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	<title>IMBOYCRAZY.COM &#187; new york city</title>
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	<link>http://www.imboycrazy.com</link>
	<description>A pep talk in the form of a slap in the face in the form of a blog.</description>
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		<title>look how hard i work for you:</title>
		<link>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2009/01/look-how-hard-i-work-for-you/</link>
		<comments>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2009/01/look-how-hard-i-work-for-you/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 14 Jan 2009 07:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>boycrazy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[alexi wasser]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[delusional downtown divas]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[isaac mizrahi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lena dunham]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[new york city]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[soho]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[woody allen]]></category>

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		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>i used to be so scared:</title>
		<link>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2009/01/i-used-to-be-so-scared/</link>
		<comments>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2009/01/i-used-to-be-so-scared/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Jan 2009 07:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>boycrazy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[alexi wasser]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[disneyland]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[high school girls and men in their forties]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[new york city]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I used to be so grateful when a guy liked me. So thankful he had put his attention on me. Until one day, I grew up and became a bit more discerning. I realized that I have a say in who I let into my life. That they should be so lucky to be inside [...]<div style="margin-top: 20px;" class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style " addthis:url='http://www.imboycrazy.com/2009/01/i-used-to-be-so-scared/' addthis:title='i used to be so scared: '  ><a class="addthis_button_facebook_like" fb:like:layout="button_count"></a><a class="addthis_button_tweet"></a><a class="addthis_counter addthis_pill_style"></a></div>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SWo7KsT426I/AAAAAAAAAT4/eI45SK-AaOo/s1600-h/pierrot_le_fou_image_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SWo7KsT426I/AAAAAAAAAT4/eI45SK-AaOo/s400/pierrot_le_fou_image_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290105767179377570" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">I used to be so grateful when a guy liked me. So thankful he had put his attention on me. Until one day, I grew up and became a bit more discerning. I realized that I have a say in who I let into my life. That they should be so lucky to be inside me and a part of my world. Just because they were skinny or stylish or just, well, a dude- didn&#8217;t mean they were the be all, end all. just because they were men, and spending time with me, didn&#8217;t mean they were gods and that i had to be appreciative of the fact that they chose me. me! i don&#8217;t know exactly WHEN i realized that </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">I&#8217;m</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"> just as important as i thought they were, but </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">I&#8217;m</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"> so happy that day came! it&#8217;s changed me forever and for that i am grateful! Unfortunately, I really love make outs- so I still made out a ton after i had this epiphany! But at least it was much more thought out and i was the one doing the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><a href="http://immikep.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">choosing</span></span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">.</span></p>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>I&#8217;m not allowed to be sad:</title>
		<link>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/12/im-not-allowed-to-be-sad/</link>
		<comments>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/12/im-not-allowed-to-be-sad/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 08 Dec 2008 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>boycrazy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[alexi wasser]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dactyl]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[deitch]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[elizabeth peyton]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mtv]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[new art museum]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[new york city]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[plaid shirts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[statue of liberty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the hills]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[uniqlo]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[virgin america]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://s64881.gridserver.com/2008/12/im-not-allowed-to-be-sad.html</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Today I&#8217;m on my way home from new york. i was here shooting a movie. it was great, and now it gets even better&#8230;i get to fly VIRGIN AMERICA!!!! yayzers! i truly feel that anything Richard Branson touches is golden! i love you! Here&#8217;s me, trying to keep busy during the downtime. it&#8217;s like audrina [...]<div style="margin-top: 20px;" class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style " addthis:url='http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/12/im-not-allowed-to-be-sad/' addthis:title='I&#8217;m not allowed to be sad: '  ><a class="addthis_button_facebook_like" fb:like:layout="button_count"></a><a class="addthis_button_tweet"></a><a class="addthis_counter addthis_pill_style"></a></div>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STHS9sp00ZI/AAAAAAAAABI/Gd45hx-J2mg/s1600-h/Klein450.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274228596028002706" style="cursor: hand; width: 400px; height: 313px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STHS9sp00ZI/AAAAAAAAABI/Gd45hx-J2mg/s400/Klein450.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a></p>
