6 12 2012

Thank you for those statements, helps put things into prospective about what is a good heart throb and not.

the ramblings

A mother is scooping sweaters, glittery headbands, musical toothbrushes, and furry socks off the shelf. I notice a mountain at cart’s bottom, already heaped high with Justin Bieber merchandise. His big horse smile is beaming from a tin lunchbox, a metallic folder, all things. I laugh because what kind of world do we live in where a scrawny 12-year-old boy wearing girl jeans and earrings is the epitome of male hotness? I try to picture her daughter but instead see myself, all pre-boobied and spraying glitter and hearts across my FUTURE MRS. JTT poster.

Of course, the idea of a heart throb seems ridiculous to me now.  The very thought of throbbing seems fit for migraines or some vaginal birth or maybe that bad hip I’ve been icing. Who wants to throb? But I was there once, crying and aching and pining for a band of dancing, singing, hair-gelled beauties. I wished hard and often for those bubble gum pop princes and in…

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