Gag Me With A Journal

If you ever want to know how truly lame you are, just crack open an old journal. I was going over some today and came across this entry...

***Warning: there's a few roll-eyes and gag worthy moments.  Actually the entire entry is pretty ridiculous. I shouldn't be posting this but I'm going to. Read at your own risk. 

Allow me to set the stage with this photo: 

"Sitting along most nights in my apartment I consider this strange life I now led.  I have money in the bank.  I no longer have to worry about paying rent.  I have editorial spreads, I have enviable runway credits, my face is on billboards, busses, phone booths and magazine covers.  I am all over the place.  I have arrived!  ...I think?

I think that I just don’t understand the meaning of success. I mean, I think I have it. I'm supposed to be happy right?  I have a reputation. I'm dating one famous person after another. I've flown the concorde and private jets.  I  stay in some of the most beautiful hotels in the world.  I party like a serious rock star. I've drunk only champagne for a week straight.  I've danced with the stars.  My parents are proud of me and they have the proof in pictures that their daughter has made it.  And yet, I am still all alone and this chaos surrounding me is just confusing me more.  I still don’t feel I have a friend.  That’s what I want is a girlfriend. Why don’t I ever feel safe to be with people?"

So that's the angst-y self-pity mindset I found myself in.  Woe is me, I'm 21 and can't find a friend amongst all this awesomeness.  Ugh. It's so embarrassing to read now but I really felt like that then. 

My life has changed.  Friends routinely smack me upside the head when I forget about all the blessings that surround me today, as I expect them to do so now, journal entry ex post facto.  

On another note...  I feel a wee-bit bad talking about Karen's chubby stage in modeling.  So, here is a great photo of Karen Elson:  

See... she's not chubby anymore!