You've Got Mail, Bitch 10.8.2020
okay this is randomly my newsletter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hi and even hello. My name is Gabrielle Luna Bryan but the masses know me as simply "Gabby". If I can be honest for once... I've always wished my name was Madeline because it sounds more French. I think it's unfair that both my parents aren't French which ultimately makes me not French. My dad is from North Jersey and my mom is from South Jersey which just makes me a steaming hot pile of empty cans. I just want to be a skinny Parisian girl, laughing quietly over a scone wearing an outfit that is entirely slate grey while smoking the tiniest cigarette you've ever seen. A cigarette so thin, it barely registers to the human eye. I once watched a video of the "10 Ways to Act More like a French Woman" and one of them was to "act like you don't care about anything" which is hard because I want everyone to be my best friend. Another one was to "start smoking" but my dad said I'm not allowed.
I know what you're thinking: this girl seems blonde. I can tell by the way she types. And you're right. I am naturally blonde like a princess. I tried to dye my hair red once and everyone was obsessed with telling me it looked bad. Did it bring out my rosacea? Yes. Did I know I had rosacea at the time? No. I thought I just got red in the face anytime anyone looked at me, stood near me or wore perfume. Ultimately, I thought I was shy. Which is crazy because I literally do not stop speaking, typing and texting about every boy I've ever met or seen. I'm in 15 group texts with 15 of the same people in different combinations. I love this.
Okay back to the vibe of this being a newsletter. YES, anything can be if a vibe if you call it a vibe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I remember the first time I heard someone say "VIBE" and I thought.. I hope this person gets hit by a semi. Then I started saying it a bunch absolutely making fun of those people. Now I believe it's actually a cool thing and THAT'S gonna be a metaphor for this country. Yes... I'm being political in my newsletter suddenly.
HERE'S THE PEOPLE I HOPE READ THIS:
1. My Crush
2. My Crush
3. My Crush
4. My Dad (the original crush)
5. My Ex Boyfriend (Once a crush, now deemed an anti-crush)
6. My Ex Ex Boyfriend who I now have a crush on again (He's in AA, congrats to him!)
7. My Ex Ex Ex Boyfriend who's married to a girl that has my exact face (congrats to him and to her for being gorgeous)
8. My Crush based in Orange County
9. My Crush based in London, actually.
10. My Ex Ex Ex Ex Boyfriend who is now a gay orthodontist in one of the Carolinas.
I think because the world is ending I've decided to double down and be an actress. I think this is the perfect time to be in a movie in which I play a 22 year old girl with no worries in the world, other than the eating disorder her mom gave her and the eating disorder her step-mom gave her. One has to do with eating too much and catch this, one has to do with not eating at all. Yet, both involve knowing the amount of calories in a single jar of peanut butter. I want to play a women in the HEIGHT of The Plague, the only girl in her village who didn't get it and remains gorgeous and people are like.... "how?????????". Then everyones husband falls to their knees in front of me, offers me 100 roses and I say "no thank you, I'm very committed to my boyfriend in Miami." I want to play a girl in a timeless era (2003) in a nameless place who is "too big for this stupid little town" and then moves to Los Angeles and ultimately hates it. These are the roles my blonde face was born to play. This is my purpose and even my calling. And then in 20 years, I will come full circle by playing the step-mom who gives her daughter her hand-me-down double zero jeans while saying "I wore these until I was 40". I'm an actress.
I need to stop starting sentences with "and". Are we still not allowed to do that? Whatever. I just think run on sentences have more flavor. No one has ever gotten a blow job by having good grammar.
I think if I wasn't an actress/comedian/creator/artist/freelancegirlqueen I'd be a lawyer. Mostly because I can be a real bitch to my roommate and convince him I never have to do the dishes because of sexism. In combination with the fact that, growing up in New Jersey, I was taught to fight bouncers if they even looked at me weird. Every Thanksgiving Eve at the same time (somewhere between 7PM and 1AM) I drink several vodka red bulls (I would confidently say ... 13) and I'd look up at a 300 pound 6'4 bouncer and I say something along the lines of "Do you know who I am?". Then I wake up in my bed. What I'm trying to say is... I've passed the bar exam.
In other news..
I was the fly.
In other news...
If you're having a guy sleep over your house he has to do one chore per visit or NO ALLOWANCE!!!!
In other news...
A question for the jury. Do you think if I take more Vitamin C, I'll finally meet my soul mate?
I am going through a break up. During quarantine I accidentally got into a dead serious relationship with a man with both neck and butt tattoos. He also had several gold teeth. He was randomly the 3rd guy I've dated with gold teeth for fashion. So yes, I have HPV. Every time we got into a fight, my mantra would be "what will happen if I just keep dating him?". Thank god I got rid of my therapist 6 months earlier, just in time to finally go through something. I met him on Raya, not to brag. Then he CHEIFED cigarettes our entire first date which made me fall instantly love with him. He wouldn't sleep with me right away, saying that he liked me too much... which DID make me feel ugly. Then when he finally brought me home (3 days later) I realized that he slept with an open sleeping bag on his bed instead of a comforter. I said "LOL" out loud and then I dated him for 7 months.
He ribbon danced with a red flag for the entirety of our relationship but I was too distracted by the choreo to notice. I don't want to talk that much shit about him because I think that'll make my step-mom mad at me (she had a crush on him and texted him throughout our relationship) (Step-parents don't have boundaries because they are too busy trying to "be your friend".) I also think that traumatized men don't really work it out until they're 37 and he was just 32 (16 in a girl years). The relationship could be described under the Brooklyn coverall phrase of "emotionally abusive" which could mean hundreds if not thousands of different things. But he was soooooooooooooo hot, so I do ultimately forgive him.
Going through a heart break during a world pandemic has made me realize that nothing matters and if I buy a houndstooth co-ord set on ASOS.com I will be happy forever.
I've actually never learned one lesson in my life and I'd like to keep it that way.