Greetings from La-La Land!

Hey, people. In the words of prescient pop icon Rodney King, can’t we all just get along?

I’m referring, of course, to the mounting tension between the two unions in this town. Personally, I don’t know which one to root for. I mean, come on. SAG? What woman wants to be a member of something called SAG? Perish the thought! And AFTRA? Sounds like a bunch of burly butt-crack types if you ask me.

Politics. What a snooze-fest.

But don’t worry. A little war between Messrs. Hanks and Nicholson’s not about to distract me from the important task of the day…which is to decide on the perfect outfit for tomorrow!

I’m goin’ with what I call understated sexy. Professional, yet subtly alluring. A snap, really. And now that I’ve got that figured out, I’m off to scour the new issue of People for pix of Damien.

Stay tuned…



Greetings from La-La Land!

So Friday at the Ivy was a bust. One of the Brangelina Brats had a hang nail (or something equally lame) and the whole entourage evaporated before I arrived. Bummer.

But. . .guess what was on my answering machine when I got home? Drum roll, please!

And I quote: “Mr. (name redacted!) can meet with you on Tuesday at 10 a.m. here at the office. We look forward to seeing you.”

Squee! My interview with Damien!

(Pardon me while I get a good old-fashioned case of the vapors. . . . . . . . .okay, I’m back. Winded, but back.)

Just think. Approximately forty-eight hours from now, I'll be breathing the same air as Damien. Can you imagine?? Not only that, (here come the vapors again!) we'll touch for the very first time. I can picture it already. He'll rise from behind his desk...his eyes will light up with male interest...and when he extends his hand to shake mine, I'll allow the moment to linger a tiny bit longer than it should.

Stop right there, Sascha.

See, this is the tricky part--where the finesse of a seductress outscores the impulse of a rookie. The careful thing to remember is that when it comes to the war of love, victory is rarely achieved in the first battle, and instant gratification must often be sacrificed in favor of the short-term goal.

Yep. The goal on Tuesday, my friends, is the job, not the man. But trust me...It's only a matter of time.

Oh, crap. Speaking of time, I'm late. Gotta gussy up for the big to-do at the Malibu Pier tonight. Can you believe it's finally re-opening? And, please. We're talking MALIBU. Think of the celebs! Hell, they don't even have to fire up the Hummer--they can practically walk!

Hm. Maybe Damien'll be there!

Stay tuned...



Greetings from La-La Land!

The good news?

I aced the meet-up with his exec assistant—the one going on-maternity-leave (translation: early retirement). Like I said yesterday, we have a roundabout connection, so I dug up enough info on the chick for a separated-at birth-epiphany. (Knitting? What a coincidence! I just finished an afghan! Obscure eighteenth century poets? Love them!) Seriously. I don't know how this oddball snagged such a primo job in the first place.

Anyway, now for the bad news.

Not even a glimpse of HIM. Muy disappointing, but a minor setback in the scheme of things. As long as I advance to round two in the process, it’s all good.

By the way, to make things easier, I’ve decided to give HIM an alias. What do you think of Damien?

Oops. Gotta run. Tess just called with a Brangelina sighting at the Ivy, complete with a pack of paps frothing at their Nikons. What could be better on a Friday afternoon?

Stay tuned...



Greetings from La-La Land!

Stop the presses…I’ve got HUGE news. I mean, we’re talking bigger than huge. Ginormous, maybe.

See, in case you weren’t aware, getting ahead in Tinsletown is all about who you know…and, baby—my BlackBerry has names and numbers you wouldn’t believe. So I got a call this morning from Tess who heard from Zoe that Rachel Preston’s sister-in-law is preggers.

You know what that means, right?

It means HE’s gonna be in the market for a new assistant!

Hallelujah! Step right up! Interview time!

So I instructed Tess to get ahold of Zoe who in turn phoned Rachel Preston’s sister-in-law, and voila! A two o’clock appointment for tomorrow! (You didn’t think I’d go through personnel, did you? Come on. That’s a fast track to Rejection City.)

Anyway, cross your fingers!

And stay tuned…



In The Beginning...

Greetings from La-La Land!

Fasten your seatbelts…I saw him tonight!

Yes, savvy seductress that I am, I scored an invite to the premiere of Deathstar 2, the latest from the folks who brought you that stellar production, Deathstar 1. (Quelle horreur, people. Trust me. Wait for Netflix.)

Anyway, so I gussied up in my finest knock-offs and single-mingled in the lobby, hoping for a glimpse. Suddenly, there he was in all his Armani glory. Bond-like in a tux, the obligatory starlet tucked under his arm with lashes so fake her lids drooped from the weight of the glue, he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She responded with a silly schoolgirl giggle.

(Gag. Naivete and cleavage—not my favorite combo. Don’t get me started on the tacky number from Frederick’s. How thoroughly pathetic.)

Yet effective, y’know? For even as I watched, I saw the signs—the flirtatious smiles, the furtive winks, the private conversation—all prelude to the imminent sexual encounter. I know, because I study this behavior. I’m a master of this behavior. The dense little moron with a death-grip on her date could take lessons in seduction from moi.

(Hell, he’s a man…they practically seduce themselves.)

Ah, yes. There it was. The subtle disengaging from the crowd…the imperceptible swerve toward a side exit. Libidos taking precedence over a movie they didn’t care to see anyway.

No one noticed but me.

A moment later, they disappeared from view, swallowed by the labyrinth of hidden hallways leading back to their limo. Soon--maybe even en route to his palatial Hollywood estate--they'd strip off their clothes and engage in carnal frenzy.

He’d be hers tonight. Perhaps even several nights.

But I’m not worried. She won’t last longer than it takes for him to commit her name to memory.

Then it will be my turn.

Stay tuned…