College is supposed to be a place where the safety of childhood overlaps with the freedom of adulthood. But last week, Starshine laments, it wasn’t.
Writer & Columnist • Santa Barbara, CA
Writer & Columnist • Santa Barbara, CA
College is supposed to be a place where the safety of childhood overlaps with the freedom of adulthood. But last week, Starshine laments, it wasn’t.
On the highway of life, nothing forces an appreciation of the here and now like the crowded, noisy chaos of family road trip. Starshine explains.
Last weekend, like all weekends before it, I was confronted with a barrage of shame-inducing images: Fleshless twenty-somethings flitting along downtown sidewalks in jeans tighter than the skin on grapes. Itty bitty bikinis dangling in department store windows, looking more like polka dot rubber bands than something that might actually cover my ba-donk-a-donk.
Whiny, drooly and prone to mess themselves just as you’re headed out the door, puppies and newborn babies have a lot in common. But who’s more trouble?
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.
Starshine reveals the bare-bottom truths about spanking.
Starshine mixes some social commentary with a tribute to Dr. Suess on his birthday.
Inspired by Rev. Ted Haggard’s miraculous conversion, Starshine Roshell confesses her boredom with heterosexuality and ponders the possibility of making a switch.