The roots of my Celebrity Gossip Addiction

I love to read celebrity gossip.  Lately, I really enjoy commenting on a certain site called “Celebitchy.”  Instead of just a “news” site, the bloggers editorialize about the news, and I tend to agree with their points of view.  The comments are easy to access from my Blackberry, so I feel like I can participate in that conversation.  Who cares?  Certainly not Odie.

Back “in the day,” which is a time period people often refer to, I used to smoke cigarettes.  On Fridays, I would look forward to coming home from work, getting my US Weekly in the mail, and sitting on my deck reading and smoking.  Odie used to tell me I was “part of the problem” by being a consumer of these gossip rags.  I would concede his point if I thought it were a problem.  The real problem was the cigarettes, so I quit those, but I remain a celeb gossip addict.

I have my standards. I hate TMZ, the show and the website, because they follow celebrities around with cameras and ask them the stupidest questions.  It must make photographic journalists shake and cringe to see what their field has become.  “Hey, Megan Fox!  Do you, uh, like foxes?  Have you ever, like, uh, seen a fox?  Like in the zoo or something?” That is not an actual TMZ interview, but it SO COULD BE.

Lately, I’ve been drawn to comment on www.celebitchy.com because there have been numerous postings about parenting.  I know! Who would’ve thunk it?  Apparently, Khloe Kardashian of all people is into attachment parenting.  I couldn’t let those stories go by without commenting.  It’s amazing how ignorant a lot of people are about breastfeeding and parenting in general.  The only reason I mention ANY of this is because apparently my comments have drawn a couple of readers to my blog!  I hope those readers enjoy what they find here and stick around!

Since I was young, I have been interested in certain celebrities.  The people change as I do, but my interest continues to be piqued by the rich and famous.  That hardly makes me unique, of course.  In my early teens, I went through a severe exercise obsession phase.  My mom has three daughters, and of the three, my body type most resembles hers.  Although I am a good 4 inches taller.  We’re pears.  Before my surgery, I tended to gain a lot of weight in my hips and thighs (surgery??? What??? Yes, I’ll tell you all about it in another blog).  When I was hitting puberty, I think I set off all kinds of alarm bells in Mom’s head about what my body was going to look like and triggered her self loathing.  As such, she took me to every diet program  (Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, Lindora) and every fitness spot (Jazzercise, the gym, the YMCA) and bought me diet products and fitness tapes and equipment.  All of this was at my request of course, but the seeds were planted early by her and my dad’s mother that I was unacceptable and I needed to slim down.

I chose celebrity role models and kept a photo album of clippings of them.  Back in 1986ish, Bazaar Magazine came out with a “10 Most Beautiful Women” issue and I decided to make my own.  I chose Daryl Hannah, Lisa Bonet, Robin Wright, Marcy Walker, Paulina Porizkova, Justine Bateman, Madonna, Linda Hamilton, and 2 others I can’t remember.  I cut out every picture I could find and rotated the photos I taped to my Lifecycle, which I got up at 4 a.m. to ride every day before school.  Something my parents knew I was doing, but never said a word to me about.  Back in those days, the only thing you read about celebrities was what they chose to reveal in interviews.  There were no “paparazzi,” so the photos were harder to find.  If this were me today, and I chose Lindsay Lohan, for example, I could have a new picture of her every day if I wanted.  I ended up coveting those photographs.  I saved the photo albums full of pictures for YEARS because this was before the Internet (thanks, Al Gore!) and once I cut those pictures out of the magazines, they were valuable to me since they were irreplaceable.  I think I even took them with me to college.

Everything changed with Julia Roberts.  I wasn’t the only one obsessed with her.  EVERYONE WAS.  Even the “legitimate” news stations started following her romantic ups and downs.  I’ll never forget seeing her surprise secret marriage to Lyle Lovett as the lead story on the nightly news.  And I couldn’t WAIT to get my hands on the pictures!!!

The evolution of celebrity gossip has brought me to this place where I actually participate in it via my comments on the blog sites.  It brings me pleasure and satisfaction in a way Odie doesn’t understand.  Maybe I feel a part of it.  Part of the writing world of it, not part of the celebrity, of course.  As a teenager, I wrote imaginary Star Magazine articles about myself because I desired to be famous (who doesn’t?).  Now, I wouldn’t want to be famous.  I’ve seen what the blogosphere does to famous people and there is wayyyyy-hayy-hay too much karma out there waiting for me.

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About Mrs Odie

Like you, only funnier.
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