Celebrity gossip is to women what sports are to men. We live the hunt vicariously, for love, for the revenge body, for the perfect shoe/bag combo… and just for the record I was on “Team Jen.” There’s no shame here; I delight in relational dramz as much as the next gal. It’s just how our brains are wired. Those silly boys tease us while they’re out there literally losing sleep over whether some other dude gets a ball in a hole – way to go buddy, way to go.

But celebrity gossip is life and death! The problem of course is that it’s not our life…. and so basically becomes some other permutation of balls and holes (sorry). I’ve defended my distraction as resetting my alpha brainwaves, social reaction research for social media, and other “smart” rationalizations, but there’s no harm in admitting the simple truth: it’s fun. So why breakup?

They say when you fall back into addiction you hit right where you left off. After a gossip dry January, noble if bleak, I pitched headlong back into the abyss. I lost all track of time, where I was, what I was ‘supposed’ to be doing. But I had a goal, imbued with the exquisite purity of purpose of any addicted brain. I wanted, needed satisfaction!!!

And so at 6:04am on February 1st, when I finally came to my senses after hours of deep digging, I discovered I’d been watching old youtube radio show clips of post-divorce Kevin Federline while simultaneously wading around in the bilge waters of old Britney interviews (love her) trying to flush out the authenticity of her parents reactions in episode 5 of her reality show Chaotic …you know you want to click through…come on…everybody’s doing it. It’s not the furthest I’ve fallen, but for an overthinking autodidact like myself, it’s a pretty slippery slope.

Funny thing was, I didn’t miss it for all of my gossip free January. Note: except, of course, for a brief moment of panic at not being able to poke around ScarJo’s latest separation. Email me if you know anything extra juicy! I’ll be honest, I did allow myself quite a bit of Donald Trump methadone, because politics is a grey area and, like, seriously, no sane human could in good conscious pass up that level of DRAMZ. I didn’t miss the hollywood stuff because I’m not emotionally involved – they ain’t my people – and because once we make a decision that feels congruent on all levels of consciousness the brain is quick to adapt our motivations. When you’re ready to quit something, you quit. But that tiny Feb. 1st permission was enough to show me that I’ve carved those particular pathways in my neural network too deep to mess with. I am safe as long as I keep my decision solid. I know my brain.

Should you give it a rest? Should you breakup with celebrity gossip? Can you give up Kim and Kanye? Only if it’s dragging you away from your reality… but wait, isn’t that the whole point? Yes, but distraction is an accessory, a complement to whole. In the original Harpers Bazaar photo from the collage above, Kim has a garish purple bag. It may have been Dior, but I cut it out.