Relative to the drunk driving, vehicular manslaughter, drug possesion, spa rehab, and questionable parenting somehow yoinking over-priced sweatshop products from stores for the hoity-toity seem well, boarding school. Somehow the oxycodone mind-freak angle is hard to buy. My work world has not made me a stranger to glazed rationalization. Despite the bitchy comments in the blogworld you shall always be to the common X-er a mere mortal who ascended from pubescent geekdom, androgyny and white bread mediocrity to become hipster poster child deity by apologetic good looks, intellectualism and sheer talent. Who cares if you have slept with 90% of the indie-rock cocks between you and Courtney Love. You have parlayed your cooch in more appropriate venues which is behind closed doors and underwear. You did it cause you like Wilco and you know what a Wilco is. To us you shall always be our beatnik bibliophile, our old- soul fashionista, our vulnerable gamine, the Heather we prefer to reign over us-- our Nonie. Welcome back. Stay sane. Don't blow it this time, hon.
This post is dedicated to my friend, Shivaun. When there's one set of footprints in the sand... you know why. Stay strong.
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