Although I love to delve into a stash of People or Us Weekly, I am becoming less and less jealous of the celebrities. As I grow more comfortable in my own skin, the more I realize I would not want to be famous. Although the wardrobe would be nice, the alluring look of fame becomes duller as each day passes. Last week during a rainstorm I strolled into Walmart (one of my least favorite stores) with very minimal makeup. Before leaving the house I rubbed some eyeshadow on with the aid of my finger (since I was too lazy to get my brushes out) and put some Vaseline on my lips. If a celeb went to Walmart as fresh faced as I was, the media would have a field day. As I walked past the magazines at the checkout lines I was tempted to give a good nanny nanny boo boo face to all the celebs. This got me thinking about all the stress and scrutiny celebs endure. I realize the only person who will ever have free reign to discuss my weight is my grandmother. She has never held back in the past, and I look forward to her honest opinion. I am allowed to have my fashion flubs without making it onto the "Worst Dressed List." They say the grass is always greener, but I am sticking on my side of the fence!
With Love From the West Coast,