Creepy Creeperton

I think I'm sick. Like mentally ill. Because I have had two very major cases of mistaken identity twice in the past month. For some reason these days, I can't seem to tell anyone apart. Say, for example, I see my sister Rachel in the street-- I see her face, recognize that I know her, but my mind tells me it's Mariah (my other sister). Okay that was a crappy example, but you get the point.

So today, I'm on my way home from an early AM audition and I have to take the N train. I have on heels so I uncharacteristically decide to sit on the bench to wait for the train. As I approach the seats, I see a round-ish, about 40-year-old Creepy Creeperton man in a green coat and green pants (a uniform of some sort?). He's carrying a backpack and he looks up and smiles at me. It's then that I realize that I know him, but I'm not sure from where. Being polite, I smile (a real one, which is really hard to get out of me), wave, and say "oh hi!" and sit down. I'm pretty positive he's one of the security guards in my office building or at our edit facility.

After I sit down, he says 'Hello beautiful," in this low-talking creeper voice and asks me what I'm up to. I tell him that I just came from an audition and respond "how about you?" He says "well I just got a haircut," and takes off his hat to show me. Again, trying to be polite, I say "it looks really great." Keep in mind that all the while I'm smiling and being cordial because it's the nice thing to do.

He then asks me, "So do you work around here?" Now this is the moment where I start to panic a little bit. You see, I thought I knew homeboy from my office building, but if he's asking if I work in the NYU area, that's obviously not the case. Could I be talking to a stranger??? Red flag.

I'm still not sure, so we keep talking and our conversation goes a bit like this:

Him: So what do you do?
Me: I work in television.
Him: Cool. You know what other profession you should do?
Me: [pause] Uh, what?
Him: Modeling.
Me: [Hysterically laughing] Uh, yeah right. Thank you, but no. Just no.
Him: I'm serious!
Me: Yeah, okay.

At this point, the train arrives, so I stand up, thankful to get out of this awkward (potentially dangerous?) situation. He also stands and says:

Him: Are you going far?
Me: [realizing that I'm talking to a complete stranger] No.
Him: I don't mean you any harm. Would you like to ride together and talk?
Me: [completely terrified, but not wanting to hurt his feelings] Uh, okay?

So we get on the train, and I sit in a seat with no open seats around it, cross my arms and close my eyes to signal to him that I really don't want to talk any further. But Creeper doesn't take a hint. He stands above me and starts muttering things I just plain can't understand. What I do get from the psycho-muttering is that he's getting off in a few stops at 34th street. 'Thank GOD!' I think to myself. I pretty much stop responding to his conversation and he finally starts busying himself with writing something down. Finally, we reach 34th street and as he's getting off of the train, he hands me a note (see above) which says:

Mike Warren
Columbia University Public Safety
212-xxx-xxxx
Please call me
Beautiful
Lady
Good Luck Lauren

As he hands me the note, he says "Please, please, please, please call me, Lauren. Call me up if you ever want a tour of Columbia."

SOOOOO CREEPY, guys. Super creepy McGee. I don't even know how to describe the fear and self-loathing I felt when I fully realized that I'd fabricated an entire relationship with this (possibly homeless) person in my mind.

Is this a real disorder? Like am I coming down with something? The last time I mistook someone for someone else was pretty catastrophic too. This can't, simply can not keep happening to me or I'll end up fictionalized on Law & Order: SVU. From now on, I'm operating on a very strict no-stranger policy. Unless you call me by first, middle, and last name and recite the last four digits of my social security number, I simply will not acknowledge you in the street. Period. If I want to live, it has to happen.

Heath Ledger Found Dead

As you've probably heard, actor Heath Ledger of Brokeback Mountain and 10 Things I Hate About You fame has been found dead in his SoHo apartment. The details are still quite shady, but what we know so far is that at around 3:30pm on Tuesday a masseuse and housekeeper found Heath unresponsive in his bedroom. After unsuccessful attempts to wake him, they called 911 and after multiple CPR attempts, the actor was pronounced dead. Reports also say that some unidentified pills were found near Ledger's body.

Unfortunately, this is the result of nothing but hard living. It's hard to say now whether the 'overdose' being reported was intentional or accidental, but it's clear that the Hollywood lifestyle is starting to claim too many lives, too fast. Even the Britneys and Amy Winehouses of the 'hood have lost their lives; if not literally, figuratively. Hopefully Heath's death won't be in vain and it will serve as a warning/wake-up call to his peers to wise up and slow down.

And maybe it's just me, but I don't know how good I feel about Dark Knight being released any time soon. I realize that the film's already been shot, Heath's wearing make-up, and all of those things, but have we no shame? Is our desire to see what's sure to be a great film greater than our respect for a grieving family? I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Heath Ledger: 1979-2008.

Update: Sources are saying that the apartment Heath was found in is owned by Mary-Kate Olsen. WTF?!

Baby Mania

Take a look at this list right here, and tell me what you see:

Matthew McConaughey, Jessica Alba, Nicole Richie, David Spade, Jodie Sweetin, Alessandra Ambrosio, Jessica Sierra, Jamie Lynn Spears, Jennifer Lopez, Nicole Kidman, Britney Spears, and Halle Berry.

No, that isn't a list of people planning to get high behind the middle school later, it's a list of people who are set to become parents in the next 9 months. Yes, that's right all of the above people were Hollywood delinquents or scandals at one time or another and they're all about to be parents. The horror.

Have all of the condoms and contraceptives in the world staged a mass exodus from Hollywood? Is there super sperm in the water? Scratch that, celebs don't drink tap water. They're probably adding a double shot of fertility in with everyone's lattes and frapps at Starbucks. Someone stop the madness! Tyra, Dr. Phil, anyone! Someone hit Robertson armed with rubber gloves and craft scissors and get to snipping! There is no way this planet will be safe with the spawns of Matthew McConaughey and David Spade among others roaming around high and shirtless.

The world ain't safe! I'm telling you, this is not going to end well. Either these kids are going to band together and put Casey Worthington to shame or Brangelina's brood is about to get twelve kids deeper.

A word to the wise: If you live in the Western portion of this country, run. Run for your life. It's about to get ugly! Don't say I didn't warn you.

Blohan Slips Up

Well that didn't take long, did it?!

TMZ has some pretty clear-cut footage of Lindsay Lohan slipping up on her so-called 'sobriety.' It's a pretty clear shot of LiLo sipping the good stuff straight from the bottle. Trainwrecks can only be good girls for so long, and it looks like Linds' trainwreck status is back in full effect. Do I see another trip to rehab in her future? Let's hope so.

It gives me great joy to think that TMZ may have captured the very first sip of a long downward spiral in Ms. Lohan's life. Someone give those guys a raise!!!

It's gonna be a happy new year!

UPDATE: TMZ received word from Lindsay's lawyers who said: "The good news was that Lindsay stopped herself that night, called her sponsor, and got herself immediately back on track. There is no magic cure here. The most unfortunate part of this is that Lindsay has to share her 'one day at a time' with the entire world." That's not good news! No, no, no! No back on track, no 'one day at a time,' only passing out in SamRon's car at 2am! Come back to us, Lindsay of yore, we miss you!