Seeing Stars


Last Friday night I blew into LA — accompanied by Hadley — to visit my grandmother.

But before jetting off I made a quick appointment with my hair stylist.

Because I’m an actress and that’s how we roll. It’s all about the coiffure.

That’s right, I’m a movie star. According to my sometimes-muddled, 93-year-old Granny.

And I’m not some D-lister or a paltry movie extra. Nope.

My grandmother thinks that I’m Sandra Bullock.

Full disclosure: I’ve been told before that I resemble Sandra Bullock. As far back as college. I still remember the guy at a party in South Carolina repeatedly exclaiming, “Yew look like that gurl from Speed!” Since then others have echoed that sentiment. Though admittedly, with less Southern drawl.

And sure, if you cobbled together a police lineup of Hollywood stars, you’d say that I look like Sandra Bullock, more so than Oprah Winfrey or Zach Galifianakis (thank God).

But truthfully I don’t look like Sandra Bullock. Please.

Be that as it may, Granny thought otherwise. She even told her hairdresser, “my granddaughter is on the cover of the newspaper.”

And apparently I was, just a few weeks back. She saved that issue for me, in case I missed it:



So given this grand build-up, I was a little reticent about the visit. I imagined trekking to the airport, dumping my car in longterm parking, flying cross country, slogging through LAX, snagging a rental car, wending through LA’s tangled freeways, and perching bedside, only to have Granny sputter: “What the hell?? You aren’t Sandy!”

Fortunately, that did not occur. Granny appeared happy to see me and she didn’t inquire about my recent Oscar nomination. Instead she asked, “Where are you with your schooling? Are you in college yet?”

Wow, I thought, first I’m a movie star and now I’m in my twenties. Bonus.

“Gosh Granny, I’ve been out of school for a while. I’m 42! I do some writing–”

“Oh that right,” she said, waving her hand. “Now I remember. That Facebook thing.”

“Yea, among other stuff,” I said. We sat there quietly for a while, before I added, “Who knows, you might be on that Facebook thing sometime.”

Granny arched one eyebrow and peered hard at me with her “I’m not a fool” look.

“I highly doubt that,” she said.

“Well, you just never know about these things.”