Hollywood: The Good, The Bad & Why Celebrities Feel the Need to "Leave" It

Why do celebrities constantly need to “leave” Hollywood? What's so bad about being famous and adored by an international audience? The millions of dollars in the bank? The McMansions? Beverly Hills? The Starbucks and the Chanel? Something, apparently, because a lot of celebrities want to distance themselves from their fame.

Whether it’s Justin Bieber's recent move away from LA to the Atlanta spaceship house or Miley Cyrus telling W magazine that she rarely leaves the confines of her Hollywood Hills mansion, there seems to be a recent trend of celebrities publicly retreating from the Hollywood spotlight. The push-pull relationship between celebrities and their stomping ground can be hard to understand or feel sympathy for. These people are famous, rich and living some of the most privileged lives in the entire world. You'd think they could show a little appreciation. But no, most famous people struggle with fame at some point in their career and can be found complaining to magazines about the lack of privacy, the gruelling work schedule and the unwanted attention. But without Hollywood and all it stands for (fame, fortune and fans) where would these celebrities be? It seems to be a black and white dichotomy: celebrities either gripe about wanting to be able to sing or act without having their every move publicly documented or they're the ones tipping off the paparazzi to let them know they're at The Grove fully made up with a Starbucks in hand. There is no question: without fans famous people wouldn’t be able to do what they do. If no one watched the movies, TV shows and listened to pop music there would be no Hollywood. If we, the public, lost interest in celebrity culture the famous people would stop making millions and wouldn't have the "problem" of being famous anymore. The thing is, fans want paparazzi photos, the celebrity instagram and twitter accounts, TMZ and reality TV shows. We love having a window into the lives of the rich and famous because we love to imagine ourselves being the ones riding through the Hills in a Range Rover.

The Infamous Britney Spears & K-Fed in their Range Rover
Source: Photo Shelter/Google Images

Most recently, Alec Baldwin has decided to step out of the public eye. How did he go about doing this? By looking dashing on the cover of New York Magazine and writing a 5,300 word essay, of course. Alec Baldwin is a fan favourite; I loved him in 30 Rock and It’s Complicated and recently saw him in To Rome with Love. There is no question; he is a well-known and respected actor. But, we also remember the horrible voice mail that went public in which the world heard him berating his daughter and calling her a pig. I know I for one won’t forget that or forgive him for it. Can we separate a potentially awful human being from an amazing, natural acting talent? Can the two exist simultaneously or should he be shunned for his behaviour? Does he get to choose to leave the lime light and stop talking to the media? Will the paparazzi say "hey, jeeze, this guy wants to be left alone" or will they start targeting him ever more now because the photos will be harder to get (and hence more valuable to tabloids)? As they pointed out on Monday’s episode of the Canadian talk show The Social Baldwin’s wife was a media correspondent before they were married and she regularly instagrams photos of herself doing yoga poses around New York City. Will she end this attention seeking behaviour and retreat from the public eye too or is this just Alec Baldwin's thing?

Source: Vulture/NY Mag

Interestingly, Baldwin stepping out of the lime light comes right on the heels of his “nemesis” Shia Labeouf’s equally public regression from fame. Baldwin and Labeouf were set to appear together on the Broadway show Orphans but “Labeouf abruptly quit … due to “creative differences” (that is, he couldn’t get along with Alec Baldwin, according to reports)” (TIME). Labeouf then tweeted a photo of his e-mail apology to the cast and crew. And so, the first online documentation of Labeouf's rampant plgarism was born: the e-mail was copied directly from Esquire’s article “What is a Man” (Eqsuire). 

After the Esquire article, the public realized that Lebeouf is a bit of a plagiarism expert. Fans pointed out that he plagiarised his directorial debut HarryCantour.com, which was screened at the 2012 Cannes Film Festival, as it is an almost direct representation of a graphic novel by Daniel Clowes. Unfortunately, embarassingly, he then also plagiarised his apology about the Clowes plagiarism from Yahoo answers tweeting: “copying isn't particularly creative work. Being inspired by someone else's idea to produce something new and different IS creative work“ which can be compared to the yahoo answer “merely copying isn’t particularly creative work, though it’s useful as training and practise. Being inspired by someone else’s idea to produce something new and different IS creative work“. He then tweeted more apologies derived from apologies of other famous people including Tiger Woods, Kanye West and Mark Zuckerburg (see the full list and a comprehensive breakdown of Labeouf’s plagiarism on TIME website). Labeouf then wore a bag over his head on the red carpet that said “I Am Not Famous” (reminding people of Sia’s Billboard cover also pointed out in the TIME article). At this time he also started walking out of press conferences.

