Richie Rich to the rescue!

Well, I think it is safe to say that given it has been more than a week between posts, I’m as on it as TMZ! But since I am essentially just talking to myself right now, my guilt isn't exactly keeping me up at night (unlike my job, that is.)

And on that note, I wanted to update my loyal readers (all 3 of you) on what was supposed to be my second date with Miss Pamela. It's true, I loved her so much after our first meeting I felt the need to stalk her again - and just my luck, she was "expected" (there is a reason PR peeps use that word) to be at Mansion for bestie (or is it boyfriend?) Richie Rich’s fashion show. This may be as good a time as ever to admit that up until my first run-in with the “couple” during the Super Bowl, I had absolutely no idea who Richie Rich was. But, thank god for him because he was there to mend my broken heart after Pamela decided to leave her and her large boobies at home. Yep, that’s right – I was stood up like a cheap prom date…leaving me with an Axe flip cam and a sad face. I mean, my editor even had to run the same picture with my new story (subtext: You’re a loser, Liz).

Still, before I went home to grab the Ben & Jerry’s and vow to never again practice the Baywatch beach run in my red one piece, I did catch up with Richie who talked on and on about his muse. So, for him, I managed to grin and bare it while Mansion-goers bumped and grinded into me and the smoke machine practically blinded me (hey, I may be a nightlife writer, but I’m also not 23 anymore – and for those of you who don’t know Mansion - all I can say is, picture the biggest/craziest nightclub you have ever been to, then double it).

I'm glad I did, because Richie Rich’s new line “Tabloid Hero," which showcases celeb faces on the duds, still shone its way through the smoke screens. And admittedly, the line was actually pretty fun and a cool way to give a shout out to all the celebs who have been plastered (and blasted) across headlines nationwide (cue awkward silence while regarding I am that media).

Pam, if you are reading this (and I do count you as one of my three readers), I forgive you for standing me up. And, although your boyfriend Richie Rich kind of looks like he needs a few cheeseburgers and a day at the beach pronto – I see why you keep him around. He definitely saved your ass from a bad headline!

Pamela Anderson doesn't F around (well, in interviews anyway)

I meant to have this post up on my birthday, but I am old - and old people tend to forget things. But it hasn't been a week yet which means I still have time to commemorate my birf-week post to Miss Pamela Anderson, who was definitely one of my favorite interviews to date.

I met stalked Pam (and yes, I just called her Pam off the jump - get off me) at Club Play during Super Bowl week. And I mean, I literally sat outside her dressing room while she downed champagne and got her make up done for maybe two hours. (I didn't say the experience of getting this interview was my favorite).

But on a side note, while waiting I also met Peter - a nightlife photog whom I now see regularly on our shameless nightlife escapades - whose crew Red Eye Productions shoots everything in Miami, and I mean everything. Seriously, I am in complete and utter awe of them. Anyway, I digress - the proverb Peter bestowed upon me is quite possibly one of the best sayings for media life I've ever heard - and it may be well known - but it just sums it up so well: "Hurry up, and wait." Those looking to pursue a career in media (particularly celeby stuff) - know this: no truer words were ever uttered. You will literally rush to make it to any call time, event, red carpet, then wait for hours sometimes until the celebs decide to step foot on it. But who wants to be the asshole who comes late and misses it? Exactly...the whole thing is a VERY effective Catch-22.

So, before Peter and and I were literally ready to barge in Pamela's dressing room, knock the bubbly out of her hand, and begin snapping and asking away, she appeared -- with her gay BFF (and featured designer of the night) Richie Rich in tow.

Now, I know it has been a while since her days of saving lives in her red one piece bathing suit, but my first impression was: those years in the sun (or what have you) haven't been so good to her. But on the other hand, who's to say any of us will look that sexy (or even think we do) after popping out two kids? Plus, while she may be a bit of train wreck, she is a total bad ass. And not only because her two kids are named Brandon and Dylan (it is still killing me that I forgot to ask her if this was because she was a massive Beverly Hills, 90210 fan like me) - but she is one of, if not the, only person I've interviewed thus far who cut the bull shit entirely. No media trained answers, just the raw truth. Now, whether that was because I literally pounced on her the second her five-inch kitten heels stepped out the door is yet to be determined -- but frankly, I don't even care. She was cool with me thrusting my Axe flip cam in her face, and overall pretty honest and funny - and for that, she has my respect.

