Anonymous Celebrity

I´m sorry, I have to share this recent exchange with you (and the news).

Woa! This is a change of tone. But, it does fit in with the whole Celebrity 'x' persona: you want attention. You want us to tell you that we love you. Well, we don't really love you. We're just obsessed with you. We're fantasizing about you. You're rich and famous, and we're struggling nobodies. You're in sunny California and we're in rainy nowhere -- well I'm in New York, which I prefer over L.A. -- but I live in a small apartment and I have to deal with some dick across the street who thinks he's a hip-hop star, rapping on his front stoop at 2 in morning, keeping me up all night, while you're in your penthouse apartment, hanging out with real hip-hop stars.

Drink the wine, enjoy the Xanax...write us about it. Tell us about how you meet with Cruella, but it's fun because your still sort of high. Give us an insider's view into lunch with another A-lister. The shit you talk about...like how all stars smoke in private. That was good shit. Think of something creative. You're capable of it. This blog is proof of that. Be our mercenary A-list celebrity.

Fame and attention don't come for free. You entertain us, help us with our fantasies and we'll pay you back.

Posted by: name removed

I just don´t know if I have the energy anymore, I´m sorry. I´m thinking of folding the site if I can´t get more. I´m sorry ... I´ve heard too many empty promises and I have too much on the line to make this worthwhile

Posted by: Anonymous Celebrity

Thank you for your support though, it´s just ... I have TOO MUCH to lose for this kind of mediocre response.

Your Anyonmous Celebrity  "x"

p.s. I am giving this 24 hours to close so everyon can delete their links.

It's getting late now, and I find myself here, writing to you, the unknown, the anonymous: the peurile technofile, the meliflous diarist, the passionate, the young, the unabated. I am alone now - my big, swaggering, Movie Star date got up this afternoon - remoreseless - and  left me with a bottle of wine and a couple of Xanax to feed my fraying consciouence, and it is here it lies, on keys of my keypad, like a tender matrix of dispassionate algorythms, waiting to be brought to life.

Sean Wilsey says that "beauty is like money from God". I have money from both God and man, then: I am blessed by both the heavens and the cosmos. Looking down from up here on high in my penthouse apartment the view is dizzying, like some escalating vertigo of a pending, uncertain world. I'm fucked - trashed, wrecked, tired, ghosted by the magic of heights.

... And I'm turning to you, writing to you - you all - just to hold my hand while I look down here, just to hold it and squeeze it and tell me to wait around a little ...

Your Anonymous Celebrity 'x'

The great Vivienne Westwood once said, “You have a much better life if you wear impressive clothes”. Let me just make one thing clear: when partying with the “A” list set, I COULD NOT AGREE MORE!!! Last night was crazy, crazy, crazeeeee … in fact, I can’t believe I’m about to share what I am with you darlings. But I PROMISED. I know. It’s just … well, you’re about to see anyways. I am, however, going to put up a HUUUUUUGEE disclaimer here. What I am about to share with you is highly highly HIGHHHHHH-UPPPP TOP-SECRET-BEHIND-THE-SCENES-BAD-ASS CELEB NEWS. OKAY, so all the names are removed and everything, but it’ll still take anyone who knows about this kind of thing only about ….. well, let’s see … two and a point tenth of a minute to figure out who/what/where/when. But such is my addiction, my total obsession with this goddamn thing called blogging (does every blogger have this thing – “obsession to the profession”?), that ME gonna SHARE!

First of all, however, I have been taking a long look at all your sweet and charming and helpful comments and links and weblogs. OKAY … WOW, some of this is seriously impressive shit! I never knew there was a whole community out there like this, blogging away … it’s like one of those subversive media packs, hacking away in underground basements in the middle of a the chaos of the adbusting society we all elusively pledge ourselves to … it’s like … a mission. So … I’m inventing a new word for this – and it’s not blogsphere, blogzone, blogland or anything so techy and geeky (because – I have to admit, I thought this whole thing was ULTRA-GEEKY when I first started out – but it’s not, it’s like, as I say, sooooooo totally radical). My new name for us, my new name for this REVOLUTION OF PRIMMADONNAS is: THE BLOGORAZZI!!!

