I am, if ever so briefly, an A-List blogebrity. Now I get to experience popularity for the first time, only without any actual warm bodies around to say nice things and give me stuff and without the sculpted good looks and super-whitened teeth and without the concomitant eating disorder. But I at least get to look at this cutesy pink star for a while until my newfound stardom descends to its normal F- or R-listing.

High school was never this kind to me, but then I was too busy brooding over my mortality and the verity of the creator god I was being spoon-fed on a daily basis to take much notice of the popular girls with the wallabangs and Club Monaco sweatshirts and blue mascara. I had nihilism and transcendental meditation and pot smoking to discover.

Go me!

A-List Blogger

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