Pantheons and Lace Roses

Dearest,

Your idea for the cameo/stamp/explanation patent has taken my breath away. Proceed post-haste!

I spent today among the younger generation, and then more of today convalescing by reading the gossip blogs. As we once discussed, while there is the classic pantheon of the tabloids, there is a new crop of unfamiliar demi-gods. I don’t know their names, and when I am forced to read about their lives (forced!) or assess their fashion choices/tanning abilities, I wonder if I am losing the edge that got me so far in life (where and how are other stories, for other times).

Angelina=Hera (she makes for a spectacular Hera, of course)

Brad=Apollo (tricky, because he isn’t Zeus, but I just don’t think he is Zeus material. Thoughts?)

Jenifer Anniston=Penelope (not a goddess, which makes sense because she really doesn’t work much, but we still watch her waiting for her hubby to come home, and she keeps almost marrying all these other suitors…unweaving the loom, perhaps? Of course this now means that Brad is Odysseus, but lets just say that I can mix my epics and pantheons for the sake of parsing these everpresent idols. I love the word “parsing” by the way.)

Paris/Heidi/Lauren=I want to make them all (and their like) the Scylla. Not sure why. It might be that the Scylla has a growling wolf head growing from her waist. Which, as I type, sounds cooler than I would like to allow for this pack. Hmm….they are awaiting further definition.

There are so many more. Perhaps you could help me in my classifications? As for these other newbies, Gossip Girls, I guess, I am struck with how they have arrived at celebrity without my acknowledgment of their existence. Is this what aging is–less acknowledgment of existence?

In other news, I read today that Christina Applegate is recovering from her double mastectomy by making lace roses by the hundreds, as reported by friend Lance Bass (via Jezebel). He seems to have said it with wonder, adding “she doesn’t know what she is going to do with them.” This all makes me very sad, and yet it does seem to capture how healing and loss create some odd artifacts in their wake.

Yours,

Carla Fran