Calm, Cool and Committed

Three Moms and a Dude

Living Vicariously

on July 25, 2012

Lately, a whole slew of Facebook friends have been posting celeb gossip-bashing statuses like “Does anyone with a pulse care whom Kim Kardashian’s divorce lawyer is?” and “I don’t need to know who Britney Spears is dating, I have a life!”

It seems like the current trend is to bash those people who gobble up every bit of celebrity gossip they can find.

Like me.

I admit it.  I love celebrity gossip.  When my husband came home today and told me that Kristen Stewart cheated on Rob Pattinson, I immediately fired up the good ol’ Google search to find out the dirt.  Oodles of my own Facebook status possibilities flashed through my mind, like “If Kristen Stewart is going to cheat with a married Snow White and the Huntsman coworker, why wouldn’t she have picked Hemsworth?!”

I didn’t post anything, though, because I didn’t want those haters to post snarky, “Don’t you have a life?” comments on my page.  Instead, I hungrily combed though all the statuses popping up on my newsfeed.  Nothing.  None of my friends had posted about Kristen’s cheating or Rob’s lack of response.  How was I to speculate if Rob was heartbroken?  Who was I to make my “Hemsworth is much hotter” comment to?

I pulled up a friend-who-loves-to-snark’s page.  I could post to her.  Surely she would want to join in on my rampage about why the director would go after someone half his age.  But no.  She had recently posted that she didn’t know who Tiki Barber was.  She probably wouldn’t appreciate the Robsten drama.

I had another idea.  What about my two bestest long-distance girlfriends?  I could email them and start a chain going about how Stewart thought she could smooch in public and not get caught.  I pulled up my email.  And then I realized that I didn’t get an email from either of them about it yet.  And they both have jobs that require them to work in the summer.  And then I closed my email.

And then I got a little sad.  I had about fifteen tabs open in my browser.  E! Online, TMZ, Us Weekly… and no one to share the news with.  My husband already had given me all the gossip he heard, and I had told him the Hemsworth line.  I closed the internet pages and wished I had a celeb gossip outlet.

My life’s pretty normal.  I have a husband whom I’ve never cheated on.  I drive a used Saturn.  When I buy designer heels at TJMaxx, a passerby will say, “Wow, I didn’t think anyone around here appreciated shoes that crazy.”  Sometimes my mom calls me by my sister’s name – or the dog’s (I’m not kidding, FYI).

I enjoy my life and am happy.  But sometimes, when I’m drifting off to sleep, I pretend I’m a movie star.  I’m the one in the headlines, causing scandals by telling a rogue paparazzo to get out of my face.  I’m the one sporting bodyguards and a $1,000 pedicure.

Until my husband and I sell a big screenplay and move to Hollywood, my life doesn’t have a snowball’s shot of being like that.  So I live vicariously through celebrities.  I speculate about whether or not Tom and Katie had a marriage contract.  I click every link that says “See the Stars Without Their Makeup.”  I gossip about people I don’t know and will never meet.

And you know what?  There’s nothing wrong with that.

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