An Open Love Letter to Jordan Catalano

Jordan AKA Jared Leto in his former glory-

Like a pathetic fool, I spent most of my weekend catching up on episodes of 'My So-Called Life.' In the 90s, I can remember you being on and not really getting what was happening due to the fact that I was completely obsessed with other forms of pop-culture that people were trying to ram down my throat.

Clearly, if I would have known you existed, I wouldn't have wasted time on fools like Justin Timberlake (pre-banging Britney) and Nick Carter (pre-porno Paris). You're such a beloved asshole, it's no wonder Angela wanted in your pants so badly.

I may not have seen all the trials and tribulations you've put that girl through, but I've seen enough and I even know what's coming. But let's face it, how could she NOT fall for you?

I mean, your first words to her were, "It doesn't feel like a Friday." Smooth. And romantic. And that second episode kiss in your car with a girl you barely even know? Sounds like my own life, plastered on the small screen.

Despite all of this, you showed us you were flawed anyway. Can't read? No one ever taught you? My heart honestly went out to you. No wonder you acted the way you did. Product of nature.

It's because of this that we can forgive your other flaws. Pressuring Angela into having sex at a house the teens find it cool to trespass into and then getting upset when she goes to help her drugged up friend. Not going to meet her parents even when it took her days to get up the courage. Writing a song about your car when clearly she's going to think it's about her. Banging one of her best friends in the back seat of your car and having it filmed. Letting her neighbor who is also in love with her write your infamous apology love letter that wins her back.

Let's face it. Brian Krakow never stood a chance.

I understand why she watched him as the two of you pulled away. Thoughts of what could be. The safe choice. But fuck the safe choice. When was that ever any fun?

And even though you probably would have ended up living in Three Rivers the rest of your life (for real?? You named your band the Frozen Embryos?), I would have chosen you too. Put up with living in a dead end town in a dead end job.

But you're lucky, Jordan Catalano. You never had to live these particular tribulations as you only lasted a mere episode short of twenty. You're forever entombed in that world and thus perfect...a perfect asshole anyway.

And what girl doesn't love that?

If only you knew that one day you'd wake up as Jared Leto...35 (looking 25) and caking on the eyeliner. Who would have guessed?

Love--
J

An Open Letter to Pennsylvania Department of Transportation and Pittsburgh Drivers

To the Aforementioned:

This morning -- January 22, 2008 -- I left my apartment at approximately 10:20 AM to make it to a class an hour later. What normally takes me a mere 8 minute drive to school took me well triple that. It is because of the below reasons. I wish you would read them and hopefully take note of this.

Approximately 10:35, my shuttle pulled out. It was snowing today, but nothing heavy or whiteout, I assure you. If anything, it was a light flurry. I should know the snow, because I grew up in Northwestern Pennsylvania. Ever heard of Lake Effect Snow? Well let me tell you. Lake Effect Snow's idea of a 'flurry' IS a whiteout. Judging from the looks of things on 5th Avenue (which took us 20 minutes to get through, by the way), you would have thought that we had thirteen thousand feet of snow and had become the fucking Arctic. Drivers were going about three miles an hour...and then we encountered another shuttle on the exit that seemed to go about one mile an hour.

My point to Pittsburgh drivers is this:

LEARN HOW TO DRIVE.

You would think that the Ice Age was upon us or that modern day cars moved at the pace of a snail. THEY DON'T. For all the 'defensive' driving you assholes do, you think you'd be speeding along in a flurry. You have four wheel drive. If you think it's that bad out, USE IT. If the snow terrifies you that much, then here's an idea...STAY OFF THE ROADS. Don't drive your car and waste your expensive gasoline. Take public transportation. Granted, that would require a bit of walking and a possible wait, but for God's sake, it'd spare the rest of us a little sanity.

As for you good old PENNDOT. I know that you seem to think that the good old Department of Transportation needs to fix the Boulevard of the Allies...but did you have to start construction in the middle of fucking JANUARY?! You know that people in Pittsburgh can't drive for shit in snow, so what do you do? Shut down one of the most used roads as if to spite those of us who grew up in places where people can drive. It's like you know it pisses us off and you're sadists that get off on this aggravation.

By the time that I finally did arrive at school, it was 11:10 and my class was about to start. By that point, however, the last thing I felt like learning about was American Literature. If anything, I wanted to go to the nearest bar and work on Getting Trashed 101...at 11:10 AM.

Use your heads. Pittsburgh Drivers + The LIGHTEST spattering of snow + Construction = A FUCKING NIGHTMARE.