So … welcome … welcome … WELCOME BLOGORAZZI! Pass that name out there, blog about it, but get it out there. It came from an “A” list super-fucking-star, and it’s a super-fucking-star name for us radicals and revolutionaries of the NEW WORLD ORDER.

OKAYYYY … you might be able to tell, I’m a little hung over this morning and still just a wayyyyyyy bit drunk after all the cocktails last night. More than anything. However, I’m totally hung up on telling you about my day (you ain’t gonna-fucking-believe-it): and this is just it, the pleasure that blogging has given me: before becoming a member of the BLOGORAZZI I was sooooooooo fucking BORED by this shit – it was just shit that happened every other weekend and it tired me out, it alienated me, screwed me up I guess: but last night, as alllllll of this was going on, I was, for ONCE ……. EXCITED! JOYFUL! DAZZLED …. RAZZLED-AND-FUCKIN’-DAZZZLED (okay, it’s OFFICIAL: I AM STIL DRUNK).

Breathe deep now … breathe … breathe ……………. Here goes BLOGORAZZI (I LOVE that name) …

First, PR conference. I wore some stunning Manolo’s … (there’s a hint hint HINT for ya’ll) and a great little mini-piece thing … it was totally SEX all over. I could see the filthy dogs at the front of the corporate pack salivating and I thought: YA, DAMMIT, I AM A STAR. THIS IS WHY YOU ARE HERE: BECAUSE OF MEEEEE. (This is what I always think at these things: TIP to wanna-be celebrities: when in public BELIEVE IN YOURSELF to the point of arrogance, but never actual arrogance itself – that just sucks and makes you look pathetic like those dudes on the Idol shows). BTW, I wasn’t totally clear about what this was yesterday – it was an “invitation only” PR thing, so you may/may not see bits of it on TV, depending on what network you’re tuned into and what show (no more hints for now, soreeeeee).

The hardest part went something like this:

REPORTER: So … (I hate those sooooo’s, hey always imply something’s going be asked that has NOTHING to do with work at all and EVERYTHING to do with my personal life) … anyone in your life yet?

ME: Hmmm … (laughing: laughing because I thought about YOU, my BLOGGERS: it looked totally unprofessional and ridiculous)

REPORTER: So there IS someone new in your life. Is it name removed again?

ME: No! (Again, a totally unprofessional response: tip: NEVER ever ever ever ever ever answer a question to a journalist this way).

REPORTER: Umm …? You seem pretty mad at him?

ME: (Much more professionally now) Noooooo …we had some good times together and I think it hurt a lot and everything, but it’s over. And I have heard name removed is now dating again –

REPORTER: You mean, dating name removed?

ME: Well … yes. And I’m super happy for him. I’m just focused on keeping things going with my work and making it the best it can possibly be, and I don’t think I can ask any more of myself than that.

REPORTER: But I saw a twinkle in your eye when I asked you if you had anyone new.

ME: Well … not anyone … exactly … just wait, world, is what I gotta say!

PRGURU, who we will now call CRUELLA, after “johnnyi’s comment” (thank you thank you thank you sweetie) though that last comment was a real winner:

CRUELLA: Thatssss the kinda thing I’m talking about baby. It must be name removed (Movie Star I’m meeting later)

Which made me even happier about my blog.

After a PR gig there’s always a feeling that you’re kinda flyin’ if it went well, (which it did) and my meeting with my Managers was also a total HIT. They’ve increased my … well, let’s just call it earnings (sorry, I’m not going to reveal my job, it’s wayyyyy too sensitive) by about 55%! In fact, it just means that I’m going to make even more impact this year than I could possibly have thought – especially when I thought things were going not-too-right (55% is MASSIVE BTW – don’t ever EVER turn that kinda thing down when you’re earning in the $$$$$$$$’s).