Check out the video of us essentially screaming at each other over the untziness going down at Club Play - and of course my signature awkward attempt to get personal - and tell me honestly: don't you love her a little bit more now?

Not even ROBBERS want my Axe Flip Cam

It was a sad day in the offices of Liz Newman last weekend. Two KEY members of my staff left me and didn't give any notice...but it wasn't exactly on their merit. My house was broken into, and my laptop (my new kick-ass Mac Book Pro) and Smokey Robinson (my Cannon that smoked when the flash went off - good luck pawning that one, assholes) were stolen.

It has been a week and I still feel completely naked. As you've read I am somewhat of a one-stop-shop - which means a writer, photographer and video/photo editor among other things - and such tasks require a computer that doesn't make me want to throw it across the room. Not to mention, I am literally on my laptop 15 hours a day minimum...so needless to say, this was a major hit.

But here is the only amusing part: my computer was sitting on my desk, along with Smokey and my Axe Flip Cam. And guess what was the only thing left sitting there when I went to survey the damage? Yep, the flip. No joke, I almost didn't believe it and literally laughed out loud (between my sobs, of course) when I saw it lying there next to the imprint of my beloved computer. The cops definitely thought I was losing it. But I just couldn't get over the irony - I mean, these punks even took my hot pink laptop case from Target, but not my flip cam with the big Axe label...unbelievable.

More good news, they didn't find my old iBook...bad news is, it sucks. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a computer snob but I basically drove a Ferrari for the past 8 months and now am back in a Chevy. A lot changes in five years when it comes to technology, and this thing can't keep up with me anymore. So readers (all three of you) unless you want to donate about $500 a piece to Liz Newman, Inc., looks like I am going to have to pray my Dad is feeling particularly generous this birthday (which thankfully is only two weeks away).

Until then, the real silver lining (or I guess in this case, the bold red and black Axe logo-lining) is I still have my Axe Flip so "Before The Axe"can live on (and still be legit). Unfortunately, I did lose a good amount of my celeb video interviews and pictures, but we will economise - and I will have plenty more soon. Hey, those damn hooligans may have taken my heart (in the form of a silver 17'' Mac Book Pro with a dent on the left corner if anyone sees it at a local pawn shop), but not my soul. Plus, if leaving the flip behind wasn't a sign there is a need for this blog, I don't know what is.

You're the one that I want...oooh, oooh, oooh (honey!)

"Olivia, over here!” “To the left please, Olivia!”

These were the sounds that echoed around the red carpet as me, my tiny cannon (who I now refer to as “Smokey” as it literally smokes when the flash goes off), and my flip tried to fight our way through the labyrinth of cameras and reporters all sandwiched in The Raleigh to stake out Olivia Newton John. Grease's leading lady was there hosting a Cure Breast Cancer Event (she herself, a survivor) -- and I was there in the hopes to, what else, flip her!

Now, don’t get me wrong, I still have trouble convincing myself I am somewhat a legit reporter / writer now (whatever that means), because more often than not it sure as hell doesn’t feel like I am. There are many reasons for this, which we have numerous more entries to get into. But this night marked the first time in which it hit me I am not the only one who has this mindset.

It all started at check-in, which went something like this:

Me: Hi, wow what a crowd you guys ha-- [red flag one: I now notice most journos don’t engage in small chit-chat with the list girls]
List Girl: name and outlet?
Me: Oh, Liz Newman…NBC Miami
List Girl: [looking around, puzzled] Where is your camera crew?
Me [fumbling to open my purse to display my flip, camera, tape recorder and pen & paper]: You’re looking at it.

[dead silence, followed by my nervous laughter]

Even though I was serious, I was just attempting to lighten the mood - which by the look of the list girl's face, and the fact I was then conveniently left off the list - didn't appear to be a success. Like I said, on one end I get it - I always think that I probably look more like a crazed fan than a writer / reporter. And another key thing that I’ve discovered often raises this red flag: I dress cute (or in my eyes, just appropriate) to these events. You may think that sounds normal, but almost NO other journo covering the event (unless on camera) does this. They are always in jeans, sweats, they don’t care – they are simply there to do their job (behind the lens) and dip. In fact, I am starting to think the sloppier you dress, the higher up you are. Meaning if the saying "dress for the job you want" is true, I am never going to get anywhere in this business.

