Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Not Yet a Woman

I love celebrity hijinks as much as any other red-blooded American woman. I love to hear who a star is fucking, who she'd like to fuck, what makeup she wears, what shows she sees at Fashion Week, who she hates, who she got to design her house. As Cosmo has taught me, sharing celebrity gossip with other women helps forge friendships and doesn't have the risk involved in it that gossiping about your own lowly friends does. My coworkers and I love juicy gossip about who has the herp in Hollywood. I'm up on my politics, so I don't beat myself up for an occasional read of Us Weekly or People when it's available.

Lately, celebrity news has gone from the fun schadenfreude place to the negative, scary, okay-this-is-actual-human-suffering place. Watching Lindsay Lohan unravel isn't fun when you see how Anna Nicole Smith's passing is being treated, and watching Britney Spears have a nervous breakdown that is making some paparazzi very, very rich is gross. I don't like these stories about her. I can't imagine what kind of mental state she must be in to listen to her family, check into rehab, then check back out a day later. My own theory is that Britney has never had any downtime, ever, since she was about six years old. She's been so successful and in the business for so long that not touring, not making music, not working long days has her restless. And when you've got a pile of money and a hoard of people who are more than willing to help you spend it in perhaps not the best possible way, what else can you do? She's got no direction. She wants to have a plan, but she's never done her own thing. Someone has always told this girl what to do, when to do it, how it'll profit her. Now that she's an adult and expected to make those choices herself, she can't deal with it. So she goes out without panties, leaves her kids at home with someone (I hope), and acts a fool because it passes the time and makes her feel good.

And while I know Britney doesn't really read the internet too much (she does have her own website she updates from time to time), I'd like to say this to her, if she's listening. Get your cracker ass into rehab now. And stay there. Seriously. It was funny at first, but now you're a danger to yourself and your kids. When you have kids, you lose the right to be a self-indulgent child. Parents everywhere feel overwhelmed and scared, but they sack up because their kids need them. Something is very, very wrong when Kevin Federline is the best birth parent these kids could have. Don't think that your kids can't be taken away from you because you're famous. It'll take a while longer, but eventually you're going to do something to endanger them so much the state will fuck with you. Just stop now. Sort yourself out. Grow some peach fuzz. Start working again. Think. For the love of God, use your remaining brain cells and just think about what you're doing to yourself and your family.

I like Britney Spears. When you're on the treadmill and need a little push to continue running nothing helps like a dose of "Stronger" or my favorite, "Crazy" from the movie with Clarissa. I like that Britney's unapologetically white trash with money. I love the fantasy I have in my mind of her reuniting with Justin Timberlake for good and producing both hits and hit-making babies. But if she doesn't shape up, I won't have these things to enjoy.

No comments: