Look. I’m a sucker for boy bands and anything 13-year-old girls like. I’m currently addicted to Carly Rae Jespen’s “Call Me Maybe” and have been known to watch Nickelodeon’s “iCarly” onDemand. Needless to say, as I was sitting at the bar at Birds in Franklin Village, catching up with the oh-so-dreamy Manish Dayal of 9021O fame and soon-to-be ABCFamily “Switched At Birth” fame (deemed “dreamy” by one of my BFFs, not me. Not that I don’t agree, it’s just, well, gushing on the boyish good looks of someone you’re actually friends with, in your blog post, will only make future hangouts awkward. Ack. I already feel awkward. Back to the blog post), my dear friend Priya alerts me to the fact that Joe Jonas is also in the same venue, noticed by none other than friend/The Dating Advice Girl, Erin Tillman (of course the DAG would notice the hot guy in the restaurant…who just so happened to be Joe Jonas).

Yep, Joe Jonas. As in Jonas Brother. Without the other two. The attractive one. The one who went solo and has collaborated with Lil Wayne. The one who also broke my girl-crush Taylor Swift’s heart back in 2008.

I swear we were making eyecontact from bar to booth. Perhaps because we wanted to, perhaps (more realistically) because I’m loud and make a scene and was wearing yellow (who doesn’t notice yellow?!) Anyway. I tried to be discreet, all the while whispering my excitement into my friends’ ears. “Eeeek, that’s Joe Jonas! That’s the guy who Taylor’s written many a song about, many a song that has helped me through my own personal dramas (see ‘Forever & Always’, ‘Last Kiss’, and ‘Better than Revenge’…)” After staring for a good 20-30 seconds, I attempted to discreetly take photos with my iPhone, with the hopes that one would turn out clear enough to Instagram. They didn’t.

The one in the grey hat. Eating an orange slice. Eeek.

Anyway. The reason I was even at Birds was for a post-show hang after my dear friend FI’s sketch show next door at Upright Citizens Brigade (FI stands for “Funny Indian”, who you may remember from the “Red Bull with Demi Lovato”,  Childish Gambino review, and “Eva Longoria @ Laugh Factory” blog posts.)  Why I need to mention this? Well. It was FI’s slightly-buzzed-self that initiated formal conversation with Joe Jonas, and allowed me to upgrade from a “stalker-photo-from-afar” to a “let’s-smile-and-pose-together” picture. And a story for this lovely blog.

FI: “Hey so, there’s no real way around the awkwardness of all this, so um my friend over there, SK, she wants to talk to you”

SK awkwardly approaches JJ and immediately enlists all the teachings of her 6 months of UCB improv training. They exchange names and hellos and all that jazz. Meanwhile, FI steps aside and chats up JJ’s friend.

SK: So um, I’m hungry, and really indecisive… and I noticed you eating here earlier. What would you recommend I get? What do you eat here?

JJ (chuckling, then deadpans serious face): Half chicken, coleslaw, BBQ baked beans, and most importantly, chipotle mayo.

SK: Chipotle mayo? Like, by itself? That doesn’t make sense. No one has chipotle mayo without a sandwich, right?

JJ: I have chipotle mayo on everything. I can even have it for breakfast. Eggs.

SK (heart melting): I LOVE chipotle mayo. I just have never tried it without….bread.

For some reason writing that aforementioned line eludes a sexual tone. But I promise, it’s not a euphamism.

JJ: So did you just perform?

SK: No no, I was just a spectator this time around. Actually watched my friend perform. He’s a comic.

I really should have invited JJ to my next improv show at UCB at this point, but I was focused on the chipotle mayo I’d be indulging in after the conversation wrapped up. As I’m thinking about chipotle mayo, FI interrupts my food fantasy to tell me about JJ’s friend…

FI: Dude! THIS GUY is from Ohio!

SK, slightly amused, and happy that FI found another ethnic brother from the Midwest, continues her chat with JJ

SK: So where are you from?

JJ: All over, I’ve lived everywhere

SK: What does that mean?

JJ: Arizona, New Jersey, Texas, here…now I live between here and New York.

SK: Oh wow, yeah that’s everywhere. Wait. Why both here and NY? Do you have a preference? Why can’t you pick one.

JJ: I love both places for different reasons. The pace of New York, the people here…

SK: Good point. But we undeniably have better weather. Anyway. Back to chipotle mayo…

JJ laughs. SK is about to continue said-conversation, when FI and JJ’s friend take over conversation

JJ’s friend: What does she do?

Pause. Because A) I hate the word ‘host’, B) I’m a former journalist, and C) I do too many random things to fully label it

SK: Um. I talk for a living.

JJ laughs

FI: She is…a…host. Hostess. She’s more than that, she –

SK: Ack! I hate that word, host. It makes it seem like I didn’t go to a prestigious 4-year-University and get a broadcast journalism degree.

