I swear I’m not stoned.
I don’t know why I find it so FUNNY whenever a celebrity writes me an email, which isn’t all that often.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to do celebrity name-droppings, which I find terribly annoying (and frankly, when I see people doing it, I find it to be a desperate attempt to prove they are with the “in crowd”). I have enough security in myself to not name-drop every freaking famous person I’ve had contact. I do just well name-dropping myself, thank you
Do I secretly feel unworthy of receiving letters from famous celebrities? (Notice I said famous, not rich.) It’s certainly not the money that intimidates me, because I’ve got clients who make 10-figure incomes and feel totally natural around them. But for some reason, fame makes me laugh. It seems so superficial, but yet - it is a very real world for some people. Or perhaps it’s only in my perception that they’re famous, when they don’t think they are.

Do I laugh cause I wonder if it’s really him/her? Possibly. I’ve been fooled before by imposters. But then again, I’ve asked some people to verify their identities in shocking ways (like saying a certain word on tv), and then I feel THEY’VE had the last laugh. I suppose it’s my own private game. When they DO verify their identities, I start laughing hysterically (why do I DO that?)….

Or maybe I laugh because I “know” who they are. But that makes me laugh even more because there are so many people who think they “know” who I am and then it just sends me into this vicious cycle of just what fame is. What is fame? What is it not? And how do you know? What do you need to know to not know this? Grr.

Or do I laugh cause I know their secrets and must keep it to myself? Could be. I still laugh my ass off thinking of a certain politician wearing diapers, who stopped calling me when I started working at Niteflirt (cause we couldn’t do calls about adult babies). And oooohhh I’ve got incriminating evidence on so many people. (I often feel like the hypno version of Heidi Fleiss, to tell you the truth.) I know I might regret saying this later, but I often fantasize about the government finding my little black book (which I don’t really have, it’s just a figure of speech), and tracking down my kinky customers and saying, “Is it true you had THIS fantasy with Isabella Valentine?”

Or maybe I laugh because I’m dreadfully nervous of being around them? A nervous laugh perhaps. I have no idea. Kind of like the time I went to an LA bar and played pool with an A-list actor where I nervously laughed so much that all I could think about was how ridiculous I must have sounded.

I swear, I can’t stop laughing. And it’s killing me cause it would be SO wrong to tell you WHO wrote me and what they shared with me.

*bangs head*

I will stop. I am annoying MYSELF at this point with all the laughing.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxo

P.S. I feel really weird re-reading this entry. I know it sounds stupid. Funny thing is, I don’t care. (There goes the word funny again.)