Prozac and White Wine and Pretty Pics and Internet Fans

that's what little girls are made of.

I realized today that needy blogs are beginning to bore me. You know the type, typically written by attractive girls with a bit of poet inside, tragic with a hint of The O.C. cool (which use to be Melrose Place cool, which use to be Beverly Hills 90210 cool...), even though they would never admit to watching that show (and maybe they really don't because they are too busy being out there) because it's not the right kind of cool, the kind you get by hanging out in the bars that are two steps beyond happening but always in tune with those that refuse to admit they are in the know which really means they DO read US magazine, even if it's only in waiting rooms and checkout lines. Sometimes the posts don't even make sense, but the readers fawn all over the comments pretending to get it, because to admit you don't get it would be like admitting you were the kid in grade school everyone beat up and teased, like admitting you had never been drunk and rambled on beautifully with mascara running down your face.

I read a couple of blogs like this, and I guess what made me decide they were a bore was the fact that today I realized they all sound like they were written by the same person. There is no personality behind the writing, only persona, and I think there is a big difference. Even the risque pictures are cold and bland and reveal little except a desire to tease and titillate an audience who would never admit it all means nothing. I read quite a few blogs and the ones I really enjoy reveal personality, a bit of a glimpse of someone else and that's what makes them interesting.

This post means nothing too. The difference is I know it. I'm also not afraid to show you who I am, and even if it doesn't matter to you, it matters to me, because I don't want to be one of those girls although honestly if I did it still wouldn't matter, I'm nowhere near as artificially "t.v. style" cool as I need to be and I don't hang around in the right bars and I don't look like a tragic artiste and yes my friends are all crazy and some are musicians and some are artists but some work in banks and other serious jobs and that right there means I can never be one of those special blog girls who everyone thinks has the answer to the world in their bottle of prozac or Zinfandel or whatever the hell it is the kids are taking these days to get out of bed in the morning.

So I think it means I will stop reading those girl's blogs because they make me feel bad about myself the way magazines make other girls want to throw up every meal in the toilet.

Just kidding. But the reality is I'd be too lazy to keep up the facade. And I get drunk too, but I don't pretend it means I'm brilliant or present drinking as some sort of romantic, mysterious and oh so clever and "aren't I just like the famous writers of yore" accomplishment because even if it helps the brilliance come out it also ends up suffocating it and then people don't care what you have to say, they shake their heads and cluck their tongues after you walk away and wonder what happened to you, talk about the stupid things you did and not in a good way, wonder why you stopped letting life be fun and if the reason why is because you have problems well hell, we all do, so DO something about it or shut the fuck up because it's not cool anymore, we covered that in the 90's and it's not even time for a revival yet, it's just depressing and who needs extra depression these days?

This sounds bitchy. But I really think when you try too hard to be hip and cool and crazy you just end up sounding like an mtv special about crazy celebrities and not even the good ones.