Ooops! I said the word. JOURNALIST. I quickly keep talking, hoping to say enough words, hoping that my rambling will mask my mistake. In case you aren’t following, readers, “celebrities” don’t exactly like “journalists.”

JJ’s friend: Hey man it was nice meeting you, but we gotta go.

SK: It was nice meeting you. Thanks for deciding my meal for me.

JJ: Nice meeting you too!

FI takes a photo of us for Instagram, JJ and his friend leave

Alas, my moment with Joe Jonas ends, perhaps because they really had to leave, perhaps because I said the dreaded word “journalist.” I’ll never know. What I do know, however, is what Mr Jonas ate that night. And what I, in turn, ate as well.

See below:

Substituted the BBQ Baked Beans for Mashed Potatoes (Sorry JJ, your beans have pork in them)

Close-up of chicken since this place IS called Birds…

Chipotle Mayo so delicious, you'd remove your purity ring to hit it.

Big Becks & Brooklyn Becks

SCENE ONE: music school in Hollywood, specific location not to be disclosed for fear of stalkers

Samia is late to her 6:30 songwriting class due to LA traffic. She parks at a meter at 6:38 and fills it til 7:58, running out of coins and hoping a parking attendant won’t drive by and see a flashing “expired” light between 7:58 and 8pm.  She leaves meter, scurries through an alley, up some stairs, and goes through a doorway. Immediately, she spots David Beckham. Or at least a man who appears to LOOK like David Beckham.

SK (to herself in her mind): OMG, that guy is so hot. Wait. OMG. That’s David Beckham. OMG. That name makes him infinitely hotter. Ugh. Am I really wearing a sweatshirt with an oversized penguin on it?! Of all the effing days.

Samia quickly looks away as to not stare and finds a receptionist to address

Receptionist: Are you here for the songwriting workshop? Just sign in here.

SK (to herself in her mind): Does it look that obvious that I’m here for a songwriting session? Do I have ‘heartbroken’ written all over my face or something? How did you know I’m desperate to get in touch with my inner Taylor Swift? OMG. I’m becoming paranoid. She doesn’t know. Does she? Maybe she just doesn’t have anyone else coming in. Or maybe she has a list of names and she racially profiled me and pinned me as ‘Samia.’ Ugh. I’m in my head. I’m definitely paranoid. I wonder if the unconfirmed-David-Beckham sees the panic and the sweat dripping down my face. Wait a second. I don’t sweat. Sweating is for gross people. Ack! Pull it together, SK.

Samia: Yeah. Sorry I’m late. Traffic.

SK (to herself in her mind): Quick! It doesn’t matter if you’re 10 minutes late for class, create a diversion! Figure out a way to interact with “Beckham.”

Samia: Do you guys have a restroom here?

5-second pause

Samia: Oh silly me, what a stupid question. Of course you have a restroom here. What kind of place doesn’t have a restroom? That would be really awkward if you didn’t…

SK (to herself in her mind): Did I really just allude to the fact that one could well,  shit oneself, if they didn’t have a bathroom? In front of DB? Yes.

Receptionist: Haha, yes we do. It’s just back there to the right.

Random guy: I think someone just went in there actually.

SK (to herself in her mind): Oh darn, I’ll just have to go sit next to this alleged Beckham guy.

SCENE TWO: A minute later. Samia is sitting down on a chair next to “David Beckham”

Samia’s desperately trying to think of something to say, all the while looking inconspicuous by reading Twitter, and making subtle side glances over the tattooed-up, attractive man. Suddenly, the receptionist speaks. (This next interaction is not verbatim and will be paraphrased off of Samia’s crappy memory.)

Receptionist: So how are the rest of your boys doing? Keeping busy?

David Beckham: Yeah, they’re doing well between Tae Kwon Do and Soccer and this.

SK (to herself in her mind): Yep, that was a British accent. Yep, Becks has three boys. This is confirmed David Beckham.  Shhh.. MIND! Stop thinking! David is talking!

David Beckham: The seven-year-old loves Tae Kwon Do, the nine-year-old is busy with soccer, and the 12-year-old wants to do both AND music lessons.

SK (to herself in her mind): Ha. He said ‘soccer’, not football. Fake Brit.

David Beckham: It’s important to have them interested in something.

The receptionist and David Beckham continue to banter. Samia is too busy trying to think of something to say to pay attention to the rest of the conversation.

SK (to herself in her mind): WTF. Why am I star struck? I’ve gotten in trouble for talking too much, and NOW I can think of nothing to say?! You’ve let me down, brain. I’ve interviewed people as famous as him, tons. What gives? I don’t even LIKE soccer.  

Samia observes how easy-going and cordial and nice David Beckham is. He’d surely talk to a fan, making this moment all the more frustrating. Suddenly, someone leaves the restroom.

