Moms, Boundaries and Hollywood Actors

Let me set this up for you. A few years ago, my Mom was on vacation in New York and saw Chris Noth (AKA Mr. Big) at a restaurant. As someone with little to no (okay absolutely no) boundaries, she went over to his table, sat down and told him she just "lovvvvvvvved Mr. Big" but that he should "stop treating Carrie so wishy-washy." Why he didn't call security is beyond me, but alas.

So cut to a few years later and my Mom has joined a Dallas film society which hosts advanced screenings of movies, followed by receptions with director/producer/actors. Some film came through and after flitting about the after-party, she settles upon actor Josh Lucas. Mind you, I thankfully wasn't there, but she relayed the play-by-play that I will now share.

Mom: "You were just precious in the movie."
Josh Lucas: "Thank you!"
Mom: "You have just the prettiest blue eyes! I bet people tell you that all the time."
Josh Lucas: "Oh sometimes…ya know…"
Mom: "You must have girls just hanging on your every word."
Josh Lucas: "Well, I…"
Mom: "My daughter is an actress in Los Angeles." (Note: not true)
Josh Lucas: "Oh?"
Mom: "Yes…and she's single. You should call her."
Josh Lucas: "Um..I…errr…"
Mom (starts digging around in her purse for her cell phone) "Let me just find her phone number for you." (Finds number and starts to write it down.)
Josh Lucas: "I'm not really a phone guy."
Mom: "Okay, well then let me give you her email." (She writes down my email.) "You better call her honeybuns. She's a catch."
Josh Lucas: "Will do."

My Mom then calls me later that night to tell me to "expect an email from Josh Lucas." I, mortified, tell her that's not going to happen and we wager a two hundred dollar bet.

For the follow-up to what happened with this insane exchange, tune in Monday!
Do you have similar stories of boundary-free parents or other insanity? Email them to me!

The Password Is...

Started the book tour for She's Crazy, He's a Liar in Ft. Lauderdale and was delighted at how gorgeous and nice everyone was. Really cool place with friendly, down-to-earth people and the perfect amount of glam. Ya know what's even more glamorous than East Coast beach towns? Venezuela, which is apparently where my cell phone went while I was in Florida. Let me explain. You see, apparently someone cloned my mobile phone (how, I don't know. I can't even get my iTunes to work). They figured out some kind of pin number and security code, programmed it and then off that "cloned" phone went, I suppose to shake hands with Hugo Chavez. (Side note: I heard Sean Penn give an interview where he said something like "Chavez was merely misunderstood by the U.S. media." I'd like Sean Penn to move down there for a few years or forever and then get back to me about how "misunderstood" Chavez is. Stick with "I am Sam", Sean…it suits you better.)

Anyway, so when I went to use my phone, a little automated voice came on and said "This phone is not recognized by us". (I wonder if when then cloners used it, they got a message that said "We totally recognize you. Tell Chavez hi.") A lovely stressed out medical student at the airport heard me say "What the F?" and asked if I needed to borrow his iPhone, which literally took me five minutes to dial. I told him, "Don't worry, this isn't an international call" and he, while clutching his book about the gastrointestinal system, said "I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore.")

Once I got my cell phone carrier people on the phone, they asked for my password, which of course I didn't know. So they asked my security question which was "What is your favorite hobby?" How was I supposed to remember what my favorite hobby was nine years ago when I set this thing up? Hmm, favorite hobby, favorite hobby. "Crying?," I guessed. I could hear the guy typing that into their database. "No, it's not crying," he said matter-of-factly. "Any other idea of what it might be?"

Hmm, what did I do on a regular basis that might be considered a hobby? I don't snowboard or knit or collect stamps. What is something I frequent? "Worrying?" I asked the guy. "You want me to try 'worrying' as your favorite hobby?" "Yeah, well, it's not my favorite, but it's something I do most often." He tried and it didn't work. I could tell that the stressed out medical student was getting antsy to put his phone away so I told the mobile carrier guy to let me have a few hours to try and figure out who I was in 2001 and I'd get back to him.

Turns out my early 2000s hobby was "Mai Tais", which has long since changed. However, "Mai Tais" seem to still be a favorite for whoever it was who also cloned my American Express card.

I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to email me thoughts or questions to: Shescrazyhesaliar@gmail.com