Source: NY Daily News

Labeouf started tweeting “I AM NOT FAMOUS ANYMORE” every day for a month in conjunction with a performance art/apology session called #iamsorry in LA where “people are told to choose an object from a selection that includes a whip, Transformers toys, Hershey's Kisses, a pair of pliers and a bowl of notes containing Twitter comments about LaBeouf” (NY Daily News) before sitting directly across from him where he is apparently seen crying and wearing the bag over his head. This of course is reminiscent of Marina Abramovic's famous performance piece The Artist is Present. All of this behaviour also reminds us of Joaquin Pheonix’s erratic public behaviour and performance art for the film I’m Still Here. I Am Still Here commented on some of the complexities and negativities of fame. It’s still up in the air as to whether Labeouf is having a very public breakdown or is doing all of this as performance art. James Franco thinks it's a little bit of both and wrote about it very eloquently in an essay for The New York Times (The New York Times). 

No matter what side you find yourself on, it’s a fact that Labeouf has spent most of his life in the spotlight and may be a product of "child star syndrome". This doesn't excuse his behaviour or plagiarism, but it does explain why he may not be that different from other struggling child stars like Amanda Bynes, Lindsay Lohan or Macaulay Culkin. Labeouf has made a successful transition from child star to adult actor, something many young stars struggle to do, and up until this point has seemed to be fairly well acclimatized to fame. Labeouf had a very rough family life growing up (his deeply troubled father reportedly once put a gun to his son's head) and he has overcome his past to accomplish a lot for himself. Does this information make us feel sympathy for him or do we simply expect more from him as a functioning adult? Do we accept his apologies? Would we allow him to retreat from fame like Baldwin wants to do? What if he wasn't a actor but an author or painter... how would the conversation change?

Personally, I’m torn. I respect art for art’s sake and understand where James Franco is coming from in his essay. I studied performance art and appropriation in Art History. I respect that people like Jay Z don’t want paparazzi photographing their daughters. I also respect celebrities like the Kardashains who not only handle fame but love it and use it to their advantage. Maybe Hollywood is corrupt and awful to live with, but certain celebrities seem to live out of the spotlight more successfully than others. Where you live, where you go, what you do and who you hang out with, just like our very normal lives, will directly impact your notoriety as a person. The levels of fame and paparazzi shots that celebrities deal with on the day to day is a direct representation of the lives they live. Maybe Baldwin and Labeouf should retreat from the public eye but if they do I hope they're willing to give up fame altogether and pass the torch on to the next young aspiring actor.

Book lovers VS English majors: the Ultimate Faceoff

So maybe I'm hoping this post will light a few fires, piss a couple readers off. Maybe it's February and I'm bored and lookin' to pick a fight. I'm hopped up on a dinner of PB and ice cream and I DGAF.
I'll just up and say it: I'm an English major, not a "book lover". To me, there's a palpable, distinct difference. Both are OK, I guess. There are worse things you could be than a book lover. But I know what side of the line I'm on.
Let's see how book lovers and English majors duke it out.

Breaking the spine:

If you're a book lover, you cringe. You won't like the lines it makes on the outside of the spine, because it "wrecks" the cover picture or obscures the title. Maybe it makes the book feel floppy in your hands, and you fear that pages will fall out quicker because the spine has been cracked.
If you're an English major, you crack your spines the second you get the books in the door. You've got shit to do, woman! You're used to reading intense amounts on tight deadlines, and you don't have time to pry open tight, inflexible books. You needy our books to lie open on the desk in front of your laptop among your research materials, highlighters, and pencils so that you can get the right quotation for your paper.