SCENE THREE: A few minutes later. Samia exits restroom.

David is looking at Samia. With a big smile. One asking ‘Hey, talk to me! Acknowledge my fame and celebrity, I’m nice!’ Or maybe a smile that says ‘Silly girl with her penguin sweatshirt.’ Samia just smiles back. And walks to her music class. Nothing. The moment passes.

SCENE FOUR: Thirty minutes later. In a classroom.

Samia is in class, half paying attention to how to write a song, half concerned about how she is going to tweet said-encounter and moreso upset by the fact that she couldn’t come up with an opening line for conversation. Then, it clicks.

SK (to herself in her mind): “So, in addition to soccer, you’re now a musician?” Yes. That line. That line would have totally worked! He would have laughed! Or at least chuckled. Or at least smirked. He would have acknowledged me for sure. OMG.  Wait. Did it just take me 30 minutes to come up with a joking little ice breaker?! Really.  Wow. Ugh. I’m so stupid…well, at least I eavesdropped his convo. I have to blog about this.

Anyway. Two weeks ago, my dear friend Arjun Gupta (of Showtime’s Nurse Jackie fame) was doing a reading of a play, written by his dear friend Rachael Holder. The play was called Dead Fish, and it was about relationships, family, dreams, ambitions… the stuff us 20-somethings relate to. Obviously. I related. Which is rare, because I’m not the “theater-going” type. I have a short attention span and generally prefer a TV screen with DVR capabilities to pause, rewind, and fast-forward.

 Fast-forward to the post-reading hangout at Snake Pit Bar on Melrose, where the cast is hanging out. Included? Tatyana Ali (known to 10-yr-old Samia as Ashley Banks, as well as the artist behind the hit song “Daydreamin”, which I purchased the CD single of.) Anyway. Arjun does the introduction, I compliment her on her shoes, we make small talk about our funny/awkward bathroom moment from an hour before (not suitable for the internet), and then actually have a real conversation. (I do not bring up the fact that she is Ashley Banks. Mostly because well, she knows she’s Ashley Banks, and she probably already gets the “Weren’t you on the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air?” on a daily basis from people who just see her in the streets. By getting a formal introduction by mutual friend Arjun, I had told myself that I could not let my 90s-loving self be seen.)

Arjun Gupta, Tatyana Ali, Wade Allain-Marcus & others I don't know

Our convo begins with talk about the play. How it’s so awesome, how Rachael did such a great job with writing it, how we hope it goes into production so that she can be a part of it. In fact, I was curious as to find out how she got involved, and it turned out she was connected via Facebook (so, we must thank Mark Z for this inevitable meeting, I guess.) I ask her if she had done plays before, to which she informs me that she grew up in theater. I immediately gain respect for her, because that means she’s a REAL actor and not someone who just “made it” in TV. We talk about the play and how I’m not really into theater but there was something about this play…you could feel the emotion, you felt the breakups on stage.. it all felt real. Which then gets us into a whole conversation about the way art can emotionally connect, whether it be theater, or a film, or especially, music.

 SK: “Like right now, Drake, Take Ca–” 

TA: “How did I KNOW you were gonna say Drake?!”  (I dunno. Maybe you’re psychic?)

I tell her about a situation in my life that is complicated and somewhat similar to that described in “Take Care” and “Make Me Proud.” ”Make Me Proud” is her jam, she says. (I feel like Tatyana and I are bonding over heartache and break and fun love and happiness and sadness all with the mutual understanding that we both have that “Take Care” album on repeat. I even tell her about the podcast I did where KT Tatara and I breakdown the album, track by track…I have no idea why I tell her this, as if I expect her to search and listen to said podcast from like four months ago.) Anyway. In this moment, we both just…get eachother.

It’s an interesting moment because, as consumers of television, we watch TV to find characters we relate to. And growing up watching Fresh Prince, I obviously connected with Ashley, solely because she was the little sister and the closest in age to me. So to connect in real life? Well. Ten-year-old Samia would be proud (you could say…almost as proud as Drake is of Nicki Minaj.)

I’d like to issue an apology to Donald Glover for taking two years to write a blog post about him.

You see, the man also known to “Community” lovers as Troy Barnes and hip-hop heads as Childish Gambino is incredibly talented… and I? Well, I’m just a procrastinator. Perhaps I should take a hard-working cue from DG (I like giving people nicknames based on their initials, FYI.)

So what prompted the sudden urge to blog? His impromptu stand-up set I just so happen to catch at Meltdown Comics on Wednesday which made me realize how multi-faceted this guy is (shoutout to my dear friend, FI, short for FunnyIndian.com, for taking me with. Hanging with him has resulted in a good blog post or two over the years.)

