Sorry, Whitney, I Have No Tears Left

Whitney Houston Central Park, NYC September 1, 2009 (Photo credit: asterix611)

Sure, I gasped when I read the headlines last night that Whitney Houston, an incredibly talented singer had died. I gasped in shock for the unexpected news but after that, I didn’t cry. I couldn’t, I had nothing to cry about. So, instead of being sad, I felt incredibly MAD. Mad like, is anyone going to LEARN something about drugs and alcohol (allegedly) and using and abusing? How many more people have to die before someone gets it and says “You know, might not be such a smart idea to party all the time.” WHAT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?

We have lost, NO, we have not lost them, they lost themselves to drugs and alcohol (yeah, yeah, allegedly). Do I really need to name them? Fine, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse. Go back in time: Janis Joplin, Jimmy Hendrix, and I am just listing a few examples from hundreds.  Such amazing talent from so many people gone, because they wasted their lives partying. I know addiction is an illness and it’s hard to beat but there are places to go to and programs to attend if you really, really want to stop and change.

Where was her family? Dionne Warwick, wasn’t she her aunt? Did Whitney have a mom named Cissy? I could be wrong. Cousins? Best friends? Old, clean, boyfriends and girlfriends? WHERE THE HELL WERE ALL OF YOU? I know it’s not your fault, it’s Whitney’s. Whitney, you had so many YEARS to try and get sober and clean. Did you once think of your daughter. My G-d, how selfish is that? Does the word “intervention” sound familiar to any of you?

I’m just frustrated with this culture you “stars” live in and I know it is not limited to celebrities. Are we glorifying these singers/actors/stars with our moments of silence and our adoration? Well, now we must buy ” The Best Of…….”They killed themselves, willingly or not, for a long time using drugs and alcohols and pills and whatever else was printed on their personal menus. Enough is enough. They are not heroes to me. They are poor, lost souls who had everything and lost it for fame.

On a more personal note: Lindsey Lohan: I’m still watching YOU.

Arnold Palmer, Skinny Cows, Books, Music and Me

I never thought I had an addictive personality but now I am not so sure.  I’m not addicted to drugs or alcohol, in fact I don’t drink or do drugs at all. I hate the taste of alcohol (with the exception of a really good Mojito but I can only drink half of one). However, I realized I am addicted to certain things and all new products. I am a public relations’ pleasure, I am the ultimate consumer and if I find something new that I like, like turns to love and love to obsession immediately.

I am now in love with Arnold Palmer’s lite Iced Tea and Lemonade drink.  My son, 17, turned me on to it and I drink it constantly. Usually I go for months adoring the product then I get so sick of it that I stop completely. I refuse to believe it will happen to my new love beverage but I tend to say that about everything I have been in love with. What happens is that I cycle through an addiction, find a new one and circle back. It’s a harmless beverage addiction and it makes me happy, besides we’re supposed to drink more water!  Do I go through withdrawal symptoms when I don’t have some? No, as long as there is some in the house. If not, I get anxious, seriously anxious. Perhaps I should consider rehab or an intervention?

I also am addicted to books and unfortunately not the books in the library although I go there quite often. I once bought a Kindle (gee, thanks Oprah) because of the number of books I read but that didn’t last long. I missed holding the book in my hand, I missed the texture and the feel of the paper, the fact that I could not write my name in bold, script letters on the first page to claim it as my own. I devour every word, sometimes highlighting, turning the pages deliciously and slowly, one by one.

I am the same way with music, my computer practically plays “Recently Played” songs almost automatically. I will listen to these 25 songs over and over again for a really long time. It’s something about the comfort of the repetition and the familiarity of those favorites that make me happy. Sometimes I will get sick of them, (although it’s been a long haul for the latest batch and I’m still listening to them) and I will move on to the next….eventually.   For now “I Dreamed A Dream” sung by the Glee cast has been played at least fifty times, okay everything from the Glee cast has been played at least 50 times, followed by the Plain White T’s song “1,2,3,4.” and Crystal Bowersox and Lee Dewyze’s duet “Falling Slowly” from American Idol. When all else fails I still turn to John Denver for comfort and nostalgic memories of my youth. His song  “This Old Guitar” actually  soothes me, and so much more natural than a Valium.

The third and final fave for this month are Skinny Cows Vanilla with Caramel swirl ice cream cones. Oh, the sticky sweetness of the caramel swirl and the soothing vanilla ice cream (ice milk?) too. You get the crunch of a “real” ice cream cone with fewer calories. The best to come is that silky smoothness of chocolate that comes at the very end of the cone and it’s unbelievably dreamy. Simple pleasures for hard times.

When things are going badly, like for the past eleven months or so (unemployment, health) I have to force myself, like now, to focus on the good, the tried and true, the familiar instead of being overwhelmed with self-pity, (I admit I held a pity party today). Today there was a lot of “Everybody Hurts” sung by The Corrs’. I will be over myself by tomorrow, I promise.   I need to take deep breaths and walk in the sun, with my dog at my side, instead of sitting inside with my trustworthy laptop, playing music I’ve heard a hundred times already.

*I am not a spokesperson for the aforementioned products, I wish.