Brush with Crazy

I think that it's pretty clear to everyone by now that Britney Spears and I live parallel lives. I mean, sometimes when I read about her exploits in magazines it's like reading my life story. Also, we share a sense of style, and taste in men. So, really, it was only a matter of time before we crossed paths. It finally happened last night, in Santa Monica.

We had flown in to LAX at rush hour and figured that instead of spending hours in the car battling traffic trying to get to Pasadena, we would sit in a bar in Santa Monica and then fly down the empty freeway later. We started out at beach bar in Venice, but then Kent suggested we head over to Santa Monica -- and the very swanky Viceroy hotel bar.

This place is so Hollywood that the drink menu actually lists calories and net carbs for each drink. Oh, and the drinks start at $15. Since I was with normal people and not the cadre of millionaires I normally run with, we decided to just have one round. If only I had known what could have happened if we stayed.

Three hours after we left Britney checked in.

According to every celebrity gossip blog in existence she pulled in about 9pm, crying and surrounded by her normal crowd of photographers. She got a room, and stayed there until 2:30 in the morning when she checked out and went to get McDonalds. Classy. But, who am I to criticize. I eat cold leftovers out of the fridge at midnight. See? The similarities just don't stop...

I would have thought this was a one time freaky thing, but when Ryan and I returned to Utah there were Taco Bell wrappers all over the house and Sally was hooked on meth. Weird.