For those of you that may not know, they were "caught" in Montreal by paparazzi smooching. Upon arriving in LAX they were bombarded by the photags and found solace at a police department and ultimately snuck out the back door. Photos have also surfaced of the "love nest" they share. There has been speculation and some believe confirmation that their relationship that is real.
As for me, I kinda feel guilty for looking at the photos and reading the whore mags. There is a part of me that thinks that this is part of their career, just like folding t-shirts is part of mine. I do not like it, it is just something I have to deal with. Celebrities have to be subject to a certain amount of press and paparazzi, especially if their career is doing well. But when is enough, enough?
I thought how I would feel if someone waited for me to snap photos of me during my daily life. What if it was my life that was being exposed? What would they see, hear, and share with the world?
I leave my house without make up and sometimes without a bra. I am not perfect, I make mistakes I am not proud of. I smoke. My house is dirty and my car is not washed. I am overweight and never have worn couture. They may tell about my spastic fits of rage or my undiagnosed personality disorder. My relationships with my friends and family. If some of these were outed, I am not sure the security of wealth would balance it.
I would never be on time because I would have to fight through crowds and I could never be alone in public. All the things I take for granted would be gone.
So here is the dilemma, do I stop "googling"? Fight the urge to buy those mags with the juicy gossip? Or should I give in to my animalistic urge to find some hot photos of Robsten?
"Come on KStew, we need to practice so we can kick some Nikon toting ass"
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