I can't take it anymore!

Paparazzi, media people and web content masters---hear my cry. NO MORE CHRISTINA AGUILERA! I’m tired of seeing her. Blond hair, red lips and ample cleavage does not qualify a person to be the next Marilyn Monroe. I don’t give a fuck how many vintage clothes this chick owns. Have we forgotten the ‘Dirty’ phase? With the pink and white hair, the teeny bopper stare and the obscene mid-drift baring (you could see her pubic bone for cripessake!) I was almost relieved when she and Britney faded into the background. Now, Britney has gone through a series of train-wreck adventures, for the sole purpose of publicity. (She don’t want them kids... you know and I know it. That was a bad idea.) And Christina lightened up on the wild-child persona (and increased the tanning bed visits), got hitched. Okay. People get married all the time. And Christina’s music blends together in my ear. I can’t deny her talent. She’s got pipes. But I think her original fans are all grown up now and I can’t stand her screaming. I guess someone must be buying her albums. My question is why was she dragged up and re-introduced to the famous 15 minute clock?

Give me one reason...

High School. It was like prison to me. And I admit my best friend at the time, Jo, made it a lot more bearable. She was tuned in to all the Mexican cut-parties and beer-laden gatherings. Sure, we were all underage but I wasn’t a drinker back then. It was rare if I took in 4 ounces of Corona with lime and salt. After all, could I really go home (supposedly) from school drunk? No. My mom would see through that like a sheer blouse. So I took it easy.

Jo was tall, slightly odd-looking and thin as a model back in school. When I first met her, I didn’t like her too much. Her full first name was hard for me to remember. So the third time we met she wrote her name in a margin of my notebook along with her phone number. I called her that night. It amazed me how we could talk about little to nothing and still be laughing on the phone. Her laugh was entertaining at least. I called her the next day. Eventually we started walking from school to the bus stop together. Our friendship grew like flames in a room stacked high with newspapers. Before too long anywhere you see her, you see me. We were Siamese twins with an invisible flesh and muscle link.

I consider myself to be a good friend. I was a loyal friend. I stood by her and did my best to take care of her. I encouraged her. Lifted her up, emtionally. I even doted on her a little. But at the first sign of a guy (for her) I was gone from her life. I was lucky to get a phone call. The newfound alienation did a lot for me, though. It allowed me to draw back and see clearly, for the first time maybe, that she and I weren’t really best friends. She had actually treated me rather shabbily. I made the decision to move on with my life.

And now, it seems she’s trying to reforge a friendship. I just wonder, why should I be bothered? I gave her every opportunity to be a good friend. I was fair and good. I tried. And now, she’s called me with a serious hint of sadness in her voice. She wants to talk to me; idle with boredom. By really, why should I be bothered? What wasn’t good 6 years ago is probably worse 6 years later.... right?

A short trip to a certain world...

I keep having ideas. I keep having dreams and compiling goals. And in the end? Where am I with everything? Not even on the first step, that's where. At this point, I'm hurtling towards 30. At 30, Sonny didn't know what he wanted to be when he grew up. This much is true. But that won't lull this annoying pain inside of me. I need to be something more and I don't know how. I feel lost and hopeless. Stranded.

When I decided to go natural and refrain from perming ever again, I was nervous. And confused. But I went to the library, borrowed numerous books on the elusive subject and I drank the knowledge between those pages. I dare say that I've read every book on natural hair care written and distributed in mass production. I've taken pieces from every one of them and today I know how to deal with my nest of naps. I love my hair and couldn't be happier with my decision to stop destroying it.

Now if only life were that easy to approach, dissect and enjoy....