Sooooooooooo … onto the party. The parteeeee which got me COMPLETELY DRUNK (you’ll see why).

Breathe … breathe … OKAYYYYYYY …

I arrived, in a Limo, as usual. I was wearing: “Dior Street Charm Bracelet”, diamond-and-ruby studded Chooooooooooo’s, customized white haute couture Chanel dress, white tights – i.e. SEXY AS for my friggin-A-friggin-list-friggin-movie-friggin-STAR-HOT-DATE.

After a few drinks and that you-know-how-it-is small talk where you’re basically hiding how much you like someone-who-likes-you etcetera etcetera he started to REALLY open up to me. Now, here’s some crucial background information BEFORE you read the transcript: he was MARRIED to another VERY HIGH PROFILE … hmmmmm …. until about … OKAY … that’s enough information, HE’S NOT MARRIED anymore anyays …

MOVIESTAR: … and she never quite got me. I gave her fucking everything. The fifteen cars. Done. The houses. Done. The shoes, the dresses, the dogs, the fucking cats … I hate cats … DONE. EVERYTHING. YOURS … HER’S I mean.

Sound scripted? This IS how movie stars sound, ALL the time, until they’re not in public.

ME: Did you give her your heart?

MOVIESTAR: Of course I gave her my heart? What do you mean … I gave her everything …

ME: I know but to give someone your heart is to give them everything but material shit. You and I and … her too … can buy what we fucking want. Anything we want –

MOVIESTAR: (Everyone is cutting me mid-sentence today) I take your point. I did. But she’s a different species.

It lead on … to this …OKAY, now, for advice, the following is how you handle a man of this big an EGO and SUPER STARISM BUT ONLY IF YOU ARE A ‘PROFESSIONAL’:

ME: Have you ever dated a … fan?

MOVIESTAR: What?

ME: A FAN … you MUST have dated one SOME time …

MOVIESTAR: (Interested) Does it get you hot if I have?

ME: Might do (it doesn’t, but I was trying to ask something interesting I could share with you, the BLOGOEAZZI).

MOVIESTAR: Well, can you keep a secret?

ME: Of courrrrrse (Now I DO feel fucking guilty)

MOVIESTAR: OKAY. I’ve heard about this … you’re kinky as shit ( which is true enough). So I’m gonna tell you. I’ve never actually done a fan (which is bullshit, but what he told me is worse …) When I watch back movie’s of the Premiers … and the interviews … I fantasise over all the fans, all their open mouths lookin’ at me and shit, all the older fans, the ones like fifty and shit … You do that? You like that?

And THIS is how big an ego movie stars have. Most self-respecting men, all dressed up in their tuxes at respectable nightclubs, would NEVER DREAM of telling the women they are trying to date such sick stories … but these guys think it’s sexy.

Anyway, just at about this point, WHO walks in ………. BUT ………. UMMMMM ….. HIS EX FUCKING WIFE!! She’s not with anyone either (this is SERIOUS, if EVER you see an “A” list alone in a nightclub RUN or stick around for trouble). She walked up to our table, and, taking my cocktail glass, SMASHED IT ALL OVER THE TABLE AND THREW HIS-FUCKING-COCKTAIL AT … ya, you guessed it … YOURS-FUCKIN’-TRULY. All OVER my new dress. Haute-fucking couture is an haute-friggin-mess now.

MOVIESTARSBITTEREX: You fucking SLEPT with name removed?

ME: What?

MOVIESTAR: Hey … name removed, calm –

MOVIESTARSBITTEREX: YOU FUCKING SLEPT WITH MYYYYYYYY BEST FUCKING FRIEND YOU FU-

At this point she tried to throw another cocktail glass but his security guy caught her. She was draaaaaaaaaaaged all the way out the door and safely into her limo. He didn’t chase her. I have to say, this kind of thing is pretty regular, but I didn’t realize she was in the same city even! And I was soooooo excited! I thought: wait until I tell the BLOGORAZZI about this.