<div><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">Today I&#8217;m on my way home from new york. i was here shooting a movie. it was great, and now it gets even better&#8230;i get to fly VIRGIN AMERICA!!!! </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">yayzers</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">! i truly feel that anything Richard </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">Branson</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;"> touches is golden! i love you!</span></span></p>
<p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STK5okjMZVI/AAAAAAAAADw/OIszF4R0wX8/s1600-h/l_bd601154c879c586b89e77a758465f4e.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274482220261467474" style="float: left; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; cursor: hand; width: 320px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STK5okjMZVI/AAAAAAAAADw/OIszF4R0wX8/s320/l_bd601154c879c586b89e77a758465f4e.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><br />
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<div><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">Here&#8217;s me, trying to keep busy during the downtime. it&#8217;s like </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">audrina</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"> on the hills once said- sometimes you have to be your own best friend. or maybe that was </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">whitney</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"> or </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">lauren</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"> or </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">heidi</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">. never mind! fuck i love that show! anyways: People are dying,children are starving, and I can&#8217;t find the perfect outfit! My god, does it ever get easy??? I am a monster.</span></span></div>
<div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SToXMLR0_WI/AAAAAAAAAKk/vPfrRjIIIQ4/s1600-h/dress+room.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276555411371392354" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SToXMLR0_WI/AAAAAAAAAKk/vPfrRjIIIQ4/s400/dress+room.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SToXBtAFcNI/AAAAAAAAAKc/qa0IMprnaBw/s1600-h/more+dress.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276555231445217490" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SToXBtAFcNI/AAAAAAAAAKc/qa0IMprnaBw/s400/more+dress.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SToW7DUkenI/AAAAAAAAAKU/rk46j4BgLPo/s1600-h/bug+eyes.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276555117177633394" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/SToW7DUkenI/AAAAAAAAAKU/rk46j4BgLPo/s400/bug+eyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">I went to the </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">elizabeth</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"> </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span class="&lt;br /&gt; span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">peyton</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"> show at the new art museum. she&#8217;s my favorite painter. i think she&#8217;s </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';">boycrazy</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"> too.</span></span><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo3TUKX2nI/AAAAAAAAALE/eZolTWuBkdg/s1600-h/peeyton.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276590718387214962" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo3TUKX2nI/AAAAAAAAALE/eZolTWuBkdg/s400/peeyton.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo2fd7qIaI/AAAAAAAAAK8/K04zFQIG9TI/s1600-h/Elizabeth-Peyton.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276589827656655266" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo2fd7qIaI/AAAAAAAAAK8/K04zFQIG9TI/s400/Elizabeth-Peyton.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo2ffQYdKI/AAAAAAAAAK0/DDYSnO32iCc/s1600-h/Elizabeth+Peyton,+Jarvis.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276589828012012706" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 400px; height: 330px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo2ffQYdKI/AAAAAAAAAK0/DDYSnO32iCc/s400/Elizabeth+Peyton,+Jarvis.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo2NauO1gI/AAAAAAAAAKs/cwwW2hodHFo/s1600-h/cover_full.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276589517557388802" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 343px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STo2NauO1gI/AAAAAAAAAKs/cwwW2hodHFo/s400/cover_full.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">On a side note, can I send my </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">American</span></span></span><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;"> apparel tote bag to the dry cleaners? I&#8217;m at a crossroads </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">cuz</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;"> I REALLY don&#8217;t want it to shrink in the wash, but its </span></span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">sooo</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;"> dirty and needs to be cleaned. I wonder if everyone can tell how filthy my tote bag is, or if its just me? just another thing weighing me down and is quite honestly, borderline shameful. I let you know what happens.</span></span></div>
<div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STX6N-3_zWI/AAAAAAAAAHw/AP0gg5zJTWs/s1600-h/a+lib.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275397656657513826" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: hand; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RuMKVwUM5E4/STX6N-3_zWI/AAAAAAAAAHw/AP0gg5zJTWs/s320/a+lib.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-top: 20px;" class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style " addthis:url='http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/12/im-not-allowed-to-be-sad/' addthis:title='I&#8217;m not allowed to be sad: '  ><a class="addthis_button_facebook_like" fb:like:layout="button_count"></a><a class="addthis_button_tweet"></a><a class="addthis_counter addthis_pill_style"></a></div>]]></content:encoded>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Next Day&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/11/the-next-day/</link>
