Jealous much?

Well, now it looks like dooce (I'm sure you know her, the blogger, isn't she like on the A-list in Hollywood at this point?) has my would-be-my-bff- in-another-life-where-i-was-rich-and-famous-since-we-both-robbed-the-cradle-five-years-dig-rock-stars-and-have-same-sex-same-age-kids-and-a-deceivingly-innocent-outward-appearance, Ms. Gwyneth Paltrow, as one of her thousands of devoted fans now. I get G's newsletter, Goop.com, and although I rarely open it, i did tonight and was behooved to find the dooce mentioned. So fuck me! I'm so sick of other people stealing things that were supposed to be parts of my life. where do they get off? Being Gwyneth's BFF, that's one, or being that 32-something overweight mom - whats-her-name? who conceived of the friggin teenage vampires in her sleep and wrote 4 books and had four movies made on them, in record-breaking time, thanks to her "dream" of vampires. Really? Never even wrote a short story. really. ?  Of course, I also should've been a rock star, namely someone like Gwen Stefani, and I'm pretty certain I would be had I been reared in So-Cal instead of the South. Even that chick who crashed the White House party and now has a reality show, I wouldn't mind getting a gig like that-  just by crashing a party. Some people are just too lucky.
Apparently dooce wrote a Best Seller on herself and post-partum depression, so now she's a best-seller too. I don't really read blogs lately but did just read her birthday letter to herself on her blog and must admit I am amused by her writing in that post. Makes me wanna write myself a nice little love letter too. But, dooce, I had post-partum depression, too. Capitalizing on my boring life of anxiety, exhaustion, feeding, diapers, a run to the coffee shop as my only outing and back home for naptime never really occurred to me. Who knew? People read the darndest things. And me, I've become a little snarky so there's little hope for me as a bloggess. Cie la vie.
~R