THEN …

MOVIESTAR: Come ooooon, let’s just get fuuuucked up.

ME: Sounds like a plan!

And we did, except Mr.Movie-friggin-I-love-my-older-fans-so-much-I-watch-them-and-whack-off got soooo fucked up he forgot his fucking address, so YOURS TRULY took him home, where he fucking puked all over my brand-fucking-new (OKAY, it’s a year old) CARPET and where he now lies ON HIS OWN about two hundred metres away, sleeeeeping off that hangover.

So …. No sex, no rock ’n roll, but maybe something fun for you guys. I am exhausted. I just wanna say some parting things. THANKS FOR YOUR HELP. THANKS FOR READING. KENYSIA you have a future in PR – take it from me. I have thought of a great idea as a result of you. ANYONE who sends me an e mail with their address, I will send a T shirt too - then you can photograph it and put it on your blog? Cool?

Alllllsooooo ... REMEMBER (BLOG about it, dammit!) "BLOGORAZZI"!

I love you all, from a very tired, but very dedicated

Anonymous Celebrity ‘x’

Good morning world! (Or as it appears, evening for some of you)

Thought I might give you a 'hint ... hint' then as to who I am, and stop by and say a quick thank you for yesterday's lovely comments. I am off to a MAJOR PR thingy right now ... all about MEEEE and my latest 'work'.

There. That's not toooo bad as far as clues go, is it? Hmmmm .... I have a quick question too (for anyone who knows about such things). Last night I got about 1000 hits I guess. Is that good? How how hoooowwww can I get the number of hits up? Can you help me? (Tell people about it, post it some place etc.?)

Right ... just out the shower and must get changed now. My hair is still completely wet and dripping over the keyboard! And there is a HUUUUUGGEEEE party tonght, PLUS very very hot date who I'm expecting to meet who asked me out. He's a major movie star ... MAJOR. Thing is, I'm not sure if I should date him because in some ways, I'm trying to break the habit of dating other celebrities. I know he wants me (as a girl you dooooo just kind of know when a guy likes you; and this is a definite YEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!) Anyway, here's a deal: I'll tell you, name removed and everything, EVERYTHING he says to me and we do together. Is that neat?

I will write all about the party anyway.

Take a look at today's plans:

14.00 - 17.00 PR Conference

17.00 - 17.30 Limo ride to HQ

17.30 -  19.00 HQ discussion

19.00 - 19.45 Go home

19.45 - 22.45 eat, get ready for party

22.45 - Parteeeeeee with movie star

OK, enough from me .....

I love you all, truly (I can't believe I'm taking time out that I don't have to blog, but there ... proof that I do care).

Your Anyonymous Celebrity 'x'

Hmmm … Well, what a reaction! Not in all the cases the reaction I was expecting however, I have to say. First let me start off by saying I have received a whole bunch of e-mails, so if I haven’t got around to replying to yours yet, just wait … I’m a little behind when it comes to replies. On top of that of course I have all the regular fan mail, press meetings, work etc., etc. which has been going on today, and which I’m about to share with you (after I FREAK OUT at some morons in the paragraph below). Now: onto the comments and the blog updates which I’m doing, and which you can all see. It seems this blog was posted on some search sites last night which has meant lots and lots and lots of attention for meeeee – nice, nice, nice!! Glad you all think this is going to be HUGE, so do I!!

