Gossip

What is happening to me? On one end I am all ‘wildlife experience, Orangutan charity’ –ish and on the other I can’t get enough from TV-glamour-celeb gossip.

From one of the links thrown at me by Twitter I stumbled over the Daily mail website – I must have done before but never cared – but now I am hooked. First thing in the morning when I sneak back upstairs with my cup of cappuccino to sit a bit in my artificial sun, which by the way seems to be working for me, the first thing I look at is the gossip page. Oh, maybe it IS the sun, that Ibiza feel that triggers it?

However, I am thrilled to see 51 year old Sharon Stone without make-up and then glammed up, thinking: Well, a bit of paint does do some good to an old house, I really should learn how to decorate my face for those emergency moments when a big outing is looming.

And I am thrilled to see which funny turns the articles take. Like the one about Fergie - Black Eyed Peas – Ferguson where the headline suggests it’s about her and husband showing up at an event allegedly to brush aside a stripper’s affair claims. The first turn then takes us to her staring alongside famous people in a film of which the premiere saw or did not see – so weirdly phrased that I don’t really get it – a megastar cast, and the last twist explains the lives of those megastars and whether they have singing skills or not, and then the big final: a picture of the whole cast where Fergie – she is incredibly short, even in heals – is fading somewhere in the background. Hmm, and I am working my brains out to be consistent in my stories.

I guess what excites me most however, is that my voyeurism is getting satisfied. Oh, all these wonderful wobblies, and fashion faux pas, all the make-up mistakes and misbehaviours… wonderful how human these celebs are. And bringing their status down a few degrees seems to be bringing mine up a similar amount, creating this tingly feel-good factor. Just that it’s not true; it only levels things out a bit. The decent way to reduce the status gap, would be to work my way up rather than bringing them down. Oh well, and then of course there is this bit of malicious glee that is born out of envy.

But you know what? It’s just lovely to live all these mean little feelings for this brief, half sleepy moment when I am sitting with my cuppa and my light, trying to find the entrance door to the day ahead. Consciousness is not yet fully awaken, which for the rest of the day at least tries to make me the good gal I am supposed and want to be. So with the guards still down it’s only between my computer and me… and the machine won’t tell anybody…, or will it?