It seems that everybody wants to be mad at the world lately. I have this love/hate relationship with social media. I canned Facebook for some time and I have to confess, I enjoyed the lack of drama. A dear dear dear darling friend of mine (if one of us had to die for the greater good-I’d take the bullet – he’s funnier than I am) actually formed a petition to get me back. It was sweet and I was surprised that some people even noticed I was missing. I’ve been back on for two-ish weeks. Oh drammmmmaaaaaa.
Let me explain. I arrived shortly after the release of Lemonade. Let me be clear. I was never a Beyoncé fan before. Well I am now. She has surpassed Alannis Morissette in the ultimate female rage song. All I have to say is Michelle Bachman/Sarah Palin/Carly Fioriwhateverthehellyournameis/Big Hil don’t speak for me. Beyoncé does. I bore witness to the idiocy of people making threats to whom ever they deemed to be Becky with the Good Hair. Not you? Moving on.
What I did arrive JUST in the nick of time for was a dead gorilla. Hold up. Before I start getting death threats….I love animals. I’ve rescued three. So don’t come at me bro. However, the life of that little boy means a helluva lot more to me. I won’t judge the mother because I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it. I’m not an expert of gorillas and I think the “guidelines” for zoo enclosures probably needs immediate tweaking. And by tweaking- fix this shit.
I also arrived for the Taylor Ham/Pork Roll war. It’s Taylor Ham. I grew up in Morris County. And no one I don’t give one tiny little rats ass what anyone else has to offer on this score.
Lastly, there was a post from Food and Wine asking if celebrity endorsements were the root of American obesity. Because Sophia Vergara force fed us those twenty Yodels huh? Yeahhhh.
I’ve taken up meditation. I suck at it. But I’m trying. I’m a bit of a type A personality (stands for as…..never mind) so sitting serenely for more than 10 seconds requires Herculean effort.
Here’s my humble suggestion for negativity-letting. Justin Timberlake, specifically Can’t Stop the Feeling. This is pure joy. Pure. Joy. And I’m not saying I’d bust up his marriage but I just want to touch his tushie once. And if my husband is reading this? Sorry honey, I LOVE YOU SOOOOO MUCH. You can feel any boobies you want if I get to touch Justin’s butt. Deal? Great. We’re having chicken for dinner. So here’s the tip. Bring your phone with you into any room in which there is a mirror and you can be alone. I recommend the bathroom for the acoustics. Lock the door. Pull up the video on YouTube and start dancing. The only one in the room is you so let that freak flag fly. You want to twerk? Do it. No one is watching. You can feel that freedom building as your body moves. There will come a point that your head flips back as your arms raise in the air and in that one moment you are free.
That is the moment I would like you to look in the mirror and see the beauty.
See that? Feel that? It doesn’t matter if anybody else told you. You are free and beautiful and that soul drain that we are constantly exposed to every time we turn on the TV or log into Facebook or just hear the collective asshats screaming that their opinion ( because it’s louder) has more weight than yours.
Nothing I can see but you when you dance dance dance
Smile. You are beautiful. That mirror tells you everything you already knew and let no one take that from you.
Ride that wave, Dear Beauties, ride it.