A successful screenwriter friend of mine always says that I would make a great actress if only for the fact that I have large eyes, a large head, and a tiny body. In his opinion, most celebrities look like a cross between an alien and a Tim Burton character; their large heads (often filled with even larger egos) teetering on fragile, insecure spines. Take one look at Angelina Jolie’s orb-like eyes and gangly limbs and you might wonder if she fell to earth in a pod.
I find this amusing as I am often told I look like Sandra Bullock. Last year I was actually photographed as the scorned Sandra - anorexia thin from stress - by some tabloid paparazzi photographer. It was either a photo of me or America’s sweetheart has the same dress, sunglasses, shoes and watch, lunches as the same restaurant as I do and dropped 20 lbs within a week after she claimed her Oscar and dumped her husband.
While I admire Sandy’s ability as an actress and envy her career, I would not want to walk three steps in her Manolos this Oscar season or trade places with her at any moment over these past twelve months - not even to be on stage receiving the award for best actress for her performance in the movie The Blind Side. Just this past week, the Internet was plastered with photos of Sandra bundled up in a camel color coat and matching Uggs with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder as she fought her way through the busy Manhattan streets en route to the gym. The media is speculating that she is trying to look her best for this year’s Academy Awards given that last year she was overshadowed by her then husband’s dalliances with Michelle “Bombshell” McGee.
Jesse James has repeatedly bitch-slapped Sandra publicly. First, he humiliated her with his multiple infidelities and Nazi leanings. Then, less than a year after his affair was exposed, after a rapid divorce from Sandy, he announced his engagement to Kat Von D, stating "2010 was actually the best year of my life because I fell in love with my best friend.” It didn’t seem Jesse could sink any lower; however, it appears there is no bottom where he is concerned. He is once again exploiting his ex-wife’s pain and capitalizing on their marriage for another 15 minutes of fame and additional financial gain (I’m sure he was sufficiently rewarded through the divorce).
A week before the awards he announced his new book deal “American Outlaw,” the content of which is not about designing motorcycles, or whatever it is that he calls a job, but rather about his life with ex-wife Sandra Bullock and his new life with soon to be new wife Kat Von D. If you ask me, he is taking the whole Jesse James namesake way too seriously given the only place he’s been outlawed from is Sandra Bullock’s bed.
I am always reluctant to talk about the misfortunes of celebrities. Idol worshipping goes against my core beliefs and I do not like exploiting public figures or perpetuating schadenfreude. Sandra is entitled to her privacy and I hope she receives some, but I fear the 2011 Oscars will be another opportunity for the media to take a swipe at her. Hopefully her publicist has her well prepared to answer questions about Jesse, his book and his fiancé and that she is not once again blind-sided by this poor excuse for a man.
Jesse James exemplifies the modern Los Angeles male in that he lacks decorum and would rather sever all nerve endings by digging the knife in deeper than slip quietly into the night and back under the rock from which he came. While we do not know what transpired behind closed doors, I don’t think any woman (celebrity or not) deserves to have her laundry (dirty or not) aired in public. Even if I had a famous ex that I could exploit in order to sell my book and create some sort of fame for myself (come to think of it, I actually do), I would never stoop that low. Shame on you, Jesse. Shame on you.