…BUT…

I think I’m allowed to have a temporary freak out for a minute after SOME of what you GUYS said (I can see the girls were mainly nice – thank you thank you thank you), so here goes (in chronological order; p.s. if you don’t know what ‘chronological’ means which clearly some of you won’t then LOOK-THE-FUCKING-WORD-UP-IN-A-DICTIONARY! If you don’t know what the word ‘dictionary’ means, as some of you, again, clearly do NOT, then fucking Google it). So: am I an A list idiot or and A list moron? Well, you know what – perhaps I AM actually both, but at least I have a fucking career and a fucking life … yah, I got a few problems, which I am boldly sharing here with you, so RESPECT THAT and SHUT THE FUCK UP if you have nothing nice to say. (That goes for everyone). I created this blog for me, and maybe for a few who might enjoy it. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. Sound arrogant? Sport, I AM Arrogance, and I have a right to be. The scariest part of this is that you guys who all badmouth people like me lie in bed at night with posters of us over your walls and jerk off like sex-craved addicts who’ve suddenly found a jar of Vicodin. Not my problem. But in some way, this IS my problem, and it is EVERY CELEBRITIES PROBLEM.

Let me explain. (Since some of you e-mailed nicely asking about how we all make such crazy, crazy money). These weird celebrity-abusers are usually the ones with ALL the posters/merchandise/shit etc. etc. that really is overpriced crap and the big companies are just ripping you off with. (I cannot believe anyone buys that shit, I really really really can’t). Here’s an example. One of my closest pals whose a HUUUUGEEEEEE pop star (maybe even bigger than me: I HATE admitting that, but credit where it’s due I guess) makes 75% of all her money, NOT selling records, but selling … ummmmm … posters/calendars/toys/watches/whatever. But you know, just because I’m the way I am I guess, some part of my heart really does go out to you. I understand what it’s like to be lonely, and I have enough of those experiences to fill all the webspace here. So you AE forgiven, just re-read the rules.

OKAY, I think I was as polite as I could be. Now, to the rest of you, ESPECIALLY TO “X11” and “Wurg” THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH for your sweetest comments. They make me feel a whole lot happier and remind me of why I started this blog thing in the first place. And I know a lot of you are probably crossing a list of celebrities off trying to guess who I am too, but that’s the fun of it. All day long I’ve been wondering whether to share something or not with you darlings. It’s kind of why I started this blog in the first place (at least, I REALLY get to tell someone other than my shrink). So I’m going to share with you in this post something REALLY secret. That’s why I really DO NOT WANT COMMENTS LIKE “duh/zzzzzzzzzzz/whatever”. This thing was never in the papers but it happened and it involves another BIG celebrity (whose name I will remove, obviously) and it kind of altered a lot of perspectives for me. To be honest, if everyone found out, I don’t really think I would care that much anymore, but I know some people who REALLY would ….

Oh! Yes! OKAY, FIRST of all I saw PR GURU (No one has come up with a name for her yet) for dinner last night. Hmmmm, I have to admit, I’m afraid of her and I was a little bit nervous … but she still hasn’t got a CLUE about this blog. The way things are going, I don’t think it’ll take very long till she does. If she does find out I am in deep deep deep deep deep deep shiiiiiiiiiiit. Because A list Celebrities, unlike what you think, are not the free people who can do/say/wear what the fuck they want/whenever they want to. We are trapped by our own success. I know it sounds cliché, but it really is true. I’ll tell you, because quite a lot of e mails were asking about this kind of thing. First of all, you get a deal with a company (this is true whether you are an actor/writer/singer/painter/what-the-fuck-ever): THEY PAY YOU. AND THEY PAY YOU MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF DOLLARS.  And when they pay you that much money they want you to behave yourself. I cannot think, for example, the impact of writing just this blog would have at HQ (that’s what I’ll call my ‘employer’s place’). Let me give you a transcript of last night’s conversation with PR GURU just to show you how much I’m under her fucking-control:

PRGURU: You know, we really got to get you a steady boyfriend, everyooooooooone is asking what you’re doing right now.

ME: I know. I wish I could find someone. (Putting on my sweetest voice for sympathy) I REALLY really REALLLLLLLLYYYYYYY wanna find someone you know?

PRGURU: Well, go out and fuckin’ find someone! I don’t get it … you primmadonnas … you’re all like sexed up the whole friggin’ time and you’re out at parties … I don’t get it. You can’t just date!

ME: I’m trying.

PRGURU: Honey, I’m trying. I’m trying to cover your ass everywhere you go and every friggin’ time you get me into more shit. You know name removed called me last night and nearly went totally crazy over the whole incident removed thing AGAIN! And it happened months ago! The papers have totally forgotten about it but name removed is still calling me about it. These guys don’t forget, name removed.

ME: I know. I’m sorry.

PRGURU: Baby, I’m trying to help you but you gotta help me. Puleeeeeeeez get with the game. I know things have been hard but don’t fuck it up, not now.

But in some weird, fucked-up, schizophrenic way I WANT that to happen. It’s fucking insane, but I think it goes back to something that happened two years ago. I need a re-invention. And I’ll share with you what happened. Take a deeeeeeeep breath ….. seriously ……

Oh! First! (Or Second … Sorrrrrrryyyyyy, I’ll tell you in a sec). I spoke with my shrink again today (THIS is what put me in such a GREAAAAAATTTTT mood). Our conversation went like this:

SHRINK: I saw the website. This is good for you.

ME: They’ll go crazy if they find out (CORPORATE, that is).

SHRINK: Sometimes you have to put yourself first. We’ve been talking about this all along.

ME: I know. And I feel good. Some of the comments are nasty.

SHRINK: It’s what you need. This is shit that everyone gets. Everyday people. Put up with it, fight back. But keep writing. People wanna know. This is majoooooorrrr prooogresssss (typical SHRINK enunciation but meant sweetly) for you.

You know, I’m not going to share “the thing”. Not today. It’s too soon. And it’s still a little too scary to face up to. Sorry for saying I would, but there is another rule I have made on the blog:

RULE: I will write and NOT recorrect what I have written. I will just apologise if I’m not ready to open up yet. EVERYTHING YOU SEE WRITTEN HERE IS WRITTEN WITHOUT EDITORIAL. I’m sorry if that means it sucks to read, but at least it’s honest. And this IS about discovering ME.

Instead I’m going to write about when I was little girl (so I’ll still give you something – because, seriously, I mean it, just getting readers last night made me soooooooooooo soooooooooooo happy). When I was a little girl I grew up in a big, beautiful house. In fall all the leaves would decorate the big rolling valleys in all those colors that I so love about this country that ran beyond the river, which was about a hundred yards from the house. By the river there was a ‘gnome’ which some family member had brought back from England (like a little elf).

As kids, we had everything we wanted: toys, movies, party dresses, limos, whatever – so picture the house, and picture my room, stuffed with shit we never needed. We were spoilt I guess, in a way. But anyway, one day I woke up – and this is a day I never ever forget – and looked down at the river and it was summer and in the face of the water I saw an image, like a person or something and it was calling out. I wasn’t scared: it was kind of comforting. And I ran down to the river still in my PJ’s as fast as I could … but it had gone. I saw the elf-thing and so I went over to it and started to talk to it, like I sometimes did (now I talk to my teddy bear in the same way). And you know what I said? I said: “I’m gonna be famous. And it’s because of today.” I don’t know why I said or felt that but it was weird, I just did. I hadn’t really thought about it before then but it just kid of occurred to me. I really hope the story gave some hope to some people who one day, wanna be the boy/girl who has it all – but really, truly, it’s the best advice I can give to ANYONE who wants to be famous: just BELIEVE it, and it WILL happen.

It’s lonely up here, but it’s crazy/fun, and YOU are my latest crazy/fun obsession. Thank you all, I have thought about you all day and I will think about you all night before I go to bed tonight and I’ll tomorrow when I write you again.

Your Anonymous Celebrity ‘x’

So … here goes. My first post. Ever. Ever … ever! This is exciting. I’m a celebrity and I’m anonymous, and I get to tell you all about the life of being a celebrity while remaining totally, uncontrollably, utterly anonymous! So how did it happen? I hear you ask. Who are you anyway? Are you really a … celebrity? Or just one of those Z-listed afternoon talk show hosts who got a ninth place in 2004 Idol?

