The Conversation: Lindsay Lohan


Ring… Ring…

Me: What the @!&*… what the hell time is it…

Ring… Ring…

Me: 3:30 in the freaking morning.. who is calling at…

Husband: Caller ID says it’s Lohan. Whaddya want me to do?

Me: Arrrghhhh…. I’ll take it in the office.

Husband: OK, but tell her that real people need real sleep and…

Me: I know, I know. I’ll handle it.

Husband: Good Luck.

Me: Uh..huh… Hello?

LL: OKOKOKOKOKOK I absolutely KNOW that it is late, but I’m in Paris, and it’s not late here– actually I just had a nice breakfast at this little cafe and…

Me: WHAT!? What do you want, Lindsay?

LL: OK, so I thought I better call now, or I would forget.

Me: Forget what? Forget to remind me that I have yet to get to Paris in this lifetime and you’ve been there, like, fifty times already and you just want to make absolutely sure that I realize how unbelievably underwhelming the City of Lights actually is? I was in the middle of a pretty decent dream involving me and a talking dolphin, so this better be good.

LL: It is. I promise.

Me: OK then.

LL: OK.

Me: OK.

LL: Well, now that I think about it, it’s probably not a big deal. You go back to bed. I’ll call you later.

Me: Over my dead body. You tell me now, or you permanently lose this number.

LL: OK OK… I was thinking I need to get a makeunder, you know. Just sort of Streep it up a little.

Me: Get your Streep on, as it were?

LL: Exactly! She told me once that she thinks I’m pretty good, and I’m not going to have my looks forever so I better get serious about, you know, serious stuff.

Me: Right.

LL: And I’ve been looking at pictures of myself a lot…

Me: As usual…

LL: Uh-huh. As usual and I’m looking, I don’t know, kind of bummed out.

Me: You are bummed out. Your Mother and sister just did a lame ass reality show totally exploiting your celebrity, your Dad’s in jail, you’ve already been in rehab a couple of times.

LL: I know, and it sucks. I just want to hang out, you know?

Me: And I want to sleep. Is that all?

LL: No. I need your help.

Me: That’s what you have agents and managers and “people” for. Go ask them. I’m tired.

LL: Tell me about it. I just got off this shoot and…

Me: OK, not to interrupt but I’m Mom-with-toddler-juggling-bills-dealing-with-clients-cleaning-house-running-errands-staying-groomed-by-myself-tired. Not celebutante tired. That’s a different tired. People run at you in warp speed to make sure you don’t have bags under your eyes. People run away from me because, honestly, my morning hair scares the crap out of them. So go get help from, you know, your help.

LL: But you’re my friend.

Me: (silence)

LL: Hello?

Me: (deep sigh) OK… how can I help?

LL: OK Good. So what books should I be reading? Are there any really, you know, super smart people I should be hanging out with? Have you ever read “The Alchemist”? My Reiki woman said that would that make a good movie.

Me: The main character is a shepherd boy– there is a gypsy, but it’s a pretty small role and…

LL: Well screw that. What else? Can you think of anything else?

Me: Well… let me think about it. Would you be willing to gain some weight?

LL: Weight? How much weight are we talking about? Like Bridget Jones or more like Charlize Theron in that death row movie?

Me: I don’t know. I’m just asking cuz that might make a difference in what I recommend. You said you wanted to Streep it up…

LL: Yeah, but that’s like DeNiro. Streep does accents. I can definitely do accents. Didn’t you see The Parent Trap?

Me: I just want to know how far you’re willing to go.

LL: I need to think about it.

Me: Okey Dokey. Just get back to me… at a decent hour. And send me an Eiffel Tower snowglobe.

LL: You have like 15 of those.

Me: Yeah, but I don’t have one from the Lohan. Au Revoir.

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