Writing, highlighting and underlining on the pages:

Again, book lovers FREAK OUT over this. They like pristine, brand new pages without "ugly" marks on it.
English majors? Appalled at "blank" pages. I kid you not, I was kicked out of class when my book we were reading for post-colonial wasn't marked up. Why? Because the prof could tell that I either hadn't read it, or I hadn't read it closely enough. I don't care that I've graduated; I don't care that the prof isn't inspecting my pages. There's always a pen or pencil on my ear while I read-- even if just to underline a pretty passage.

Dog-eared pages:

I've actually had a friend lend me a book and specify "please don't dog-ear the pages." Of course, I respected her wishes, but Christ. An English major practically has a dog earring system! I know I do: I dog ear the nearest corner (top or bottom) closest to the quotation I want to be able to find again on the fly. It's not always convenient to have a bookmark: they fall out, they get lost, sometimes they're bulky. Dog earring is a surefire way to remember what page you've left off.

Hardcovers VS paperback:

Now, I don't mind a good hardcover when one falls in my lap, but as a rule, English major don't covet them. They're bulky and heavier to carry around. For English majors, books are trophies no matter what shape or size they are; being a fancy hardcover doesn't make that book any more "read" or any more of an achievement. People who obsess over hardcovers are just itching to put the book on display on their shelf and show it off.

New VS used:

Again, book lovers are all about the aesthetics of the book: is it shiny and pretty? Does it have a dust-jacket? Avoid all unsightly rips and bends! English majors, used to buying dozens of books per term, are all about the used books. Hell, I practically keep my local used bookstore in business all on my own. At the end of the day, a book lover is concerned about how the book will appear when it becomes a part of the decor; an English major is just in for the read.

Lending VS Hoarding:

This one's a toughie. I can see some book lovers being too prissy to lend their books out. But I'm sure there are tons of generous ones too. Personally, I enjoy spreading the love-- but don't forget to return them! A colleague once asked why I cared so much about getting my book back; if I'd already read it, why did I "need" it returned? At the time I was perplexed an gave no answer. But now I know why: I like to re-read shit. And I like the re-read stuff with my notes in it. That battered $2 paperback of A Tale of Two Cities? The only copy in the entire world with MY notes in it!

Now, we can't all go to university and study literature; we kind of need engineers and math teachers and all that jazz. But I don't think a diploma is necessarily what makes you an English major. It's about knowing that "beat up" really means "well loved" and "falling apart" really means "has had a good, long life." I treat my books like I treat all my material possession; even how I treat my body. These things are meant to be used, stretched, challenged, bent, broken, scarred, tested. Nobody ever created anything to be under a cloche or hidden away. "Special occasion" gear? Every day is a special occasion! Right now, I'd like to quote from G. K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy about every day miracles and appreciating life; but I can't because my broken-down, dog-eared book with the highlighted, flagged, and underlined quotes is back at the other house!

My single girl's Valentine's Day

It's every romantic's favourite time of year, when chocolate prices sky rocket, overpriced flowers sell like hotcakes and Tiffany's sales reps make enough commission to buy a small country, or at least an island. Unlike my two lovely counterparts, I have yet to find a man smart enough to realize the complete radiance of my awesomeness. But that's their (the entire male species') loss really. So this Valentine's Day, do I find myself watching The Notebook beside a nearly-empty tissue box crying "Why God why?!" Surprisingly, no.

When I was in high school, this was the most dreaded of all days by single girls like myself. Walking down the hallway and seeing at least three to four couples every five minutes exchanging gifts and whispers in the not-so-secret locker corners was enough to make one want to run to the nearest bathroom and vomit, and then proceed to cry a pool of why-doesn't-anyone-love-me-like-that tears. A girl without a flower in hand was very noticeable, and easy game for that "oh you must be so lonely" pity stare, a look that was enough to make you think you should be feeling lonely, even if you didn't.

Because Father Time is a good man, I am no longer in high school which means two things: one, I no longer have battle the daily teenage torture that dictates girls who don't have boyfriends should just kill themselves, especially on Valentine's Day; and two, I have matured enough to realize that being single is far from the end of the world: yes, even on this, the day meant for love.