The answer is … I’m a celebrity. An “A” list. A Hollywood-list star dammit! HUGE! HUUUUUUUUUGGGEEEEE! Hear that? You KNOW ME! In fact, about 25% of you have probably known me all your life. You’ve never known a life without me. (And I have a Hollywood-acquired ego to go with it but I also have a sweet side too which I’m sure you’ll see). Why do I tell you this if I’m remaining anonymous? Well … that’s where this story starts …

Two days ago, at about ten thirty in the morning, in a major American city (you don’t think I’m going to actually tell you which one do you – I’m anonymous, remember?!) I went to see my psychiatrist (OK, shrink, if you prefer) as usual. All aranged, nothing out of the ordinary, just a usual shrink visit. I’m accustomed to seeing a shrink (I’ve seen one since I was eight … piece of advice – if you want to become famous, get one, fast. It’s the FIRST thing you should think about doing. Because you’re REALLY going to need it). And I’m moaning and moaning and moaning (celebrities are never this honest, but I get to be, because I’m anonymous) about how life sucks and about how I wish I had more fulfilment – I don’t have a steady boyfriend (OK, that part you can know – I’m a GIRRRRRL) – and I’m sooooooo tired of all the parties and the fake “Yoooooo look soooooooo greatttttttss tonight’s”, “Did Donna giiiiiiveee you that dreesssssss???????” Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ughrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

And my shrink says: look, write a diary (she’s always saying, look, write a diary, each time as if it were the first most original idea she had ever had). And I said – as I ALWAYS do – I don’t WANT to write a diary dammit!!!!! No ones going to fucking read it! And I crave attention! It’s why I’m so fucking good at what I do! (Adult content, sorry ‘bout that, but just for the record, in “real life” I swear a lot more than that. I swear all-the-fucking-time, except when I’m-on-fucking-public-because-my-fucking-PR-Guru (A WHOLE LOT MORE ON HER TOO) says-I-can’t-fucking’say-the-word-F-U-C-K. Well here, it feels good, soooooooo good to say it in public: F-U-C-K. Ugh. FUCK that feels so good!)

Breathe. Breathe … breathe … OK, better. And so, my shrink suggests, with a twinkle in her eye; that twinkle that tells me I-have-an-idea-you-don’t, a twinkle I LOVE but which comes far too infrequently because it’s the whole reason I go to therapy in the first place: write a Blog. The following is a transcript of what followed):

ME: What? What’ a blug?

SHRINK: An online journal, an …

ME: Oh yeah … I know, like “blog”. Isn’t that for geeks?

SHRINK: It’s for anyone …

ME: Well, I’m not anyone. Jesus, name removed, what are you THINKING? THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD’S GONNA READ IT if I write a Blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s hardly a personal diary then …

SHRINK (laughing): Write it, as an anonymous celebrity. Don’t tell anyone who you are, just write it. (Pause … very long pause, the sort of pause that takes place before you French kiss your first boy/girl for the first time but when your lips are so close and your eyes are so wet and hungry that you know you’re going to). Write about your life. I’ll set it up for you. And you can just write.

ME: (After an even longer pause) OK, OK, I like the idea. I’ll set it up though. (I am eager to prove I am able to handle such feats of technological significance).But what could I say? I mean, everyone will know who I am if I say, last night, when I was smooching with name removed and secretly fantasising over last weeks sex with name removed … isn’t it a bit obvious?

SHRINK: So remove the names.

ME: Okayyyyy … so … when I went to xyz party with abc and went home with efg … that doesn’t sound too exciting.

SHRINK: NO! Don’t just write what you did. Write what you feel. It’s more important. And more interesting. No one wants to know what you did – they can read all that in the Post.

ME: Every fucking day they can!

SHRINK: (Concentrating, wary not let me get off-track) So … you gonna do it?

ME: Hmmmm. Sure. Why the fuck not. Name removed (PR GURU – let’s think up a name for her together shall we: e-mail me/post comments on suggestions – p.s. I don’t like her) will throw a major fit but OKAY, I’ll do it. Done, done, done. What should I call it?

