"Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.

Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen."

love, love this song.

this picture goes out to those of you who feel the pressures of being something you may not be right now.

or ever.

thinner.muscley.taller.a smaller nose.straighter teeth.bigger body parts.a more confident disposition.self-satisfied.

whatever it may be.

there's a reason we are drawn to one another...and while looks may mean something to someone, they will never mean everything to someone.

anyone who has dated a hottie with no sense of humor is fully aware of what i'm saying.

find happiness and sexiness in the way you are, and do what feels right to you.

and remember:

"do not read beauty magazines they will only make you feel ugly."

the same goes for our modern world. do not look at it as your truth.

it's no secret that i absolutely love ke$ha. i guess if you didn't know that then you don't know me.

OK, just kidding, i'm not that simple.

at any rate, there's this remix of Ke$ha's song "Blow" that i'm absolutely intrigued by.

there's this sound that i've been hearing a lot lately that i think is so, so cool.

to me, it sounds like someone is revving a weedwhacker.

and i love it.

i want more of it.

i'm not some gross, techno-loving club freak by any means, but that sound about to BLOW.



**Update:

Here's another one...although this sounds like a mini-weedwhacker reallllly going to town on some alfalfa.

amy winehouse, amy winehouse.

(what to say about amy winehouse without offending her "fans." hmm...)

tough one.

amy winehouse was a celebrated artist. many people adored her. i personally wasn't much of a fan. for me, it was always hard to watch. hard to listen to.

with the news of her passing on every headline and at the fingertips of all social medialites, i've read numerous comments from people mourning her death. everyone's so sad. so upset. supposedly playing her songs on repeat all day in her honor. how sweet.

except...

to me, personally, it's disturbing. not the fact that amy died, but it's disturbing that, all of a sudden, we now care that she was an addict. no one cared before.
it's an ironic yet appalling twist on how we view sloppy drunks and crack addicts in the entertainment industry.

for non-spotlighted addicts - we look down upon them. they have a problem and it's not OK.

for spotlighted addicts - we give them a round of applause and want front row seats to their spectacle.

it's cool, it's funny, it's art...

until they die. then it's a shame.

back when amy was "big," (and i use that term in a dual sense considering how small and seemingly malnourished she often appeared) people flocked to her shows in astonishment of the fact that a drunk, coked out singer could put on such an entertaining show. what with the hair, the make-up, the back-up band and singers...her good voice. but also in that entertainment package came her drunkenness, her self-admitted drug use before performances, her wobbly knees and lack of balance. to me, it was a cross breed of a dog and pony show mixed with a shit show.

to most people it was "wow, it's so cool that someone can be so deplete of professionalism and integrity but their vocal chords can hit a few notes within an undeniably catchy melody."

well let's gobble up her albums and put her on TV!

sure, it was fun. we ate it up. but it was all at her expense.

we love to make fun of people with serious, serious addictions. *when they're alive.* but when their addictions catch up to them. when their addictions take full control. when their addictions seize their very last breath. when their addictions have taken their life. then, and only then, do we stop laughing.

then we're sad.

??

how sick.

now, and only now, it's no longer funny that amy winehouse had a serious lineup of addictions...addictions that she made no secret to her fans or to the general public. addictions that she displayed in daylight. on tv. in the magazines. everywhere.

it wasn't in some dimly-lit bathroom with a few of her closest friends.

it was on stage. in front of you. cameras rolling.

knowingly or not knowingly to herself, she was a user.

a serious user.

and what did we do in response? as "fans" we watched her fall time and time again, in many ways. at appearances, award shows, concerts - we would first wait in anticipation to see if she would show up. if she did, we waited to see if she could remember the lyrics to her songs. we loved her non-composure. we applauded a shot on stage. we gave her a standing O for merely finishing. later we went to tmz and perezhilton to see pictures of her leaving and falling down in the streets.

boy was that fun. i'm going to be her for halloween! dress me up like a drunk cokehead with a beehive and smudged mascara!

oh, but now she died. she died from the very things that made her so popular. the very things that made her "unique." the very things that are not OK on any other platform except rock n' roll. it makes the music better if you're crazy and addicted to something dangerous.

??

emotions aside and in reality - she died from the very lifestyle we both championed and funded. and, as her fan, you have the gall to mourn?

you didn't know her. you didn't love her. you didn't help her.

don't mourn.

be ashamed.

in reality i've only been absent this blog for approximately two months.

not bad if i say so myself.

which i do.

bringing this blog back to its glory days.

stay tuned for a new look.

and a new blog.

...well it's still the old blog...just with newer-ish opinions.