Wednesday, December 23, 2009

One more old, lonely girl

A recent conversation with a group of friends about how we will never be as cool as Miley started turning the gears in my brain. I am aging. I may not be over the hill, but geez, I’m appraoching the top awfully fast. Celebrities are now younger than I am. For so many years everyone who was famous and enviable was older than me. Even the Olson twins in the height of their pre-teen fame (Trenchcoat Mysteries: We’ll solve any crime by dinner time… anyone?) at least had a couple years on me. Now, this is not the case and is causing me boatloads of cognitive dissonance.

First of all, I have no idea when it is appropriate to think these youngsters are cool, cute, or attractive. For the first half of the ‘Can’t tie me down’ video I sat there sizing up both of the Boyz, and was pleased with what I saw. Then the line ‘Like I mean, I'm only seventeen and uhhm ahh the perfect couple is only in a dream’ had to jump out and make me feel awkward and dirty. Until recently, this had never been a problem. And no, I do not accept ‘Cougar’ (or ‘Puma’ as with the latest trend) as a legitimate title for this phase of my life.

The final straw happened to me a while ago (read: today in my kitchen) when I spent an hour watching videos of Justin Beiber before he got famous. So I watched videos of J. Beibs pre-puberty (still), pre-record deal, singing and dancing to someone with a handi-cam. This all started because as a budding choreographer (only in the most loose sense of the word) I wanted to see videos of good dancers. My sister suggested Justin, and one hour and twenty video clips later there I was. Justin does have moves and therefore I consider all of this just R and D for my upcoming dance projects. Yet somehow, I couldn’t shake the thought that if someone walked in and saw what I was doing I would most likely stutter, blush, and quickly close the browser.

The other reason being older than celebrities sucks was so well articulated by my friend Cleopatra (name changed to protect identity,) who stated sadly “It means we probably aren’t going to be famous!” Shit, right? This hit me hard too. Up until now this whole college thing was just a ruse, some fa├žade of a normal life to keep me busy until I found my places among the stars. But now people like Justin, Miley, and a few of the Brothers Jonas make me realize that I am probably not on the verge of being ‘discovered’. I’m no spring chicken, I’m past my prime, less appealing that yesterday’s socks and last year’s Halloween candy.

Child stars should be put in their place. Send them rascal hoot-a-ninnys back to where they belong, in movies like Dennis the Menace, Home Alone, and E.T. Tweens need to stop taking up vital space on the airwaves and page six. And if they could stop being so good-looking and hip that would help me feel less washed-up. But my wishes aren’t going to be realized. Tweens all over the continent (J. Beibs is a kanuck) will continue to put videos on youtube and get signed by Usher. So I may as well accept this depressing trend. Crap.

Well, there’s still a couple of hours before the evening news is on and it’s time to take my metamucil, so I’m going to read Dakota Fanning’s relationship tips in Glamour and ask my 12 year old neighbor what the kids are listening to these days.

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