But what constitutes love is more widespread than our friends in the media care to promote around this time of year. Today, my mom bought me flowers. Not because she feels bad that I don't have a man to get me roses, but because (shocker!) she loves me. She used to get me and all of my siblings chocolate or plush flowers, despite the fact that one of my sisters has been with her now husband for over a decade. And even though my first words to her were a mocking "wow I feel pathetic", I was actually really touched that she thought to do that. My mom and I have been through a lot over the years, but she's still one of my favourite people and I tell her I love her everyday, not just on February 14. That, to me, is Valentine love, too.

And here's the point where I include single girl cliche: today, I am my own Valentine, because I do love myself. And cliche though this might seem, for me (and probably so many other women) it's a huge accomplishment. I was never a girl that fit the mould of what society dictates is picture perfect, mostly because I've always had a weight problem. I was never bullied or mocked in high school, but I have always been my biggest critic in regards to my academics, my appearance, and pretty much everything else. Everyone who has been through it knows in hindsight that insecurity only gets magnified in the high school atmosphere, and I was no exception. It took me a long time to find my own value, my own beauty (internally and externally), my own voice. Going away for school played a large part in helping me discover a love for myself, and since I've found it, I don't plan on going back.

Maybe I'm bordering on vanity here, but I really like who I am. I'm no longer afraid to share my opinions (please see this post). I actually, finally, know and believe that being single is not my "fault"; it's not something that constitutes "fault" at all, nor is it something of which I should be ashamed. Would I like to have someone, someday to share this day with? Yes. Do I feel like I've failed because I don't have someone now? No. And I don't sit in my dark corner casting spells and curses at people in love. One of my closest friends recently got engaged, and I couldn't be happier for her. I'm not angry or bitter or any other of those cynical things single girls are supposed to be when their friends find happiness in love largely because I know that I am not even close to being ready for marriage. I may not be for another decade or so. And that's ok.

So tonight, I'm not going for dinner with a significant other; I'm ordering in dinner with significant others (my mom, sister and brother-in-law--who are choosing to celebrate tomorrow). And instead of The Notebook, I might bond with my mom over an episode of Gilmore Girls (though I wish we were that cool) or watch an episode of Suits (because whether or not he knows it, Mike Ross is my second Valentine). This Valentine's Day, whether you're in a relationship or not, remember to take some time to love yourself. Because you're wonderful and unique, and you deserve it. I sure do.

Gotta book it lovers,

JEM

The Least Lame List of Affordable Valentines Day Ideas Ever Written

You can tell how romantic I am based on the title of this blog. I’m sick of all the articles about “rekindling the romance” and the ideas are like rent a tandem bicycle or eat strawberries dipped in chocolate. No one does that shit. Plus, it's like -40 in Canada so no one really wants to do anything let alone fall off a two person bicycle into a snowbank. Like many recently graduated twenty-somethings we're on a bit of a budget this valentines day but refuse to miss out on any of the spontaneity or romance of the day.

If you can afford this you're in the wrong place
Source: We Heart It

Although we don't stand for this bullshit either
Source: We Heart It

Here at WTD we've decided to find the perfect combination of thoughtful and affordable, cute and creative: we decided to have a date night on a dime brainstorming session for our own benefit as much as yours this Valentines Day. I’m sure some of these ideas will be lame but in my opinion it’s almost impossible to write about Valentine’s Day without being lame. The consensus here at WTD is that Valentine’s Day isn’t about buying marked up chocolate and Hallmark cards however if you have someone you love you should probably do something this v-day because NOT making an effort says a lot more than making one does… if you catch my drift. Ladies and gents take note: we all agree  a simple love letter would have us swooning this Friday. So remember, cute trumps corny and a little gesture can go a long way. Feel free to weigh in on our free and low budget V-Day ideas in the comments or on twitter @jemcolborne.

Sentimental Gifts 

• a framed photo of the two of you
• print the photos from a trip - no one makes photo albums anymore
• a scrapbook
• a love letter
• a poem/song/short story
• a copy of their favourite book with an inscription from you inside

DIY & Crafty Gifts 

•  make a set of homemade mugs with quotes from his/her favourite book/movie/song 
•  make a cookbook (paper in a simple binder works) with all of your fave recipes
• a jar full of pieces of paper, each with a reason why you love them or a memory and they can pick one out of the jar every day or whenever they need it
• a jar full of popsicle sticks, each one with a different date idea on them for future dates:
  i. white popsicle sticks = inexpensive date nights (i.e. rom-com night, hot chocolate date night, dance to our fave album in the kitchen date night)
  ii. pink popsicle sticks = moderately expensive date nights (go out for dessert, go to a local hockey game etc)
  iii. red sticks = expensive dates (go to fancy restaurant, river cruise, museum etc) 
• buy that movie they've been dying to see that isn't on netflix yet and watch it at home!     

