I was a judge at the Miss and Mr Williamsburg pageant. It was fun. It was. Lots of press. Lots of fun…
But it was my birthday night. The event was dope and they repped THE MAG like woah. BUT it was my birthday. Olivia and Sally came. That was it. Kind of a dissapointment. It hit midnight and I had Steve Aoki, Trevor, and two of my old interns giving a fuck. End.
Then no one went to Pinkberry.
I have built a career on being crazy. If I wasn’t insane, i doubt i would type openly about my life every three hours, all day long, every day. It’s why my friends love me. It’s why a lot of people hate me. It’s a blessing and a curse.
I can’t have office jobs. i don’t sit well for longer than 20 minutes. I am not good with what I refer to as “normal people.” I am easily excited and more easily upset. I have had a tough run with my family and depend on my friends way too much.. When they disappoint me, I turn on them and freak out too fast. I alienate people. I do. I know that. They tell me that. But, the other side of it…when weighing the options doesn’t tip the scale in it’s favor.
I cry at work. I watch tv for days on end, avoiding the world. My phone is on silent 99 percent of the day. That’s me. Maybe an intern would help? Maybe drugs….
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Radar did a noteworthy article, detailing the adventures of some hipster hookers. I didn’t read the article, making this “article” so much more interesting. Apparently, during said investigation, they uncover a media mag type moonlighting as a hooker. More than 10, but less than 20 of my friends, either called, texted, BBMed, IChatted, or emailed me their accusations. I issued a mass response, “If I had known about this, of course I would have done it.”
If you know me, you know i have crazy protruding collar and chest bones. If you have the internet and read this, i would presume you have seen a photo of above.
When I meet new people, they either point and announce the presence of my collar and chest bones. Or sometimes they stare blankly at my chest, while faking a conversation with me. Growing up, people just asked me why I had three boobs. Fortunately for the mean kids, my lack of boobs and pronounced chest-bone wore the same size bra. So this never got old.
My parents and pediatrician allegedly gave me an option to have surgery in 7th grade. I have no memory of this conversation. But apparently, I started laughing and yelled, “NOOOO!” I then continued laughing, got up, and left.
I don’t remember saying I didn’t want to get it fixed. But, I am glad I didn’t. Girls tend to think it’s weird. A lot of boys love it. The first time I met this boy I know a hundred years ago, he had come over to talk to me. He was being all cute, touchy, and rubbing my chest-bone saying how cool it was. It never gets old. He does it every time I see him. I ran into him last night, the first thing he did to greet me was put his hand on my chest-bone, then he hugged me and called my crazy. Shockingly.
Sam is on vacation. Apparently, she is not doing outfit updates. So I figured I should throw some fashion on you all. This should get you to Monday!
Outfit # N/A: My dad just found me sitting in the backyard, in the dark, with my laptop, in this outfit. He asked me if I was homeless. Then stared blankly at me as I stood up and more of said outfit was revealed. I tried to explain that the mosquitoes were biting me and that was why I was wearing this obviously mosquito repellent ensemble.
Date: I have no idea.
Temperature: Nighttime, like dark out, tons of mosquitoes
Mood: pass
Hairstyle: Two hoods…My hairstyle aka head was being bitten too
What I’m Wearing: Dimepiece Map-o-LA leggings , white Urban-O V-Necko, American Apparel hoodie, Hellz Bellz jacket, and to my surprise and probably all of yours as well…I have a WESC bikini on under all of this.
The new Wired magazine was sitting on Rose’s coffee table this weekend. I glanced at the cover, back up, and then realized what I saw and grabbed it. The cover is Julia Allison the most New York example of Internet celebrity one could use. The cover story is about Internet fame.
As most know I am more than a little unorganized. My voicemail box is usually full. I return Myspace messages once a month. I tried to read all my emails, responding to even the important ones is a difficult task. I can’t even keep up with my text messages and BBMs. It’s not you, it’s me.
A few months ago, I was contacted by Wired magazine. They wanted to do an interview with me about Internet celebrity and my journey to the top of the Internet fame mountain. They didn’t say that. I just made that up. Like the mountain part, the first part was true. Read more »
I shouldn’t be in charge of anything. I wouldn’t lend me your car, child, pet, or life savings. I am unable to keep track of me. Where I am, what day it is, what I am supposed to be doing, who you are. If my friends or coworkers were polled and asked to reveal the one thing that comes out of my mouth the most (insert Steve Aoki sex joke) they would definitely make a Steve Aoki sex joke and then add, “Anyone seen my Blackberry?”
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For those that are unaware, I make these really ridiculous Youtube videos where I discuss my thoughts on obscure sort of ridiculous topics for one minute flat. They involve me sitting on the floor of my room with a pile of clothes in the background usually. None of them are longer than 60 seconds. They are fairly entertaining, if you have never seen them and find yourself really bored. A lot of people aren’t that bright and or don’t have my sense of humor. Said videos anger and stress these people out. It’s really funny. So, this girl is trying to make fun of my Youtube videos. Read more »
