Thursday, July 23, 2009

Paris, Not France.

The Paris premiere was nuts. It was a total madhouse and I loved every second of it. Here's a rundown of it all:

I got to the MTV offices at 9am, and right off the bat, we were working on the press release, media alert, and finalizing the FOUR guest lists for the evening. And I had to mail a package to South Korea, but that's beside the point. So, it was a very busy morning. After a quick lunch with the other interns, we headed to the theater. We made it there at about three o'clock, and the premiere didn't start until seven. I thought there wasn't going to be a lot for us to do, but surprisingly we stayed pretty busy. We set up the press check in and VIP check in, and then had to rope off seats in the audience for the special guests coming that evening. The guests came from the four different guest lists, they were for Paris and the entire Hilton camp, Adria Petty (the director of the film) and her people, ISH Entertainment (the production company we partnered with to make the documentary) and MTV. We also had to leave some space for press that were attending, and of course, the “casted audience.” The term casted audience is basically a nice way of saying “If you're hot, you can see the movie, if you're fug, forget about it.” So there was about three hundred die hard Paris fans there as well. We had to be careful about where we placed certain people, and who we placed next to who. The whole thing was kind of like a word problem: “If you place two hundred entertainment industry assholes from four different categories into one theater, how likely would it be for a cat fight to break out before the end of the one hour film?” Hilarious.

Three of the interns were doing check in, and myself and my friend Lauren were doing celebrity escorts. By the time we had everything in order, press were checking in, and the paparazzi were already lining up. Before I knew it, it was seven o'clock, and Adria had already hit the red carpet. She took her mom as her date, how cute! Within fifteen minutes, the theater was flooded with directors, producers, club owners, and socialites. It was my job to seat them all, and they were all surprisingly nice. When Nikki Hilton came off the carpet (looking absolutely stunning, best dressed of the night for sure) I was explicitly instructed “stay with her.” So I did. She started getting mobbed by fans, and her publicist was casually asking them to step away and saying she wasn't doing pictures that evening. The fans weren't listening to him, at all, and while she was being kind to all of the fans and was taking it all in stride, she looked visibly uncomfortable. So I stepped in and said “GUYS, SHE'S NOT DOING PICTURES, YOU HAVE GOT TO BACK UP IMMEDIATELY.” I don't know when I went from intern to Nikki Hilton's handler, but I sure did. I eventually got her seated in the Hilton section, and she was nothing but gracious, so that was nice.

Sometime after this, we had to sneak Tom Petty in the back. No, seriously. His daughter was the director, and he wanted to come and see the film, but didn't want to be photographed on the Paris Hilton red carpet, go figure.

Next came one of my favorite parts of the night. Paris Hilton's “crisis manager” Elliot. Picture this: Sixty-five years old, four foot three, bright orange skin, and botoxed beyond all recognition. I mean, this man had deadened all of the nerves in his face so much that he wouldn't be able to show emotion if his life depended on it. He was quite effeminate in his perfectly white Versace suit that fit to a tee, and a Rolex that was covered in diamonds and weighed as much as he did. The man, as you can tell, is a complete character. When told that the concession stands were handing out free soda and popcorn, he responded “Well I'd really love a glass of white wine.” Girlfriend, wouldn't we all.

Next were members of the Paris entourage, and some people from BFF. All complete hot messes.

After seating Elliot and the hot mess parade, I stumbled back out onto the red carpet, and oh look, there was Paris. Dressed in a metallic silver Roberto Cavalli flapper dress, five inch heels covered in rhinestones, and dripping in diamonds. You'd think with having so much money, she wouldn't be so damn tacky. I guess it's true what they say, you can't buy class. As soon as she was off the carpet, we told everyone that they needed to take a seat. We escorted Paris to the front of the theater with Adria, who both said a few words and then they screened the documentary.

After, both Paris and Adria handled some Q&A, and then I had to walk Paris upstairs to do some one-on-ones with MTV News, E! News, and a few others. Here's where things got ugly. As I was escorting her down the isle to the back of the theater, a guy probably about my age, but much...bigger, got out of his seat and started clamoring over people in order to get Paris. In my head, I was like “UUUUUUMMMM...”, but was sure that security would handle it. Well, I thought wrong. This guy and his friend made it to her and started grabbing at her and asking for pictures and trying to kiss her and everything. Honestly, it was all kind of scary. Her manager and publicist stood back and sort of scolded the guy, but he was still being kind of aggressive, so, again, enter me. I literally had to strong-arm this guy off of her. Seriously, my waif ass up against this beefcake stalker, kind of intimidating, but I was too adrenalined out to really think about anything else but getting him off of Paris. After I got him to back off, security (of course they show up then) got him back in his seat. After that whole ordeal, I walked her up the stairs, I turned to her and said “I am sooo sorry about that.” and you know, as much as I would love to say Paris Hilton was a huge conceited bitch to me, I can't. She stopped, looked me straight in the eye and said “It's ok, it happens all the time. I'm sort of used to it I guess.” She smiled and told me I was doing a great job and thanked me. Ugh. Right? I hate to admit that she was kind, but I suppose I have to get credit where credit is due.

After her one-on-ones, at about ten o'clock at night, we finally got to leave. After a long day, no meals, being on my feet all day, and tweaking out on caffeine, it was great to be able to just go home and chill out.

The whole experience was incredible. It was so fast paced and intense, and I really learned so so much. So unreal.

I'm in a really good place right now. Last night after this all was said and done, my brother Mike told me that he was proud of me. I think that is the most meaningful thing I've heard all summer.

So, I'm seeing this band called Semi Precious Weapons in concert tomorrow night at The Viper Room. I'm so stoked. Here's a sample:
(I can't embed it this time, but you need to check that out)

Good feelings.

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