Remember This: Learning to Love Yourself, Is the Greatest Love of All

Ok so my brother is the funniest man alive. And I was just reading his latest post when I followed a link to Celebrity Gossip. If you are a long time reader around here (bless your soul) you know that my weakest link is a desire to inhale Celebrity Gossip, let it buzz around in my brain for a few seconds, and then exhale during drab conversations.
But I kicked the habit recently--no really I did! I haven't even read about the demise of Reecyan Withersphillipe because I am better than that! (Besides, who didn't see that coming? It wasn't news, it was bound to happeness.) So anyway, Chup has an Einstein Bro.'s napkin on his desk and if I don't get some plain cream cheese on a cinnamon and sugar bagel RIGHT NOW I AM SO GOING TO TWITCH!



Yes well, as I was saying. I followed this link and saw this photo of my step-mother Whitney Houston:
I will always love you Whitney. It's good to see intelligence in your eyes again. Me likey the blonde. Me lovey the divorce.

When I was 8 I had an obsession with Whitney--carefully induced by my father who has a weak link for af-am soul singers. He'd buy her albums and anytime we went anywhere as a family Whitney's ballads would come along. I hope she liked all the trips to Laguna Beach.
One time my Dad blasted her music through the speakers on our boat (The Roasted Duck) while camping at Lake Powell. I got on the back of the boat and belted right along with her,
"I'm gonna run to youhoohooho/ So hold me in your arms and keep me safe and warm."
She meant it. I meant it. Invisible musical notes were bouncing off the red canyon walls. My eyes where tightly shut so that I could not just sing, but feel the music. Arms flailing. When the song ended, I looked up to see that a boat of senior citz had stopped to watch my performance. A few of them clapped, most of them laughed. And now I am adding that to my reasons why I don't really like senior citz, and if you are a long time reader of this blog (may thy soul be blessed forever), you know the other reasons that are perched upon that list.
(I think everybody deserves a little prejudice now and then. It's perfectly safe.)
So until she married Bobby Brown and went lunatic (which made my father run away into the sensual arms of Toni Braxton), Whitney and I remained tight. What was with that whole conspiracy she had about Blacks coming from Israel?
She lost me for good at that point. Her singing "I will always love you" crackled and crumbled in the love spots on my brain.
Or so I thought.
I think this is a real comeback she's staging. I can feel it. I haven't consulted with my father yet, but look for us to be the first to buy her newest album. And JT thought he was bringing sexy back. Step aside Mr. Timberlake and Whitney walk through.
I could go on, but I've got to hit Einsteins before the construction worker rush. They all come in and get their coffee. I've seen it before. Officially, I have no prejudices against construction workers mostly because they are hard working individuals that build stuff like Target stores and also because they are on an average good-looking. I have no prejudices against good-looking people. Ugly people? Yes. I am just being honest here.

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