This construction possibly COULDN'T wait till the spring when the greatest precipitation is rain and Pittsburgh drivers speed through it like it's just a fine mist on their windshields?

Learn how to drive and learn how people in this city drive.

Maybe then you'll see a difference.

--"Pissed off in Pittsburgh"

Apparently I have a talented cervix.

A few years ago, I signed this online petition for Planned Parenthood...and of course, I was put on one of those e-mail lists that is nearly impossible to get off of. Today, I noticed they'd sent me yet another ploy to get me to go to one of their rallies or give them monies that I don't have...until the subject line caught my attention.

SUBJECT: I [heart] my cervix!

Dear Julie,

This is your cervix writing.

I know, you might've forgotten I existed until you got this e-mail just now (what with vagina and clitoris always hogging all the attention). I bet you wouldn't even recognize me if you saw me — me, your very own cervix!

The e-mail goes on to talk about Pap screens and HPV vaccines. It finishes with...

Love,
Your cervix

P.S. Don't have a cervix? Forward this e-mail to the people you love who do have cervixes!

I don't know about you, but I am super impressed by how talented my cervix is. I mean, I knew that it must have a hobby or two...but writing massive e-mails? Super awesome! Most girls have cervix's that just sit there...mine will spam the hell out of you.

I have officially decided that my e-mailing cervix is more impressive than my partially intact hymen (which made its status well known to my gynecologist who thought it was absolutely adorable) that wears a bow and tap dances.

My cervix deserves its own Time Magazine article like the ones they talk about in Fight Club.

I am Jack's kidney. I aid in Jack's excretory process.

I am Anna's heart. I pump blood throughout the body.

I am Kyle's brain tumor. I eat my way through some of the most important tissue in his body and grow like a young child.

Well, watch out guys.

I am Julie's cervix. I get bored and instead of watching reruns of "Nip/Tuck," I sent out massive spam e-mails.

Bitchin'.

Admit it. You're jealous.

The Recent Demise of Ms. Spears

At the start of last semester when I felt like my mind was completely disappearing, I decided to visit the school counselor. What was my problem? It seemed that I was too incredibly stressed out about school and life...and her suggestion?

Dedicate at least a half an hour to something I love every day.

Some people sing. Some people dance. Some people shoot guns and others make homemade bombs.

I stalk celebrities online.

My counselor said I needed something to alleviate my stress.

Which is how my online entertainment reading became an obsession.

I sit and read the blogs. I read all the entertainment Web sites. I read all of this as it is updated. I live and breathe and thrive on it.

And the target in the center of my Internet celebrity obsessions?

Ms. Britney Spears.

Love her. Hate her. I really don't care. You can knock her down. You can say she's a horrible mother. You can say she's crazy. Say what you want to say.

But Britney Spears has become America's new underdog. Half the people want to see her lose. Half the people want to see this amazing comeback.

I can remember in November of 2006 when news hit that she'd finally filed for divorce. Two kids since her last album release and once married and on the road to divorce. For Britney fans, Kevin was the ultimate anti-thesis. Here was this bum, feeding off her fame and money.

That day in November, I can remember thinking that her official comeback had started.

And for awhile it had.

I packed my bags and head overseas and what greets me in February? The start of her downward spiral.

You can say what you want about her shaving her head and beating cars with umbrellas. Say what you want about the multiple trips to rehab and the loss of custody. Say what you want about that flawed VMA performance. Her first CD in years -- "Blackout" -- was the diamond in the rough of a terrible year for the poor girl.

But notice that you're saying these things. You're paying attention to her.

And that's why she's still in the public eye.

So...mental illness or beautiful business ploy, Britney's found a way to make sure her name stays splashed across the headlines.

At the end of the day, when I sit back and see what havoc she's up to creating now, I almost take comfort in this. If anything, it shows she's human. She's bound to make mistakes...and that is the most humbling thing about her from this past year.

So go ahead. Say she's a mess. Say she's a 'terrible role model.' Say she deserves to be locked up.

But sit back and think about your life. Are most of you really that different? Do you really feel any different when experiencing a lot of the same situations she does? Granted, most of you don't have the paparazzi chasing you around or have every damn day of your life made public record...but think about it.

Had your heart broken? Your secrets made private? Something incredibly tragic happen to a loved one?

I thought so.

So lay off the poor girl. If 2007 and the start of 2008 should teach anyone anything, it's that even celebrities make mistakes. So she was knocked off her pedestal a few steps...

Britney will make a comeback.

Mark my words.