		<comments>http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/11/the-next-day/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Nov 2008 10:40:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>boycrazy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[crazy girls]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[don't eat pie]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fan mania]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[king of comedy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[nerd patrol]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[new york city]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[woody allen]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[So it&#8217;s the day after Thanksgiving. I&#8217;m hoping none of us gained over 4 pounds. I hate how hard people try to make you fat during holidays. i went on a date last night, and every time his grandmother offered me pie-it was borderline relentless, i would just point to my date and say that [...]<div style="margin-top: 20px;" class="addthis_toolbox addthis_default_style " addthis:url='http://www.imboycrazy.com/2008/11/the-next-day/' addthis:title='The Next Day&#8230; '  ><a class="addthis_button_facebook_like" fb:like:layout="button_count"></a><a class="addthis_button_tweet"></a><a class="addthis_counter addthis_pill_style"></a></div>]]></description>
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<span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">So it&#8217;s the day after Thanksgiving. I&#8217;m hoping none of us gained over 4 pounds. I hate how hard people try to make you fat during holidays. i went on a date last night, and every time his grandmother offered me pie-it was borderline relentless, i would just point to my date and say that he said i wasn&#8217;t allowed or else I&#8217;d have to walk home. that got her off my back, and yet i still feel guilty. there&#8217;s only so much layering black tights can do! they say sex burns calories, but it sounds too easy. </span></span></p>
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<div><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">anywayzies, a few months ago i went to new york to see woody Allen play at the Carlyle hotel. he plays clarinet in a jazz band. they made a documentary about it called &#8220;wild man blues&#8221;. i went alone. flew to NY on a Monday, arrived in the  city at 5pm, the show started at 8pm, and i was due to leave at 6am the next morning. my goal was to meet woody Allen. to speak to him, to have him look me in the eye. to have an experience, a memory that no one could ever take away from me. (really, i wanted him to see me, fall in love with me like he has with scarlet j, and put me in every movie he makes till he dies&#8230;&#8230;) after he played, i stood by the door that the matradee said he would leave through. i walked up next to him, not being ugly helped, and I&#8217;m also a girl&#8230;..so the cards were in my favor. i was wearing a navy blue high waisted tulip skirt and a creme colored Marc by Marc Jacobs lace blouse. black tights and flats. i felt good. his big Italian looking security guy looked happy about me approaching, what a great day! I&#8217;m amazing! i said &#8220;that was great Mr. Allen.&#8221; Mr. Allen? who the fuck did i think i was? i was nervous. &#8220;oh, thank you.&#8221; he said. &#8220;can i ask you a potentially super embarrassing question?&#8221; &#8220;of course, what&#8217;s your name?&#8221; &#8220;Alexi&#8221; &#8220;yeah, but you have to talk louder, cuz I&#8217;ve been playing jazz all night and i can&#8217;t hear very well.&#8221; i leaned in to him, put my hand lightly on his arm, bent down a bit-I&#8217;m a towering 5&#8217;11, while he is not. &#8220;well, um, this is so unlike me, i swear to god, but if i don&#8217;t do this I&#8217;ll regret it for the rest of my life, and it&#8217;s just that you&#8217;re so hard to get to, so that&#8217;s why I&#8217;m acting like a crazy person and gonna ask you&#8230;um, really I&#8217;ve never done this, and don&#8217;t think I&#8217;m not judging myself as i do this&#8230;cuz i am, and normally i would be mortified, but&#8230;.the only thing i want in the whole world is to be in one of your films. how would i go about doing that?&#8221; there! i did it! i jumped off the cliff, and behaved like someone i would normally ridicule and make fun of&#8230;but now i was that person. i guess you have to be &#8220;that person&#8221; everyone once in a while. woody Allen looked at me and smiled. i tried to look as cute and interesting and smart as i could while i held his gaze for those 15 seconds. he said &#8220;you wanna be in one of my movies&#8221; &#8220;yes, i can actually act and I&#8217;m very interesting looking&#8221; yes, i really said that! cuz wouldn&#8217;t you tell someone you admire how interesting YOU look in the only opportunity you might ever have to talk to them?! DUH! he smiled and laughed, and told me to send my head shot and resume to his office &#8211; he gave me a specific womans name, and said to write a note saying that we had met and had a chat at the Carlyle&#8221;&#8230;..blah blah blah&#8230;&#8230;in an ideal world, what did i expect? probably a chauffeured Bentley to roll up and for me, woody and the Italian bodyguard dude to get in and go to JFK and immediately start shooting his new film with me as the lead&#8230;.followed by the red carpet screening an hour after we wrap production, and flowers and champagne all for me! and rave reviews, etc&#8230;.but this was what it was. and it was pretty exciting. all i had set out to do was to be brave enough to talk to woody Allen. he made stardust memories, Hannah and her sisters, Annie hall, Manhattan, etc. movies that have shaped the person I&#8217;ve grown up to be. films that are responsible for the way i think, taste, sense of humor, and even style. by now, hords of people were yelling for Woody&#8217;s autograph, and my &#8216;woody Allen and me&#8217; bubble was about to be popped. so as he turned away to sign a book (without feathers), i slunk off into the night. i had an early plane to catch. </span></span><a href="http://myspace.com/chloesebastionoliver"><span style="font-family:'courier new';"><span style="font-size:small;">Happy Thanksgiving.</span></span></a></div>
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<div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; ">Here&#8217;s a scene from the movie &#8220;King of Comedy&#8221;. I might as well be Sandra Bernhard and Woody Allen could easily be Jerry Lewis. Have a great summer, K.I.T, xoxo</span></div>
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