Y’all, I’m going to be honest. I want to be Gabby Douglas’ friend. I’m not talking casual friendship. You know the kind where you bump into someone on the street and the both of you pretend like you’re not counting in your heads how long you until you can exit the conversation without looking like you didn’t want to leave the convo. I’m talking inside-joke having, clothes swapping, can-you-look-something-up-for-me-on-WebMD-and-tell-me-I’m-not-going-to-die-because-I-trust-my-uninformed-best-friend-forever-over-some-Harvard-doctor kind of friendship. Can we do that, Gabs? I know I’m standing in a long ass line of folks who also adore and wanna go halfsies on huevos rancheros sometime, but I’m putting out there. Let’s. Do. This.
Ok, #TeamBlaria. You got me. Clearly, I’m not neutral when it comes to the matter of Gabby Douglas and seemingly on Twitter, a lot of other people aren’t either. In fact, plenty of people are passionate about her. But the focus of their attention isn’t directed at her accomplishments, or her poise, or her skills as an athlete. It’s aimed at her hair. That’s right, her hair. WTF?! When I read the negative tweets about Douglas’ hair, I responded like this in my apartment:
All I could do was laugh because clearly these people trashing Douglas are being petty. Sidenote: when I was laughing, I wasn’t wearing gorgeous lingerie from La Perla and being lit beautifully. I was sitting underneath a GE light bulb and wearing cut up shorts, which made me think about my sad, sad checking account. So maybe I was laughing more about at how much money I don’t have than the nasty tweets. But the point is that I can’t laugh about it anymore. I gotta blog about it. After all, that’s the Blaria way.