Lindsay Lohan finally gets a DUI & Coke posession charge

First, the facts, from Total DUI blog:

Actress Lindsay Lohan was arrested in Beverly Hills, CA and charged with DUI and possession of cocaine. After Lohan’s car struck a tree, she was taken in another car to a hospital for treatment of minor injuries. Police received a 911 call about the accident and arrested Lohan at the hospital. Officers said they found, in her car, a “usable amount” of a drug they’ve tentatively identified as cocaine.

This was the 20-year old girl’s third accident in about two years. Her publicist said, last December, that Lohan was attending AA meetings. She had checked herself into a rehab center for substance abuse in January.

As a former LA party-circuit fixture, and as someone who was actually hired by Jim Robinson (of Morgan Creek Productions, the guy who lambasted Lilo publicly for partying during Georgia Rule filming), I feel uniquely qualified to comment on this train wreck.

When I lived in LA LA land, I was struck by what a party-friendly town it was for me and my peeps (the 20ish, model-esque delinquent set.) LA was this mecca of swanky clubs where, unlike in San Diego, where I’d been living before, we didn’t have to wait to get in (or bother with IDs or cover charges); we just strutted our fine asses up to the velvet rope, past everyone else, and viola! We had slimy Producer-types offering us drinks and lines all night!

And then there were the house parties in the Hills. Parties you have to drive through the hills to get through. Since someone always had to drive, and more often than not, there was coke and/or alcohol in that person’s bloodstream, you’d think the cops would be patrolling the area, right? I mean, how many times can you speed through the hills in your Range Rover at 5Am before a cop takes notice?

Apparently, quite a few. This was the other thing I loved about LA. Everyone knew what went down, cops and all, and nobody did anything about it. It seemed like you’d have to actually, say, wrap your MBZ around a tree (like Lilo) in order to get popped. And, really, what are the odds of that? Truly, wouldn’t you think the average partygirl could get away with driving lit about 175 times prior to actually hitting a tree 5AM?

So there ya have it. Lilo was at time no. 176. Her number had to come up eventually.

The fallout from this could get messy. It’s a good thing her mom is the White Oprah. Paging Dr. Phil!

Paris Hilton in JAIL?? Oh no they didn’t!

I know it’s not exactly PC to defend Miss Hilton these days, but between you and moi, I feel for her. Well, the me from 10 years ago (read:high school) feels for her.

Specifically, when the judge handed down her 45-day jail sentence– in a courtroom where I myself have beat a ticket– her gasp brought me back to the good ole days.

Those would be the days when I truly believed that I was immune to the law; that tickets and suspensions, et. al. happened to other people: people that weren’t cute.

The fact that I was able to believe this until age 17 shows how fucked up our culture is. The fact that Paris was shocked that she would be sent to jail confirms it.

See, I grew up waaay sheltered in the Santa Barbara area. I had a series of early-life experiences that taught me that nasty things like those mentioned above didn’t happen to people like me; in fact, when our school’s VP threatened to send me to continuation for missing 40% of my senior year classes, I told her as much.

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” I said. “I have a 3.3 GPA and I’m extracurricular-activity QUEEN!!”

‘Twas my exact statement. I kid you not.
Then there was the time I got my first speeding ticket. I was going 21 miles over the limit on a road notorious for deaths–highway 154, the San Marcos Pass. I had been pulled over no fewer than three times at that point, and had gotten away with a warning each of them. When the cop asked me what I was doing, I told him I’d no idea I was speeding and flipped my blonde hair. He took out his ticket book.

“You’re WRITING me UP??” I said incredulously.

“You’re damn right I am,” he said. “You’re going 21 miles over the limit on this road and you tell me you don’t know you’re even speeding?!”

Now Paris has recently tried to make us understand her lack of respect for police by telling us how she’s always getting pulled over, just so cops can hit on her. It seems she’s gotten pulled over many, many times with nothing ever happening. So the idea of actual consequences stemming from a time when she was pulled over is totally foreign to her.

Well, I can relate to the above up to a point, but sweetie, wwhen the man pulls out his ticket book, the jig’s up.

Looking back, the day I got that ticket, my worldview was forever shattered. Maybe cuteness didn’t conquer all?

My self-esteem, too. Maybe I just wasn’t cute enough?!

Shudder!!

This, I imagine, is how Paris must’ve felt when the Judge told her he was, indeed, giving her the sentence  that the law dictates. I’m sure she thought it didn’t apply to cute celebrities.

But what if  her cuteness and fame don’t matter?

Or, worse yet, what if she’s not cute or famous enough??

You just know these thoughts are keping her up at night.

Shudder!!  Oh, Poor Paris.

So where does this leave us poor misguided girls?

Well, as for myself, I would still go on to beat the ticket on a technicality– discovery related (I would go on to complete law school), so I still had a few years left of living in oblivion– this time, by thinking my cleverness could get me out of anything.

But we all know Paris is no law student. And cuteness and celebrity aren’t enough to tell you not to drive when the press is taping your every move (DUH!!)

Sometimes I wish my life were as charmed as Miss Hilton’s; or that I was able to hold on to my naive worldview as long as she has.

Then I think about my reckless nature and the eventual consequences, and… let’s just say, I’d be the perfect cellmate for Paris, with both of us being separated from the general population for being too Elle Woods-ey.

We’d sit there all day, bitching about the crappy concierge service.

No thanks.