Luckily, I used to do PR in Miami, and after some calls to my old crew (who thankfully rep The Raleigh now), finally made it onto the red carpet where I bull shitted with some of my new red carpet pals (you meet some great characters while you wait – more on that later, too) and shot some pics of John Secada, socialites, Bee Gee Barry Gibb (who gave me the stink eye for some reason), and of course, ONJ. But, I still hadn’t gotten what what I came for: a few words from Miss Olivia herself.

I was almost ready to give up after getting the “no interviews” hand from the PR peeps. But know this readers (whoever you are), this is the key to being a good nightlife writer: you will get the story...no matter what. So, what do I do next? Well, naturally - I convince my new BFF red carpet friend to literally run with me after Olivia. Yes, run -- sprint like a pack of wolves, so much so even the paparazzi followed our lead. I can hear it now: "follow those girls with the Axe flip and cardboard microphone...they clearly have no shame."

And we really didn't...but it paid off.

To our surprise, we got Olivia to stop and talk to us– right before she crosses the threshold (aka the guarded cabana). I almost froze because I certainly wasn’t expecting her to even turn around, but as soon as she did, I immediately think: I am I going to ask her the inevitable and heated question?

As you read with Kim K, this is a problem I constantly run into in my reporter role – one that quite honestly I need to just get over because news is news. But, even though blunt, I don’t particularly like making people feel uncomfortable – or bothering them in general. Who does? Because, c’mon -- I know what I wanted to ask her, and what the readers wanted to know. A little background: this was merely days after her ex-boyfriend - who everyone thought had died in offshore waters - had magically reappeared, raising the speculation that the whole thing was a scam for life insurance. So, naturally I find it hard to essentially ask, "So hey Olivia, enough about Grease, and of course this fantastic breast cancer benefit you're hosting – your ex-fiancé showed up out of nowhere -- after mourning him all these years, he isn’t fish food like you thought -- what’s up with that, huh?"

Nope, I couldn't do it – I was now officially 0 for 2. Instead I asked her about her upcoming spot on Glee – which by the way, I literally cut off my new BFF reporter friend (who is chatting with her about the touching breast cancer element) to ask. I panicked to get something in, and I just blurted it out. Seriously, check out the video – that’s me blurting.



Certainly wasn’t very Sandra Dee of me, but I know Rizzo would be have been proud.

The Hills were alive (and swatting!) with LC

Last week, we all said goodbye to The Hills. A phenomenon beyond belief undoubtedly -- young kids (who were already rich) that became Brangelina famous for, well, nothing. And subsequently, even richer. But just slap my ass and call me Stephanie Pratt -- I love the show, I do. I am one of the reasons these girls are famous, because I DVR it every week.

So needless to say, I was very excited when the opportunity presented itself to chat with ex-Hills star Lauren Conrad - who is on her second best-selling book. I'm not too proud to admit a little envy took over. As a writer, I also want to publish a book and this 24-year-old Laguna Beach girl - who became famous for her high school love triangle - already has two (bestsellers, to boot).

Not to mention, the fan club this girl has is overwhelming, which I immediately realized I underestimated when I arrived at Books & Books (side note: best place ever). Let me put it to you this way: the store owner informed me there were more people there to see her than when Bill Clinton read. And if this depressing statistic surprises any of you, remember, this is the same country that gets more votes on American Idol than in the presidential election.

So there I was fighting the massive tween crowd like I was at a Backstreet Boys concert circa ‘99 to get back to the storage room where they housed Lauren Conrad for interviews. That right there should tell you something -- the girl couldn’t even step out; she would have literally been mauled. We were forced to interview her Taliban ransom video style. The other groupies journos and I lined up outside the door (reminiscent of elementary classroom days), and entered one by one. When it was finally my turn, my first impression was: I loved her dress (no bull shit, the girl can dress). And unlike the scripted show, she herself was very natural and effortlessly pretty ...in the way you could have easily sat next to each other in 4th period math. I honestly felt that her and I would be friends (and I never would have screwed her over like Heidi). Speaking of which, the now overly busty blond was very off limits in this chat. We were all given a list of items we could not discuss, which included such subjects as LC's relationship with Heidi, Heidi’s plastic surgery scandal, and anything whatsoever to do with Speidi (Heidi and Spencer). In other words, no Heidi hob-nobbling of any kind.

