn McCord–from behind, mind you, but I knew it was her–wearing a white, drapey, Grecian gown, and Neil Patrick Harris.

Hanging with Julie Benz from Dexter

Headed back out to the smoking patio and fell into a very long conversation with Julie Benz, who played Rita on Dexter. Turns out she’s obsessed with cooking, to the point that she wants to have her own cooking show.

At the end of the night we exited via The Godiva Room and ended up in conversation with an adorable, doe-eyed woman and her cute blonde boyfriend. Talked to her for a half-hour before we realized she plays Trudy Vogel, Pete Campbell’s wife on Mad Men. The four of us literally shut down the party and exited at around two in the morning, where Amy and I took our requisite photo in front of the InStyle step-and-repeat, then boarded the shuttle bus back to the parking garage. What can I say? It was a stellar, A+ night. THANK YOU, ARIEL FOXMAN!

Guess where I’m going tonight?

OK, not to the Golden Globes itself, but to the InStyle after-party! Which, in my opinion, is even better, since I’ll be nicely well-rested after watching the Globes at home. Yesterday, I went to pick up my ticket at the Beverly Hilton, where the show and after-parties are held; that’s when I snapped this photo. There was security everywhere, and the set and red carpet was bigger and more eye-popping than I’d ever imagined. Not sure, yet, what I’m wearing–I’ll be borrowing something from my roommate–but I’m spending today tearing around town getting a mani-pedi, blowout, and other assorted beauty treatments. I realize I’ve been a horribly delinquent blogger while settling into my life in LA, but I’ll post a full update tomorrow. Unless, of course, I’m still kicking it at an after-after party at Brad Pitt’s house.