Britney

Okay, I’m straight up ashamed that I haven’t posted. I meant to. I don’t know what my deal is.

Frankly, I’m completely obsessed with the Britney boards. Maybe I should duplicate my posts there here, because those other schmos over at FT are getting to talk to me more than you guys are, and I know there’s something sick about that.

Whole groups of bored twenty- to forty-somethings gathering on a message board to rip on some bloated, pimply, fading pop star? Why? I guess it’s kind of like getting to rip on the prom queen, while watching her fall fall fall. You know, we go to our 10 year reunions so we can feel smug in the car on the way home: “Ha! I’m still thin!” “Ha! She’s still a grocery checker!” “Ha! That husband of hers is a dog!”

Don’t you wish you could have watched so-n-so’s fall from perfection? That’s what I’m doing with Britney.

In actuality, I didn’t leave my 10 year reunion feeling particularly smug. There’s an entry around here somewhere chronicling how I really felt. I think the feeling was something along the lines of “icky” and “sad” and “surprised”.

Anyway, class is going fine. Life is fine. Miss you.