You see. DG is a triple threat. Or maybe quadruple threat. Or quintuple threat? I think that’s a word? Anyway. The point is, he does many things, and many things well. He’s a writer (hand-picked by Tina Fey in the mid-2000′s to write for “30 Rock” while he was still in college at NYU.) He’s an actor (as aforementioned, his biggest credit/most prominent role being that of Troy in NBC’s hit show “Community – also known as my favorite show on television.) He’s a comedian (hence the stand-up set I saw on Weds night.) And he’s a rapper (Childish Gambino, anyone? I’m addicted to his single, “Heartbeat.”)

Comparatively, there’s no one like him in the game. There’s Drake, but I see him as more hip-hop artist, less Degrassi. Will Smith used to rap…but let’s be real, there were no curse words in his rhymes, so that by default gives him less stress cred. Perhaps his son Jaden Smith will compete (he rapped with Biebs, plus he was the Karate Kid. A Black kid taking on an Asian role. Reverse Jeremy Lin, yo.) Then there’s Jamie Foxx. Talented, but I’m not really fond of his music nor am I attracted to him so I’ll veto that. Diddy acted in “Get Him to the Greek” and attempted to rap recently with a crew named Dirty Money, but that music just felt…like dirty money. So once again, no one can compete.

What’s most interesting? Each of his “personas” are all so different. There’s the Donald Glover that took the stage at Meltdown Comics on Wednesday night and talked about fleshlights (which, real talk, I didn’t know what they were til I kept listening to his jokes and realized they were some sort of sex toy, only to be confirmed by a google search I made on my phone…yes, DG is now to blame for ruining my reputation with the folks at AT&T whom I’m sure keep record of all data that’s ever been on my phone). This same comedic DG also discussed his love for girl-on-girl action, how he gets sexually suggestive tweets from strangers, and some other joke I can’t remember yet my notes on my phone say “duck rape.” He himself calls out the fact the guy on stage is far from the guy you see on TV, referencing a letter from a white lady who saw one of his comedy shows and wrote him a letter, shaming him for using the “N word” (I think she’s racist.) Personal highlight? He asks the ultra comedy-hip crowd (translation: beards, glasses, and plaid shirts) if anyone has seen the Justin Bieber movie. Silence…until I start cheering and clapping (I’ve never been one to shy away from my love for the Biebs, as was evident in the last blog post.) DG acknowledges, suggests that I’m one lonely individual, and continues with his joke…bringing up the trailer for “Never Say Never” and the voiceover that said… “THEY SAID IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN…” to which DG jokes, “Good looking talented white kid? No never.”

The thing with this set is that he hadn’t done standup in months. So he did warn us that he was a little rusty. Interestingly, I asked him (two years ago, albeit) if he had time to do standup with the whole success of Community. Response? “Whenever I can. If I get a Tuesday off, you’ll find me at Upright Citizens Brigade. And I do The Improv a lot, the Laugh Factory has been really good to me….Everyone I know, like Tina Fey, Joel Mchale, Seth Rogen…they’re always working, Adam Sandler. I’ve learned from them, if I really wanna do what I want to do, I need to be doing it all the time.  So when I’m not messing around with these guys [on set] and having fun, I want to sit down and write jokes.”

Abed & Troy

So now you kind of know “on-stage DG.” But there’s more. There’s the DG you see as Troy on Community. Geeky. Endearing. More obsessed with his BFF Abed than something like a fleshlight. In fact, it was this version of DG who was most like the one I interviewed two years ago…. who told me things like (in regards to succeeding with viral videos online), “don’t go after the money immediately. We had a lot of friends who were really funny and the second someone comes and is like ‘We’ll give you 200 dollars for your whole series’, they were like ‘yes, we made it!’ Well, that 200 will be split between three people and that’s like 75 dollars each, and your ideas are gone. The money will always comes if you love what you’re doing. Do what you love doing, and do it for free as long as you can” and (in regards to writing for TV), “I love writing, I do it in my spare time on set cause I like to stay busy…If [the creator of Community] ever asked me to write for this show, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Speaking of Heartbeat… that’s also the name of his current single from his alter-ego, Childish Gambino, another version of DG…(possibly my favorite version) who spends his time talking about relationships and using curse words and rhymes and brilliant lyrics to win me over. See video here:

Then there’s “Normal” DG… the one who had a college life, before the fame and fortune and fangirls.

“I once got really drunk at a college party, and I had what they call Jungle Juice and I had a whole bunch of shots with those and I got really drunk – and I couldn’t remember anything – and I had just broken up with my girlfriend, so my friend drops me off with this girl and was like , ‘she just broke up with her boyfriend’, and he faded into the background.  And I remember thinking in my head like, ‘Oh yeah, this is gonna be great!’ Then I woke up, nothing happened, and I was just in a cab….I just imagine it must have been the most embarrassing thing, I must have done something so messed up that she was like, ‘you have to be in a cab.’”

So in conclusion…the lesson you can take away from DG is…even if you get too hammered to hook up with a girl one night in college, if you play your cards right and succeed afterward, you’ll have many girls proclaiming their desire to hook up with you via Twitter a few years later. #myselfincluded #justkiddingmymothermightbereadingthis

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What does an Extra correspondent, Diddy’s son, and a tech trade show have in common? Um. They all helped contribute to one of my life goals…a conversation with Justin Bieber (maybe not a LIFE goal, but at least something that 13-year-old SK would think was really dope.)

The trade show? CES in Las Vegas. I was there to do coverage of all the latest gadgets and unveilings for the tech show I host for Sony called “SGNL.” I was done taping on Tuesday but I asked to stay til Weds because I jokingly told the network that I wanted to stalk Justin Bieber the next day during his appearance at the TOSY booth for some robot unveiling. OK maybe it wasn’t exactly a joke. And maybe it wasn’t stalking. Either way. I admitted that I was a sucker for the 17-year-old heartthrob,  and that I shouldn’t leave Vegas without trying to have a moment (Especially since the week before, unbeknownst to me, Biebs was at the Laugh Factory for an 8pm show, and I was two doors down at Coffee Bean hanging out with a friend, who’d be doing a spot on the 10pm Laugh Factory show that same evening. Needless to say, I held hanging out with said-friend against him because I felt he kept me from Bieber.)

PS I guess I forget how crazy regular America is when it comes to celebrities, because I went to the event 20 minutes early thinking I’d be fine. Wrong. Chaos. Tons of people. Yeah. Even at a tech trade show dominated by middle-aged men in suits, there were Beliebers. Or at least, parents of Beliebers who wanted photos with him to get validation and autographs to buy their children’s love.

Even techies <3 Bieber

Anyway I maneuver my way to the front of the side area crowd so I’m on the edge where the velvet rope was (because I’m a badass like that and make myself appear important so people move when I say I need to get through. Too bad this approach does not work when trying to cross security.) Security doesn’t care that I have a press badge. In fact… he stands in my way, blocks my view, is basically kind of a jerk.

As I stand there and wait, I see Scooter Braun. If you don’t know who that is, you’re not a real fan (and for you non-fans reading this that want to know, he’s the guy that discovered Bieber on YouTube years ago, and now acts as his manager.)

I ask Scooter if Justin is available for interviews. He says he’s not doing anyway. I ask if  he knows what Biebs’ favorite app is, and said that he definitely couldn’t answer that, as his name is attached to too many brands. Anyway. We chat more. He’s super nice, so I figure since I wasn’t gonna blog about Bieber, I could at least have a solid Scooter Braun story. Obviously, a blog requires a picture. So then I say “This may be a weird question, but then again, you probably get it all the time – can I take a picture with you?” He said it was definitely a weird question, laughed, and posed anyway. We chatted again later. He asked if we just walk around CES and are given free stuff. Not really. I told him Biebs could do that, but not me.I establish that I host a tech show for Sony and I could probably get Bieber Playstation stuff, before I realized he probably already gets all that stuff. Scooter reassured me that yes, indeed, Biebs gets a lot of swag. Observation of Scooter’s dopeness? Canadian lady nearby chats w scooter. Scooter brings her back a signed Bieber picture. This middle-aged woman eeeks over him. This is when I realized Scooter is the nicest person ever (maybe not EVER. But you know what I mean.) As an industry profesh working for someone as big as Bieber, you have the status to be a jerk, and he isn’t. This alone is reason for him to be my new temporary crush (Plus, I like guys who wear hoodies, don’t know why. Think it’s that whole Eminem appeal. Swag.)

SK & SB

Anyway. Since I had maneuvered my way to the front of the side area blocked off by a velvetrope, I was positioned in such a way that, even though I couldn’t really see too much, there were swarms of people behind me, thus making it impossible to exit. Keep in mind, I don’t wait. I don’t wait in lines ever. Call me spoiled, call me impatient, really… I just think I can spend my time in better ways. Plus, I’ve been fortunate to someone get access to things just through friendships and random connections (khannections? Ack. I try too hard to be clever.)

So here I am thinking, “Wow, yeah…13-year-old SK would have def waited through all of this for a Timberlake sighting, and here she is now… over a decade later…waiting for the OTHER (possibly more talented) Justin.

Baby Belieber

And as soon as I think that…the connections start working. A dear friend, Adrianna Costa, who is a correspondent for Extra, is there covering the event. She and her producer spot me and we hug/chat. Security now eases up because the people of Extra have essentially validated me (Vegas/LA = image. If you appear to know important people,  security folks become nicer) – and now security allows me to hop the rope and get into the VIP press/area.

