the blind leading the blind PART 6:
1. on a date, order mint tea, instead of the sugary chai late you’d rather drink! you’ll look way more fem and alluring! you might even lose a pound! PRIVACY is for bloating; NOT dates in public!
1. on a date, order mint tea, instead of the sugary chai late you’d rather drink! you’ll look way more fem and alluring! you might even lose a pound! PRIVACY is for bloating; NOT dates in public!
meet yvan rodic AKA the face hunter. i did! and the entire experience was awesome! he’s a blogger too(except he has a way bigger following than me), he’s a boy, and he takes pictures of interesting faces that he finds all around the world. he also has an Internet TV show even!!!
he’s part Serbian, part Swiss and now lives in London. he speaks English, french, German, some Serbian and Swedish.
check out this very candid interview yvan granted me; where we talk about monogamy, privates, relationships, french, and love. ALL from a boys perspective! he even has a neato accent that will enchant all the girlies who are sick of the usual American accent they can find from any Starbucks or mall guy they meet in their boring home town. pow! check it out:
so, a lot is going on. i’m trying to write this boycrazy blog, interview dudes and keep up with contributing to interview magazine.com. not to mention, keeping up with the job i do that actually pays me. i have lots of interviews scheduled with super cute boys AND epic stories/rants planned.
chatting with barnaby: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.
chatting with barnaby 2: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.
Like it or not, the size of your thighs defines your importance on the value scale of being sexy or not/worthy of desire. when did this begin exactly? i mean, let’s face it, it’s been chic to be skinny for a LONG time. look at the rolling stones and the edie sedgewick/warhol scene! duh. this is nothing new. this post is just a snapshot/a portrait of something that continues to be true. I’m not saying that it’s ok to be fat, cuz it’s totally not! when did this blog become a pro-anorexia website? yikes. but, you know what i mean. when 2 girls are next to each other and their level of cute factor is the same and their personality is about even…the deciding factor of which girl wins the attention-is ultimately based on whose thighs are smaller. you’ve gotta have a pretty winning personality to trump the other bitch OR be famous! famous will win every time. a better outfit won’t hurt either. but I’m basing this on 2 lame, non famous, equally boring bitches. because of this, I’ve started walking again. (did i just accidentally refer to MYSELF as a non famous, boring bitch? whoops. blogging is dangerous!) walking in new york was so much easier. it’s like Disneyland over there. i felt so safe in a crowd of other walking people. looking at other girls as incentive, getting outfit ideas, eyeing dudes. getting pissed off at the size of THEIR thighs! now I’m back in la, and hating gyms and any and all forms of exercise is a problem to achieving the body I’d like. however, all that talk about exercise is lame to me-because the body i idolize is one that can only be achieved through starvation and drugs. the ‘lazy beautiful’ look. the girl who is so weak, she can barely raise a cigarette to her lips. so, the only super caj (casual) exercise and weight loss regime i can try-(as a girl who doesn’t smoke or do drugs or go to the gym) is to a.) eat less, and b.) be dropped off somewhere in la, without a car, and be forced to walk home. and so that’s what I’ve been doing. these walks help me think. i try to appear deep in thought and very confident- even though I’m hyper aware of every move i make. every swing of my arms. “does my hand in my left pocket and the other holding my blackberry look natural? i hope so”. i don’t try to text and walk at the same time, OR the ultimate lame maneuver-trying to (pretending to) read a book while i walk, cuz that shit is ridiculous. have you ever seen a person doing that? i have! it was a guy. if i’d had a dick, i would have had an instant hard off. that shit is worse than the dude with the laptop at a coffee house talking about writing a screen play. crazers! so, i just walk. and as long as my hands are accounted for, i don’t make too much eye contact with crazies, and ignore the pick-up truck trolling me, I’m cool.
I was in a relationship for 5 years! i was too young to be playing house, but I’ll never say i regret the experience because i learned a lot, traveled the world, and learned what i DON’T want for myself. there was blackout drinking, anger, fighting, jealousy, and rages mistaken for/disguised as passion. and in august 2007, we broke up. he was in a band. he was everything i thought i wanted: skinny, angry, successful, reminded me of my dad, dressed cool. he even had an accent. i was born and raised in Hollywood, and he was from Melbourne Australia. sure there were countless cultural differences, and he just barely understood my sense of humor (not to worry-i just developed an alternate personality that didn’t make him mad-and when i couldn’t keep that up, and reverted back to being myself, we fought. no big deal. i was so proud when i discovered i was a changeling and could morph my personality to serve whatever situation i was in.) but, so what! we looked good on paper, and i was convinced this was what i wanted. we had moved in together, he paid for most of the stuff. i was in sooo deep. leaving would have been sooo hard. how would i be able to extricate myself from the situation? when it was good it was great, and when it was bad, i wanted to die. i even cried in the dark during sex once. and i was so covert about it, he didn’t even notice! am i rad or what?! one new years eve we went to a party at that girl from no doubts house! it was a rager! i was drinking, and so was he. i only drank every once in a while, and normally i was a fun drunk, but when the 2 of us were together, with unresolved resentment just barely lurking under the surface, alcohol was our worst enemy. it ended with us in a limo amongst friends and acquaintances, him calling me a c***t and me throwing a glass of vodka and ice in his face while sitting not 1 foot away from him. yikes, that must have hurt. I’m sorry. i jumped out of the limo and started running up Bronson. the car stopped and i was dragged back in. we continued dating for 2 more years. we were even engaged. but in august of 07, i left. and that’s when i became the mayor of excitement city. i got my own place, remembered i had friends, and started dating like crazy! blind dates, recaps with my girlfriends the next morning over coffee! i was a woman! and obviously trying to recreate carrie bradshaws life! and now, i’m the happiest i’ve ever been in my life.