Food Gifts

• a jar of his/her favourite candy corn or homemade chex mex
• can you say Valentines Day baking: cookies, cupcakes, cake, squares…. mmmm
• a "spluge" food item from a gourmet shop
• despite the fact that I made a dig at it, you can never go wrong with chocolate (good chocolate, that is) try to pick out your s/o's favourite kind

 Out & About Gifts

• if you can't afford to go out for dinner this year go out for a drink before heading home for dinner; you'll get the enjoyment of going "out" without the bill at the end of the night
•  go for a nighttime walk (if you can - I know, the snowbanks are high) there's nothing more romantic than unfiltered conversation under a starry winter sky
• find a public skating rink. I realize this verges into "tandem bike" territory but skating is fun and wintry and oftentimes free!
• go into a store of your choice together and set a price limit. Buy each other the best gift you can "under pressure": it might end up perfectly or hilariously but either way no one overspends.
• go for coffee at a nice coffee shop (skip Timmies on v-day)

Oh and if you don't get what you want, or you're single? We have absolutely nothing against:

Source: We Heart It

The February Novel

In late January, there was a rare gathering of friends from all across Ontario and Quebec. We managed to squeeze in almost a full 48 hours together before the grown-ups had to return to their jobs and the "adult children at home" had to get back to their fruitless job hunting. It was a magical weekend; we often see one another one-on-one, but for almost the whole gang to be in the same room again was intensely special.
We weren't what I'd call a "dorky" crew during our undergrad days; sure, we did well at school, but we also drank like fish and smoked and passed out in weird places and dated hot heart-breakers. Normal BA stuff.
But as we sat around in my bud's living room, getting progressively drunker on cheap beer and even cheaper wine, the conversation - which had started with normal catching up- quickly took on a literary tone.
It was probably one of the most genuine, enthusiastic talks I've ever had with this group and that's saying something, because this crew consists of some of my very best friends. Everybody- guys and girls- just wanted to talk about what they were reading now, what they'd read back then, which books were going to make great movies, and what they'd write if they had the chance. Keep in mind, only one of us there (me) is a self-identified "writer". We were a motley crew of history majors, education majors, sociology & poli-sci double majors and one long English major. Who woulda thunk we'd come together over books?
Anyway, the drinks kept flowing and some revelations were revealed. Apparently, a lot of us used to write when we were younger. I didn't share with the gang that I had just recently tossed all my high school notebooks, including the 350 hand-written page notebook.
But at some point between the fourth and fifth glasses of Red, one of my adorable teacher friends piped up: "Hey! We should all write novels in February!"
And so a pact was made: we would each shoot for 1,000 words a day, from February 1-28th, resulting in a short novel approximately 28,000 words long. At the end of the month, we'll share our novels with each other. So I should have four novels to read by month's end.
We're now seven days into February and most of us admittedly are rather behind. Personally, I only have about 1,300 words so far. BUT I'm loving actually writing again. My brain is constantly churning, searching for inspiration, filing away ideas for later... it's like a winter miracle. In fact, I'm rushing this post a little so that I can procrastinate on job hunting and get writing again! I might even enter the draft in a contest or something, if it holds up after editing. If not, at least I got my writer's mojo back.
If you want to write a February Novel: it's not too late!
1. Don't waste time comparing ideas, paralyzed by the thought of "choosing the wrong one". Just pick something and go with it.  I was afraid to write a cop novel because I thought I was limiting myself with the genre. I was also worried about writing something that the guys wouldn't want to read. That was just an excuse to not get started earlier.
2. Just write; don't edit. Some people are getting bogged down thinking their words are crap-- that's not the point of the exercise. In this case, we really are going for quantity not quality. Because as a writer, you're your own worst enemy.
3. Set a reasonable goal, like say 500 words a day. Don't beat yourself up if you miss a day-- and don't stop if you're on a roll!
4. Do it with someone! A lover, a friend, your book club. You'll need someone to hold you accountable, and I am literally SO STOKED to read my friends' novels. This is definitely a project that's meant to be shared.
5. Tweet, instagram, pin and let us know how your own #FebruaryNovel is coming along.

