Officially going to see Blue is the Warmest Color (ou, vraiment, La Vie d’Adèle: Chapitre 1 & 2) on Saturday and there’s so much excitement welling up within my chest it’s had to find other places to well up in, like my fingers and toes
Tonight I learned—over pinot grigio and a jacuzzi—that it isn’t always snowing in Sweden. I also learned that the Swedish are much more relaxed about sex than Americans.
I also learned it feels good to have a couple friends who aren’t American. Like, so good.
I feel so threatened by beautiful women of color.
I think I feel like that because I find them painfully beautiful, undoubtedly more so than I find myself. And not in a put-them-in-a-L’Oréal-ad way, in an I-think-I-just-fell-in-love way.
Also in a way that makes them seem delicate and lady-like and unreachable and inhuman.
There are probably 3 culprits to this weird disease of mine:
1. Women of color actually ARE more beautiful than most white women, myself included
2. I’m insecure about my own thoughts and Self really, so I cling to the concept of outward beauty and use it to compare myself to others constantly
3. I might be a little bit of a lesbian
I may just become an Adele Exarchopoulos fan blog. I have the biggest crush on her.