Of course, this right off the bat wiped out about 50% of my questions so I quickly decided to go another route. And just when I started to ask how the ghostwriter she wrote this book differently, is when things turned into a bonafied Hills blooper reel. We eventually got it right - and aside from the list - there didn't seem to be a diva bone in this girl's petite bod. Still, the whole process was pretty comical to say the least, and definitely a little ironic -- welcome to "legit" reality television, LC:

Take one: Mid-interview the phone rang – we were in the storage room / office after all– LC laughed it off, and I re-started the flip.




Take two: phone rang again – this time, she rolled her eyes and said, “what is going on here?” (but in a very sweet, girl next-door way).



Take three: just about when I finally work up the courage to (awkwardly) start digging into her personal life - i.e. her hot My Boys boo - a bug flies around her head...as if there was a sign from above not to go there.



Annnnd done.

But at least I know LC & I have one "real" thing in common...fear of flying insects.

Close Encounters of the Kardashian Kind

Everyone has a first time story. First kiss, first time behind the wheel, and of course, the first time. Well, Kim Kardashian was the first celeb I ever Axe’d. Yep, I lost my virginity to Miss Kim K herself. And like most first times, it was a little awkward for the most part. Particularly on my end, of course, as I was the rookie in this scenario.

I have to admit, for a first time, I wasn’t overly nervous – I think it is primarily because I had never been a passenger on the Kardashian choo-choo train. To be honest, I thought they all seemed a little tranny-esq with their caked on make-up. And I am apparently not the only one who initially thought this. So, when my boyfriend included Kim K on his "list" - you know, the ones you are allowed to sleep with and don't think it couldn't happen (still, keep in mind Matt Damon married a Miami waitress) - I both laughed and breathed a sigh of relief.

Me: Really?
BF: Yeah, she is really hot and curvy
Me: You don’t think she looks like she just finished up her shift at a drag club?
BF: When’s the next shift?

He was there with me that night , but had to stay (I guess, conveniently for "the list's" sake) behind the ropes that blocked Kim's cabana after prepping me for my interview debut...which went something like this:

BF: Make sure to ask her if she and Reggie are planning on popping one out soon
Me: I can't ask that, it's so personal!
BF: Yes you can, it's your job -- and you think she hasn't be asked these things a million times? Me: They aren't even engaged yet!
BF [blank stare]: Who do you think you are interviewing, Donna Martin circa 1991? (note: 90210 references are the best way to make me understand)

After being rushed through the crowd of more legit cameras, I finally square up to Kim with Axe in hand. And similarly to when you are trying mask flopping boobs when doing the deed, I attempted to mask what I thought was my greatest flaw: the Axe logo on my flip cam. All the while, also trying to hide the fact I have no idea what I am doing and somehow forgot how to work a flip cam - I was completely zoomed in on her chest (for those who don’t have a flip cam, one button does practically everything – get it together, Liz).

Still, like a dream boyfriend who just said I love you after the prom (and not just to get me into bed), Kim coaxed me through it and didn’t bat one of her Mascara-caked eyes in judgment - even when she caught a glimpse of the large black and white logo itself: She. Saw. It. All.

And speaking of flaws, I will be the first to openly admit when I am wrong: the woman has none. I stand corrected -- she is drop dead gorgeous. So much so, I was even taken aback a little when I first saw her – “wow, you are hot and curvy!” I thought in my head…quickly followed by, “oh shit…how do I work a flip again?"

BF managed to snap a pic of me in action - which I quickly noticed by my body language (hands on chest) that I was in fact incredibly nervous. Likely due to a combo of me trying to convince myself to "drop the axe" so to speak on Kim with the preggers questions (which I did....sort of) and realizing, wow -- I do kind of want to "keep up" with these girls now.

So even though they always say don’t tape your first time…my line of work left me no choice. Try not to judge.