My foray into celebrity

Good news. A foreign man and a junior pageant winner asked to take a picture with me this weekend. Thus, I’m now a bona fide celebrity. Do they give out SAG cards for TV Makeover appearances? Also, should I get someone to update my IMDB page?

Sidenote: Don’t actually try to locate me on IMDB because you’ll come across an adult “actress.” Definitely is not me.

In case you missed it, I got a whole minute on national television. You can view the segment on www.hulu.com under Miss USA 2012. I appear just before the 6^th commercial break. Unfortunately, the video has not yet gone viral, so I can’t provide you a youtube link. I’m guessing I would have had better luck if it had aired closer to Miss Ohio telling everyone what an inspirational character Julia Robert’s plays in Pretty Woman. What better tale of ‘girl power’ is there than a hooker who marries rich?

I’ve finally recovered from my jet lag, who knew Vegas was Pacific not Mountain time? So I’m prepared to give a recap of the weekend’s events.

I will say that entering this contest I had no idea how big it actually was going to be. I was assuming a trip to the salon and a photo on a website. Instead it turned into a really memorable experience which will hopefully help me get on next year’s Bachelor if Emily dumps Arie and/or Sean.

So Maggie (my guest) and I arrived in Vegas. I had to get my photo credential since I was super big time. This is actually the first picture I had seen of myself with blonde hair other than the ones I took on my iPhone, where you hold the camera out MySpace style and then it flips the picture and I’m convinced makes you look distorted. Glad I waited till my roots grew out to take pictures. I’m always planning ahead.

That night we stood in a sketchy line to get half price tickets to David Copperfield. Let me tell you Totally. Worth. It.

I love him. Watching David Copperfield is similar to watching your friend’s dad do magic tricks. Except the ‘oooh that’s so embarrassing but sweet’ vibe gets washed away by the astonishment. Maggie and I spent a good portion of the rest of the trip turning to each other and just stating that we had no idea how he did that. That being his “Thirteen” trick that we later googled. I don’t suggest that, let the mystery live!

Sunday was filled with the pageant. They took me backstage early afternoon to do hair and makeup. It was SUCH great timing because I was able to watch the girls go by in their swimsuits for the dress rehearsal. Don’t be fooled, that was sarcasm. How in the world you can get that tiny and tall is beyond me. Rest assured that the spray tan is more noticeable close up though.

While backstage I met Akon. Well, met is kind of a loose term. Mostly everyone was talking about how that was Akon and Arianna (a fellow winner) and I approached him for a picture. I chose not to tell him that I would never have recognized him on my own. I also took a picture with another guy because everyone was acting like he was famous. If you know who he is let me know.

I’m sad to report that Joe Jonas and my paths did not cross (although totally looked over to make sure he was watching my segment while it played on the big screen). He seemed a little depressed to be there. The back story Maggie and I made up is this:

Joe’s Phone: ring ring

Joe: Hello?

Miss USA person (presumably Trump): Want to be a judge in our pageant? There are hot girls in bikinis!

Joe: Hot girls in bikinis?!?! Sign me up!!

A couple days later

MTV: Hey viewing public, my movie awards are tonight, tons of celebs are invited it’s going to be so fun, definitely the same night as Miss USA!

Joe: I want to go to that! I’m still a celebrity right? I should totally be there! I mean, I’m going to be on a reality dating show! Tons of high profile celebrities do that!

MTV: Ummm… yeah… you should totally come… we didn’t plan it for the same night as a way of protecting your feelings…

Joe: Awesome

Joe’s Mom: Joe, you gave your word, you have to judge the pageant

Joe: Mooooooooooooom

That was unnecessary and probably a little long, but you get my point. I’m assuming that he’s found love on his new dating show because he didn’t come up to me after seeing my makeover. Clearly it was just a case of bad timing.

For the show itself we were seated in a side section behind a group of diehard Miss Oklahoma fans. My favorite part of the evening might have been Dawn (3^rd contest winner’s sister) standing up and cheering for Oklahoma every time they did so she got on TV. I need to watch and see if she was successful.

They moved us up to the front row so we could wave at the camera after our spot played. It was during this time that I was sitting a section away from Trump and directly behind Ali Fedawhatsky, of Bachelorette fame, and Rob Kardashian, of who really cares fame. I told Ali I loved her; I didn’t explain that it was mostly because Ashley was such an annoying Bachelorette that she made you long for what you once had.

After they announced Rhode Island as the winner (weirdly enough there weren’t enough write in votes for me to come in and sweep the victory) we headed to eat dinner before the after party.

Maggie and I opted for a bar and grill that was replaying the pageant on at least 15 giant TV screens. This might sound vain, I think it was.

Anyway, we headed to the after party that was slated to start at 10. Thinking we were fashionably late we rolled up at 10:30. Only to find out that the doors didn’t even open till 11.

So we killed time by exploring the Venetian’s indoor canal and chatting with the cool production guy who picked us up from the airport and his fiancé. His name is Freddy Santana. Freddy. Santana.

We finally got in at 11:30. We scoped the area, accidentally tried to sit down in a VIP lounge, watched average Joe’s try to hit on pageant queens. Later we did the back and forth thing ‘well we could dance’ ‘we could people watch.’ Then we said what we were really thinking ‘my feet hurt and I’m tired.’ Don’t get me wrong, we totally stayed a respectable amount of time.

The next day we had more adventures including Cirque de Soleil and coming closer than ever before to getting our Mary-Kate and Ashley-esque vacation boyfriends. But I’ll include that and our airport troubles in the next post. That and our 10 minutes foray into gambling. Don’t worry, we picked up a ‘Knowing When to Stop’ brochure.

Demon eyes, I have better pictures coming later I promise.