Lettuce? Yes. String cheese? Sure. But did you know there’s bliss to be found in the aisles of a supermarket?
Writer & Columnist • Santa Barbara, CA
Writer & Columnist • Santa Barbara, CA
Lettuce? Yes. String cheese? Sure. But did you know there’s bliss to be found in the aisles of a supermarket?
I’m no stranger to sedation. As a teen, whenever the storm of adolescence would shudder through my soul and come surging out of my face in the form of sobs and tears, my mother would offer me Valium.
There were girls at my school who got their first period — and the almost-breasts that came with it — at age 11. We “late bloomers” revered them as divine othergirls, elevated beings with a god-given head start into grown-up-ness.
We would never catch up.
And yet, I was in no hurry to bleed. If it meant carrying a purse, wearing a bra and having to listen to “More Than a Feeling” while making out with Jamie Lieberman behind the handball court, then — gross — you could keep your lousy period.
The day it finally came, I threw up.
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Starshine compares nutty astronauts and icy presidential candidates, asking ‘How do we want our female leaders— passionate and unpredictable or controlled and calculated?’
Starshine answers for her puzzling, pony-tailed gender in The Third-Grader’s Guide to Girls.
With the Super Bowl looming, Starshine reminds us what football’s really all about: The outfits.
Starshine takes a cold, hard look at what’s going on beneath women’s blouses.