Still in love. Also I saw her!
She shows a picture of her new dog, an Australian shepherd. “It’s so predictable,” she says. “I just left him and I already want to run back and see him.”
Puppies are like that. True. But why lop off the edges of your freedom when you’re young enough to use that freedom fully?
“Most of the time I just want to go home and throw the dog a stick,” Seyfried says. “Can anything be more obvious than throwing a stick? I need to be needed.”
This is more important to post:
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
Newsflash! Britney Spears and Drew Barrymore are old news. (I still love them though.)
I have found a new celeb to attach my affections to; a girl who seems like a better version of myself, yet who is somehow still “just like us!” But really, I appreciate her honesty.
GLAMOUR: So how do you define glamour?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: Hmm…glamour—something that is beautiful, inspired and…real.
GLAMOUR: I love that!
AMANDA SEYFRIED: It sounds like a lot of B.S.! [Laughs.]
GLAMOUR: No! It’s true: There are beautiful people out there who are not necessarily real. What’s been your most glam moment?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: The Mamma Mia! premiere in London. It was the world premiere of the one project that was going to change my life. I was wearing Miu Miu, and I needed to look amazing, because I was starting to really fall in love with my boyfriend [actor Dominic Cooper, her costar in that movie]. I wanted him to see how glamorous I could be.
GLAMOUR:: You guys look like a glamorous couple—don’t you feel like one?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: When I’m in my pajamas on Skype with him? There’s nothing glamorous about us except when people are dressing us.
GLAMOUR: How does he make you feel glamorous?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: I don’t think you can get it from a man. He says wonderful things to me…but it comes from inside.
GLAMOUR: How do you stay so grounded?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: Maybe people [in Hollywood] wear really nice clothes, and they drive really nice cars—but that doesn’t make me comfortable. And if I’m not comfortable, it won’t be a part of my life. There’s something empty about having your own VIP booth, and people staring at you, drinking and dancing—to get to what? To get drunk and sleep with somebody? I did that once. I went to a party and—this was a long time ago—I was so drunk that I ended up taking this person home and not remembering anything.
AMANDA SEYFRIED: And I woke up the next morning, and I was like, Who am I? I am not this person, I didn’t enjoy that, I wish it could all go away…. So I stopped going out.
GLAMOUR: Do you not go out?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: It’s sad, actually, because my anxiety keeps me from enjoying things as much as I should at this age.
GLAMOUR: Really? I know a lot of young women suffer from anxiety. It’s brave of you to talk about it.
AMANDA SEYFRIED: [I take] pills, long-term pills, Lexapro. It makes me tired all the time. Anxiety, it just stops your life….
GLAMOUR: Do you have panic attacks?
AMANDA SEYFRIED: [Inhales deeply.] I do. It feels like you’re going to die. There’s nothing scarier.