SHRINK: Anonymous Celebrity.

ME: Hmmmmm … (She said that so quickly and matter-of-factly I suspect she had thought the whole thing up before I got here). But what if no one believes it? What if they say … this isn’t a celebrity … blah, blah, blah. Or what if someone finds out it’s me?

SHRINK: You’re always the one saying you want more excitement. More of a challenge. I’m just trying to help.

ME: (After very much consideration) You’re right. I’ll do it. Let’s see where it goes.

And that’s where this blog began. That’s why I’m anonymous. But I’ve been thinking. I mean, I really want something to come out of this. Something good. So here are the rules:

1. DO NOT ask me what I do/who I am/what I look like/where I live. I obviously won’t tell you. I may disclose more as this takes off, but just let me do that at my own pace, OKAY? But DO feel free to ask how to become famous, tips for places/parties to get seen, how to pick up agents/managers/sponsors (for any industry). These are questions I will answer gladly.
2. DO ask me how I feel and DO be nice. I get enough shit from the media without more shit from people and not enough shit about HOW AM I? (Not the kind of party-going “Ohhhhhhh, how arrrrrreeeeee yooooooooo?” but a real “I care about you and want to know how you are”).
3. Since the one thing you know about me is that I am a lady, treat me like a lady.
4. Ok, this isn’t a RULE more than me being fair and giving you another bit of crucial info – because I DO want you to enjoy this: I’m in my twenties.

OK, Can’t really think of any more rules. Now, how about we start to get to know one another? I thought for the first post everyone could respond (by e-mail or in the comments section) about how they feel about life/what they want to be (secretly), that kind of stuff. In turn, I will tell you how I feel right here, right now. I will tell you what I tell my shrink. You, my darlings, ARE my new shrinks!

I feel … exhausted. Not depressed exactly, but that moment close to depressed that I guess you feel when you’ve been lacking in any kind of real, meaningful purpose for some time. Thing is, I’m content. But it’s just that. I’m not over-the-moon or anything, just content. And I don’t like being content. Work has been treating me tough. I feel exhausted every day I get home, every morning I get up. Every time I have to go to another party I feel that sense of further exhaustion, wearing me down, making me tireder, making me more stupefied by the first principles of humanity.

I need recognition. I know this sounds selfish/egoistic/megalomaniac from a girl who is known by more than 1 billion people (last official press count) but it’s true. I really, really, really, really, really, really REALLY need someone just to tell me how well I’m doing. We ALL need that … (come one, we all need that).

Last night I put on my top and my panties (sex sells, so I guess I’ll give you some) and you know what I did after I brushed my teeth? I held onto my teddy bear (it’s life size). And right there, there in my bedroom, in my bed, then, looking into the teddy’s little snout, cuddling its fur close to me, I wanted to make love to it, such was the emotional longing to be recognized. I wanted to BE MADE LOVE TO, I have four quite brilliant lovers I could call right now, but NONE of them make me feel fucking recognized. So I got up, lit a cigarette (I smoke in private – here’s another bit of inside information: EVERY FUCKING CELEBRITY SMOKES. YOU DON’T SEE IT, BUT THEY DO) and went out onto my balcony. Then I had a glass of wine and admired the view (I have one of the most amazing views in the world) and went to sleep.

That’s me. That’s my life. This is how I feel. This is how I fall asleep when my phone’s not ringing and waking me up at random hours every morning. So I want this blog to give me a sense of recognition I guess. I want it to make the teddy bear become the first boy I ever feel in love with, bring him into my life, and open up the world to make it the exciting, exhilarating, fulfilling place it was when I first started out. I have always been rich enough, I don’t have to complain about money. But emotions … emotions are my hardest problem in life. I battle them, I fight them. I wrestle them.

And I must go for now. I love you all, really.

Your Anonymous Celebrity ‘x’