As I’m standing there, I see a guy who I know. I’m like, wait…is it Quincy?! So I text my friend Deepa whose home I had met Quincy at the previous month, asking her if Quincy was friends with Bieber, and if he’s a skilled photographer (all I knew about him professionally, until this point, was that he’s a musician from a talented music family that includes Diddy. Yes, Diddy, of  White party fame.) She responds with yes. So now that I’ve gotten access over the rope, I approach Quincy, give him a hug, remind him that I’m the reason he had such a delicious dessert at Deepa’s housewarming/holiday party, and that he owes me Bieber (okay I didn’t say it with that much sass at all, it just sounds better that way. Really. I was happy and friendly, excited to see Quincy, and asked if I could meet Biebs.)

So… Quincy introduces me to Bieber.  We shake hands with our right hand. He’s as adorable in person as he is on tv/tshirts/internet/magazines/everything-else-with-his-face-on-it. He asks how I know Quincy. We explain the connection. As Bieber is signing a photo for me,  I observe that he’s left-handed. Of course, I’m left handed, so I tell him this. I then tell him something to the effect of “You’re left handed, it means you’re a creative genius.” Which I then follow up with “wait… you probably already knew that.” He laughs. His publicist laughs. He then asks me, “Wait, are you saying you’re a creative genius?” Of course, I say yes (I mean really, have you seen my blog/twitter/hung out with me? Brilliance.) He laughs. I respond by telling him you have to have confidence. Publicist gives me props for it, saying she likes it. I nod, start talking about how we’re in the exclusive 11% of the world and something else that leads me to use the word “swag”… and then…I leave.

So yeah. The lesson of the story is…whatever your goals in life are, whether it be to take over the world, be incredibly successful, meet your life partner, or um, meet a 17-year-old popstar who you are pretend obsessed with, as long as you know what you want, you can make it happen. As Bieber’s 3D docu-movie’s title suggests, Never Say Never.

What happens when two brown girls walk into a Far East Movement party?

It’s like a blizzard.

Okay, not really, but I wanted to incorporate the lyrics of the group’s most popular (albeit lyrically confusing) song, “Like a G6.”

Anyway. Far East Movement. In case the “Far East” part of their name didn’t give it away, they’re Asian, and so is a majority of their fanbase. Not the Asian that Brits refer to as Asian (those would be my type of people), but rather the boba-drinking, fast-car-loving, is-this-post-getting-too-stereotypically-racist-for -ya? kind of Asian. Needless to say, we stood out…

At least, until we spotted a 6’11″ black man in the corner (who of course stands out in a room whose dominant ethnicity isn’t exactly known for being tall, minus a Yao Ming here or there) who we immediately recognize as early 90′s basketball star John Salley.

It turns out, he recognizes us too…immediately asking our ethnicity, specifically if my friend Hibah is Punjabi (an ethnic group in India/Pakistan.) She states that she’s half-Indian, half-Pakstani (same as myself…yet for some reason John Salley decides to hear that I’m half-Indian half-white instead… which I’m okay with since that mix tends to always be attractive anyway.) He then tells us that he’s actually part Indian, and that his great-great-grandmother was an Indian indentured servant during the days of slavery…making him like 1/16th Indian. As he says, it’s the reason he  ”loves sex and has no ass.” Anyway, this discovery that John Salley is part Indian immediately creates a bond, and we continue chatting for the next 30 or so minutes (because like we learned in college, if you’re brown and I’m brown, we’re by default friends or something.)

Highlights?

• He’s been to India, traveled a lot, took an old Canadian girlfriend who was Punjabi to India for the first time and explored the country with her
• He’s vegan. He started out vegetarian for health reasons, then became spiritual in a path that involves Jinn and Buddha and self. He elaborates and tells us that the leaders of the world didn’t eat meat, and claim that Jesus and Muhammad and Buddha would have never taken another life to fulfill their own (not sure what the Bible or Quran says about this…)
• As he’s encouraging us to explore the vegan path, Hibah tells him that she can’t live without her sunny side up eggs. He then makes some reference to eggs being the result of a chicken’s menstrual cycle (which we had never really thought of til that moment.) Needless to say, Hibah still totally ate eggs the next day.
• Speaking of menstrual cycles, let’s move on to the topic of intimacy. Or as John Salley refers to it, F—ing. He tells about the four daughters he has, one as old as 24, and the advice that he gives his girls. “If a guy calls you at 1:30am and it’s not from jail, he wants one thing… don’t go there for him, go there for you. You do the Effing.” (Obviously, this is NOT his 1/16th Indian side speaking… my ethnic parents would never say such a thing.)
• We eventually talk business, specifically, what we do for a living. Once he finds out I host a tech show for Sony, he tells me how he’s a big techie, and that he’ll be at CES (the Consumer Electronics Show) in January in Vegas…(yes, I’ll be there, and yes I will be looking for him. He promised if I searched and found him, he’d remember me.)
• Mr Salley and I then sorta bond over this whole TV/hosting business, and the fact that we have a mutual former boss in current Reelz Channel and former TV Guide Network executive Matt Singerman (who apparently just recently cancelled Salley’s Reelz Channel show, thus making the mutual friend a slightly awkward reference.)

