[i of course never look to celebrities for identification or wisdom or solace, but they are public domain, unfortunate specimens of public scrutiny--and well, i just happen to know the more famous people born on my birthday (david duchovny+garrison keillor+ mata hari = sex-addicted self-obsessed writing spying executed attention-whore) and maybe we do fit in a club of weirdos because i CAN RELATE (sometimes)(occasionally) (often!) (NEVER).]
however: feeling some identification with charlize theron (august 7, 1975) is really unexpected. what could i possibly have in common with amazon beauty from south africa? but in this vogue article.. i identify ! she betrayed me and the weirdo club but i feel so comforted too:
"Many beautiful actresses will call attention to their flaws over lunch as if to say, 'Look, I'm human too!' But when Charlize launches into her own list, there's something else at work. She's afraid of flying, she tells me. She's afraid of growing old and being alone. She's afraid of insulting people. She feels like she's shadowed constantly by a sense of remorse for some inappropriate thing she's just said. ('People tell me that cocaine makes you feel superhuman and you'll say anything. Then when you come downlike all of a sudden you have guilt," she says. "But I have that feeling innately, even without the cocaine.')"
No comments:
Post a Comment