Gotta book it
xox
JEM

A problem of Olympic proportion

Today is February 6th aka the start to the 2014 Winter Olympics aka something I wait for excitedly every four years. Maybe it's because I am a proud Canadian, or maybe it's because this year we are buried six feet under large snow mounds, but there is just something about the Winter Olympics that I find so much more enticing than the Summer Games. It could be luge, which is kind of awesome in itself, or my love of the movie Cool Runnings which taught me to always support the Jamaican (and other) bob sled teams. It could quite also be my love of all things hockey and the fact that my in-my-dreams-future-husband Sidney Crosby is wearing the big "C" for Team Canada this year. Yes, the Winter Olympics are a magical time, but it seems like this year all the hype for athletes and patriotic support are being overshadowed by a lot of controversy surrounding the games' host nation.

Sochi, Russia: the town name that nobody is quite sure how to pronounce. Is it So-long O-chi? So-short O-chi? Does the chi sound like chi-de or more like key? It's all very confusing. Oh, and then there's that whole thing where Russia seems completely and openly averse to homosexuality and LGBT culture in general, which is considerably problematic when many of the athletes participating in the games either identify as LGBT or know someone close to them who does. Furthermore, the Olympics is a global event that invites all nations to unite in friendly competition, and it is decidedly discriminate to include only countries' straight athletes. But of course, Sochi and Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin did not uninvite the homosexual athletes of the world; rather, they would just make it known that these athletes are not whole heartedly welcome.

When a visiting reporter recently asked the mayor of Sochi how these anti-gay attitudes affect the homosexual community in Sochi, the mayor replied "There are no gay people here", to which the reporter bluntly replied, "I went to a local gay bar last night." The choice to be ignorant is of course open to each person individually, but that choice reaps serious consequences when professed and promoted on the global stage at an event as publicized as this. Since the anti-gay mentality of such influential Russian leaders has come into the media light, many people have decided or strongly considered boycotting the Olympics in support of the LGBT community.

The scandals have been continuing to mount though, as in the last week leading up to the start of the games Sochi has also been sited as guilty of animal cruelty. Several stray dogs were seen wandering, starving and sickly, around various Olympic arenas, and when asked about why the city has not made more of an effort to find homes or shelters for the poor animals, Sochi officials' responses were equivalent to an elusive "what dogs?" Disturbing rumours are also circulating that the dogs are being merely "disposed of" and I shudder to even think on what that could mean. A nation that so blatantly ignores the needs of suffering creatures does not exactly present the best front for an event whose purpose is to promote global talent and capability.

So what does a Winter Olympic and sports fan, like myself, do in this situation? Do I take the road of so many in boycotting the games altogether? I feel like there's yet another side to consider.

The athletes...what about the athletes? These men and women who have trained ridiculously hard all of their lives in the hope that one day they might represent their country on the global stage of the Olympics. They who represent the best the world has to offer in competition, and had no say in what country hosted the games or what that country's politics might be. Those athletes who, unlike the NHL's hockey players, wait four years at a time to show the world what they can do. Are we to abandon them so nonchalantly? There's that pesky Canadian spirit inside me again that says no. Because the Olympics are not just about the host nation and what they might do right or wrong in such a position. It's about the hard working participants who come to seek national glory and pay their patriotic due in making their country proud. And they deserve an audience. If for nothing else, to show the power and determination of those countries who value the rights of all people and animals, whose politics aim to be far from ignorance and discrimination, and watch those countries crush the ones who still abide by hatred and inequality: a competitive triumph and a symbolic one.

Do I fault people who choose to avoid the Olympic Games this winter? Not at all. But I for one will be watching. Why? Because of Canadian athletes, Canadian sportsmanship, Canadian patriotism, Canadian politics, Canadian equality. They deserve it.