Awkwardness aside, the conversation was fun, I got a photo and a Twitter friend out of it, and most importantly…a blog post. I may never eat eggs again but, hey, at least I have a decent story to explain my reasoning.

(DISCLAIMER: I’m not racist but for the sake of this blog post it may appear that way.)

OK, not anatomically, but at least in interests. I grew up playing video games, having Power Ranger action figures, and watching basketball on the reg (a fan since the 94-95 season, I became obsessed with the Orlando Magic in the finals and would adopt Penny Hardaway as my fave player/crush of choice.) I would read the sports section daily, specifically to check the scores, player stats, and team standings (I woulda killed Fantasy Basketball if they had it back then.) I rocked basketball jerseys (I had the blue Penny jersey, my brother had the black one.) I even chose my favorite numbers based on players (1, 8, and 23… Penny, Kobe, Jordan. I still claim these numbers as favorites to 14 years later.) When Michael Jordan made that final shot in game 6 of the 1998 Finals over Bryon Russell? And it was obvious that the Bulls had won? Yeah….I cried. Like, a lot. I could care less that my older brother graduated from UC San Diego that day… what mattered to me was the fact that the Bulls had just played their final game of the season, and I knew in my heart that my favorite player, Michael Jordan, would be retiring from the game (well, um, sort of. There was that whole stint as a Wizard that everyone seems to overlook.)

JM & SK

So since today is sorta a big deal in the Jordan world (the “Concord” Air Jordan XI shoes came out today, and apparently widespread violence along with it to cop a pair), I thought I’d share that story of my boyish childhood, as well as share details on a shoot I did back in May with a diehard MJ fan (heck, the guy’s name is Jordan Michael. Coincidence? Hardly.)

Here’s a quick overview. Jordan Michael Geller, a diehard sneakerhead, built a 9000sf museum-like shrine to Nike. TWO-THOUSAND SHOES! I visited. He gave me the rundown of Jordans since 1985, the way pop culture inspired shoes (from beer to the Simpsons to Elmers Glue and more), and yeah. Here are the associated videos. I demand that you watch. And educate yourself. At least the first one. It’s really cool. (Just Do It.)

History of the Jordan Sneaker

Overview of the ShoeZeum: 2000 Pairs of Nike, 1 Warehouse

And if you’re too lazy to sit through many minutes of dope footage and interviews and knowledge, here are some photos I took that day of some of my favorite sights:

M&M-inspired. Not to be confused with Eminem-inspired…

…Eminem-Inspired. Literally.

Eat my shorts! Or um, shoes.

…Because you "dunk" Oreos in milk? Eh? Maybe?

With great power comes…shoes designed after you.

I <3 cookies

Why not put Denver Broncos shoes on a Bronco truck?

Their soundtrack = my first CD

Original Jordan XI's

Nintendo & Playstation shoes

Shoes can fall under "school supplies", yeah?

Shoulda been more futuristic?

1996 Olympics, anyone?

Personal favorite. Final Photo. Bye, Bye, Bye.

At first, I wanted to write you to say thank you (it’s later, right? I’m guessing you expected gratitude once you released the followup to your debut album, Thank Me Later.)

You see, your music has been heavily featured in the soundtrack to my recent life. Whether it was 2009′s “Best I Ever Had” (which, by the way, turns out is only temporary and should be renamed “Best I Ever Had…Until I Change My Mind”) or tracks like “Make Me Proud” feat. Nicki Minaj and “Take Care” feat. Rihanna off your latest album, I’ve always felt like you were telling me exactly what I needed to hear… especially with the song “Take Care.”

Let’s look at a few of the lyrics:

I know you’ve been hurt
By someone else
I can tell by the way
You carry yourself
But if you’ll let me
Here’s what I’ll do
I’ll take care of you

Wow. OK it’s not the most lyrically complex or deep but still…Makes your heart skip a beat, right? At least, anyone who’s been broken because of someone else’s actions can relate. 

Of course the song is enhanced with the Drake-esque lines & rhymes that paint the picture of the story of the girl and the pain and… your role of patient superhero. Creates a fairytale romance that could liken it to hip-hop’s equivalent of a Taylor Swift song (which by default, becomes a song I’m obsessed with.)

However. This picture-perfect fairytale perception of Drake, the “knight in shining armor,” came crashing down yesterday, when my dear friend Carmen told me that “Take Care” was NOT your original.

Yep. “Take Care” is indeed…sampled (which of course you know because, well, it’s “your” song.)

