Saturday, 13 November 2010

Nicole Richie's Wussiest Fan

Yes.  That would me.
Sigh....Nicole Richie, how I love thee.  How you influence 85 percent of my wardrobe choices.  How you inspire me.  How I admire your humor.  You're so cool.

Alright , alright, I know I may sound a bit stalkerish right now, but in reality, I'm not.  I just like to sound like it.
So as you can tell by now, I'm a HUGE fan of Nicole Richie.   Ever since her Simple Life days, I have been a big fan of this wild child socialite turned cool stylish bohemian mother.  I mean, just LOOK at how she dresses.  It's outfits like this

and this
and these

that always kees me looking for her in celeb magazines just  to see what she's wearing.  She's such a fashionista.

Anywho, so as soon as I found out she was going to be making an appearance near my work, I took the chance to go and see her.

So I did, and this is what I did when I saw here.  NOTHING.
YES!  I'm such a wuss,  as soon as I turned the corner and saw her through the window of the book store, I felt like running.  You know that feeling you got when you were little and you liked that one little boy in your class?  You would go out of your way to "run" into him in during recess, when you found his number you would call, only to hang up at the sound of his first hello?  Well, I felt the same little girl way when I saw Nicole.  
My first reaction was to make a U-turn and go back home because I saw the back of her head.

After a few minutes of shuffling and talking to myself about if I should go or not (I'm sure I resembled the fellow animated homeless people who had constant conversations with themselves), I finally sucked it up and went inside the bookshop.  
When I first saw her.  I smiled super big, but tried to keep it cool, so I blended in with the other fans who were taking pictures and did as the Romans did. 

Then....she took a break from signing and looked up.  And she stared right at me for about 30 secs.  I got so nerverous, I covered my face with my phone and pretended I was taking a picture of her. 
This was the outcome.  After she turned her head, I really did take a pictures, but I was so nervous it came out blurry.

 Ugh, such an idiot.  THEN, I "casually" walked around the store and checked out a few books pretending I was really there to find a book, then I took one last look and left.  

I.  Couldn't.  Believe.  Myself.

No matter how big of a celebrity whore I am, I just can never fight that nervous feeling of going up to them and saying hi or asking for their John Hancock.  Total failure.

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