An afternoon with the paparazzi

Just spending a few hours with paparazzi covering Lindsay Lohan's 21st brithday party gives me an eyewitness account -- and mere glimpse -- into the chaotic world of celebrity photojournalism.

By Eunice Oh
FLASH

Photographers camp out on the shore in front of the Malibu beach house where Lohan celebrated her 21st birthday. Photo: Bauer-Griffin (via TMZ)
Lohan, carrying a long lens camera, makes a brief appearance on the deck of beachouse with mom Dina. Photo: X17 (via Access Hollywood)

After a 14-day trip tp Europe, I expected to return back to a fairly quiet office at People magazine. After all, the Fourth of July holiday was just two days away and the magazine had closed most stories to meet the early deadline.

"Lindsay's in Malibu for her birthday and her entirely family is there," Bryan Alexander, the magazine's deputy bureau chief quickly told me. "Here's the address. It just started. See what you can get."

Perfect timing. I was about 30 minutes shy from leaving the office to have dinner with a friend. Instead, I found myself rushing to grab my digital voice recorder, a thin spiral notepad and a small bottle of Fiji water.

With a Mapquest printout in my hand, I cruised down a surprisingly traffic-free PCH to find the beach house where Lindsay Lohan was reportedly celebrating her 21st birthday. The magazine was especially interested since she resorted to a small beach party instead of the large bash she planned at a popular Las Vegas club. She had also just been released from her second stint at rehab, which was preceded by a DUI arrest and a car accident.

I passed Topanga and entered the Malibu area but noticed I had gone too far. I circled around and immediately spotted the house -- only because there were about 20 paparazzi lingering in the driveway.

My phone rang. It was a source who informed me I could get clear observations of the party by standing on the beach. But how could I find the beach house?

"There's a ton of paparazzi right in front of the back of the house," my source said. "Just come on the beach and you'll get a clear view of the party."

Witnessing the action
As I approached the house, all I could hear was the sound of Beyonce's "Irreplaceable" blaring from the speakers on the large patio deck of the clean, contemporary and surprisingly small house. A few 20-something-year-olds were munching on chips and smoking cigarettes in the lounge chairs. But no Lindsay in sight.

"She only came out briefly about 45 minutes ago," one of the 32 photographers on the beach told me. "She's been walking around the house for quite some time but hasn't come out yet."

While a few paparazzi resorted to taking pictures of the actress's younger brother Cody swimming in the ocean and sister Ali playing beach volleyball, most sat on the warm sand, complaining about how they had been waiting hours for Lindsay to come out.

All of a sudden and all at once, the photographers leaped to their feet, adjusting their lenses, crowding together and furiously beginning to snap photos. Their target: Lohan's former boyfriend Calum Best who had stepped outside the house. What was he, who British tabloids claimed used cocaine, doing at a party with a recently rehabbed?

The entire photo-op lasted a mere 45 seconds as paparazzi quickly got bored with Best who only walked around the deck's barbeque pit while sipping on a beverage and chatting with some of his not-so-famous friends.

Another 30 minutes passed. I corresponded back and forth with a reporter at People, giving details about the decor of the house, the party guests and who we had spotted so far. I was told to come back to the office if there wasn't anything else to report.

A bikini-clad Lohan finally emerged from the beach house.

What had been a dull 30 minutes easily turned into mayhem as photographers ran around the shore, making sure they got a good angle of the red-head actress without coming too close to the house. Some even yelled out her name as to grab her attention and hopefully get her to face their specific cameras.

Equipped with her own black camera, she began laughing as she took pictures of the paparazzi. Another money shot came for photographers when mom Dina came out of the house and stood next to her famous daughter.

Though she seemed to be enjoying the attention, Lindsay quickly ran back into the house with photographers, once again, letting their guards down as they finally captured the birthday girl.

It was getting dark. A handful of photographers who said they had been there the entire day finally decided to leave. The group continued to dwindle down until a familiar face (to the paparazzi at least) walked towards us carrying what could have been considered gold to the hungry photographers -- five large boxes of pizza. It was Jaz, Lindsay's bodyguard, who greeted the paparazzi and set the boxes down.

They were presents from Lindsay "with love," he said with a smile. Within minutes, all that was left were empty boxes.

I opted to skip on the cheese and pepperoni pizza and instead got the greenlight from the office to go home, especially since the sun was setting and beach patrol was preparing to lock the gates.

I drove home and e-mailed a writeup to the New York and Los Angeles editors, thus capping off my long day, which began at 8 a.m. and ended at 10 p.m.