Look, I understand that the hip-hop industry samples all the time. But there was something about this song, the weight I put on it, the value it held, the way I truly believed in all things you said and the way you just understood pain and emotion and yeah… to discover that a guy named Mark Lanegan is the one I should be swooning over is just disheartening (especially since that can’t happen. I google image searched him… he’s not my type.)*

So, I’ve sadly discovered you’re kind of a fraud. You cheated me. I don’t even know what’s real and what’s fake anymore. Heck, I may as well call you Aubrey (your REAL name) at this point….it might be all the truth I have left to hold on to.

-Samia

PS for readers who are interested, the Mark Lanegan version is below, followed with Drake’s version below that.

*Update: I was later informed, after writing this article, that someone entirely different, not Mark Lanegan, came up with it. So I failed as a former journalist in doing thorough research. But the disappointment still applies.

I look evil.

I have an interesting bucket list. Many of the goals are childhood dreams that now, because I live in Los Angeles and work in the “industry,” are somewhat attainable, including:

• Being a part of pop culture significance to the point where I get referenced in a rap song
• Meeting all the members of NSYNC (I’m 2 for 5… and given that no one has heard from Chris Kirkpatrick in years, I figure if I meet Justin and Lance, then I’ve met all of them)
• Being in a music video
• Specifically…being in a rap music video, WITHOUT being a video vixen (aka scantily clad booty-shaker aka… whore)

So that last bulletpoint wasn’t a childhood goal – rather, a modified goal inspired by the visit to Soulja Boy’s “Pretty Boy Swag” music video shoot (long story short, I “investigated” by talking to the staff, discovered what it would take to be a “video girl” and concluded that one day, I would be in a rap music video without being one of THOSE girls. Oh and in case you’re wondering, they look for girls who are “ethnically ambiguous.”)

Anyway, my good friend DeStorm (who just won an American Music Award by the way, super dope) just collaborated with hiphop legend Talib Kweli on a song called “Finally Free” …so when he was looking for people to be in his video, I obviously knew… THIS WAS MY MOMENT!

So…I went to the shoot, taped a lot of behind-the-scenes footage, interacted with some fellow guest stars (like the super cute 6-year-old kid in the video whose mom when at craft services (for those not in the industry, its the catering area) refused a sandwich because… her son doesn’t like carbs), and shot my scene!

The experience can best be explained through this vlog that I posted a few days ago, teasing the upcoming video:

Anyway. Now that you’ve seen that, today is the big day… the release of DeStorm’s video collaboration with Talib Kweli, and the day I can officially cross “Being in rap music video WITHOUT being a whore” off my bucket list. Watch, and enjoy?

Justin Timberlake does a lot of things.  He sings. He dances. He acts. He hosts. He jokes. He runs a record label. A clothing line. A tequila line. Probably has done other lines (yes that’s a reference to cocaine.)

Anyway…. for the most part, I’ve supported all these endeavors since I decided in 1998 that he would become the crush of my lifetime (or well, half lifetime, since there was a time before JT.) I’m a very loyal girl. Don’t screw me over and I’ll be by your side for better and for worse.

And well, since the word “worse” has been brought up, I must address something that has bothered me over the last few weeks, in regard to the usually amazing and talented Timberlake.

Let’s just say that JT is trying to be JZ (Jay-Z actually, it just visually looked better written like that when trying to make the comparison.) What I mean by that?

He’s…. rapping.

Yes, rapping. As in, speaking words at really a rapid rate while rhyming, most commonly done successfully by black people, Eminem aside.

Now before I show you the video, where JT joins his Tennman Records artist FreeSol in the song “Role Model” – I’d like to break down some of the lyrics.

First off, he claims to “ball like a Laker.”

Yo Justin, this may have been a great reference in 2010, but this song came out in 2011. I don’t know if you know this but… the Lakers sorta dropped the ball this year. And got swept. So, in your defense, I hope you meant “bawl like a Laker”… as in shed tears over the fact that rapping isn’t your greatest talent.

He also tells us “I’m going hard like the opposite of soft” – I see no brilliance in this. Honestly, I just feel like if you’re gonna rap, it’s gotta be clever genius like Drake, Eminem, Jay-Z, Kanye, even Weezy…  but, this is straight Diddy (which means Justin will be more successful in rap if he just manages other rappers careers.)

I will say the one time I smirked is when Justin says “Oops did I take it too far? Superbowl!” and then pulls his shirt to the side. That was a reference to the CBS drama when he took the Superbowl stage with Janet Jackson and well, had the “wardrobe malfunction.” Way to call yourself out and admit to the crime, JT. #7yearslate

Anyway, I’m not gonna analyze every line because….well, then I’d have to think of clever things to say about everything, and writer’s block is setting in. So please, just watch this video for yourself, and make your own judgment on JT’s rapping skills.

PS. Viewer Discretion advised… (Side Effects include: shock, horror, a decrease in attraction, a mild case of amusement,  and an occasional laugh.)

PPS When it comes to rapping, clearly… THIS Justin does it better: