Star Crossed Failures

Dear ElissaGator,
I find it odd and strange and out right disgusting that our culture is obsessed with celebrities. Why is that? How can I help my fellow Americans to get un-obsessed? -Star Stupefied Sally

Sad Sally,
What exactly is a celebrity? A celebrity can be defined by one or more of these symptoms:
1) Is constantly getting camera time because they are going  into rehab.
2) Is constantly getting camera time because they are leaving rehab.
3) Is constantly getting camera time because they are going back into rehab.
4) Makes the nightly news for leaving obscene voice mail messages.
5) Makes the nightly news for having obscene parties in hotel rooms.
6) Songs on their platinum album are true stories about every boy they've ever known.
7) Songs that they perform are overlooked by the fact that they're wearing rotting meat as a dress.
8) Has ever been on Letterman or Leno
9) Has ever been on Oprah (or given their own show because of multiple appearances on Oprah. Check out Oprah's new network "OWN" now!") 
10) Adopts 5 children from 5 different countries with a photo shoot of each adoption appearing in the all major magazines.
11) Adopts radical causes as their own when their summer movie flopped 
11) Is an advice columnist for a well-known blog that pictures an alligator at the top.

It appears to me that you are obsessed with celebrities (see item #11). Please don't be hypocritical. No one likes a hypocrite.
You're welcome. 


Dear ElissaGator,
I really like this girl, in fact you could say we're dating, but we live far apart, so it makes it hard to have a meaningful relationship. When we do try to get together, her father sometimes foils our plans. How do I make this long-distance relationship work? T. Renton

Tragically You,
Meaningful relationship? Do you think anyone really has a "meaningful relationship?" I certainly don't. Does that mean I cry myself to sleep every night and eat Ben and Jerry's Oatmeal Chocolate Chunk by the pint? Do you think I write poems that sound like they're written by an emo teenager who just found out Willy Shakespeare isn't actually living? Have I ever gone to the park in the spring just to throw rotting eggs at the faces of lovers sucking on each other? Would I ever clandestinely sneak into a florist's on Feb. 13 and spray paint all the roses black, poke the eyes out of every cutesy-chubby teddy bear and replace boxes of chocolate with laxative laced marzipan bites?

No. Because I am better than that. I am a strong, confident woman who keeps the key to my heart on my key chain so I can keep it safe and secure in my purse. I pity those who frolic in flirtatious flamenco fun with a significant other, because they don't have the time to enjoy every Harlequin romance piece of literature ever written. It makes me sad that people are dumb enough to want to spend every waking second with another person; I learned long ago that spending every waking second with myself was plenty hard. So brownie points to the father for Reynold's Foil Wrapping your plans. You'll thank him one day. The day after you thank me.
You're welcome.


*Syndicated Editor's note: ElissaGator has taken the challenge to answer/give advice freely for the next 30 days. She would have done it for the next 365 days, had the thought of utter failure not demised her attempts. You may ask her any question about herself, or ask for any advice for yourself or in behalf of a loved/hated/neutrally-platonic one. 

This is day 3 of 30.