Taylor Swift Syndrome

Taylor Swift is ruining our lives.

Aside from dominating the iTunes Top 100 and therefore ruining my browsing pleasure, she is seriously and negatively affecting society. How you say? I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!

This girl, for some reason, has a great deal of power. She's like a baby Hitler for tween and teen girls, and no matter how much I protest, even some of my own gal pals. She pulls them in with her poppy (not country-y) songs and relatable lyrics, because let's face it, who hasn't been 15 and heartbroken? And if you grew up in the South, it's unlikely you don't have "Tim McGraw" in your music library, even if you're a 20-something who wants to teach the world about the dangers of Miss. Swift and her teardrop-covered guitar.

But these tunes are all propaganda for this darker, deeper thing that scares the shit out of me. T. Swift has been dubbed this cute little girl next door, but if Janis Ian taught me anything, it's that Taylor Swift is a mean girl. She is a mean girl in nice girls clothing, and she's doing a really good job of tricking a lot of people into believing that clothing is the real deal. That trickery is dangerous. That trickery makes girls everywhere believe it's okay to act the way Taylor acts. And the way Taylor acts is manipulative, disrespectful, and far from nice.

Of course I haven't sat down and discussed philosophy and ASOS with the girl, but I don't need to. I don't need to because she airs her dirty laundry via song, even if that means airing other people's dirty laundry, too. And trust me, you can tell a lot about a person by what they're willing to discuss publicly.

Taylor is of this breed of person who doesn't mind sharing her whole life with the world. That's fine to an extent, because she can choose to share whatever she wants with whomever. But when other people come into play, when other people's private lives get thrusted into the public eye just because they intersect with ol' Swiftys, a line gets crossed. When Taylor does things like discuss another woman's sexuality or directly name men in her songs, she is taking away the right of those people to choose what they want or don't want to share with the public. And that's bullying. That's disrespectful. That's mean.

That deeper, darker thing I mentioned earlier? The scary-as-hell thing that Taylor has done? She has created this environment where she is essentially giving the OK to put anyone who slights you on blast, simply for your own selfish wants, but turn around and say "Oh, but I'm hurt, I couldn't possibly share any of the blame, and it's totally fine because I'm the victim!"

Wrong. So wrong.

People are going to hurt you, my little ladies. You're going to get shit upon and jerked around, and probably even worse. But unless there is a true evil to expose – a molester, a rapist, a beater – you're not helping anyone, most of all yourself, by putting people on blast. You're just prolonging your own torment, creating it for others, and disrespecting the boundaries of other human beings.

Your private life is an amazing, beautiful thing. It's something you get to keep close to you and you alone. Once you give it to someone else, you taint it. You can choose to share things with the person you love or even thousands of people if that's your bag, but the choice should always be yours, and you should never feel like someone has taken away your right to privacy. You should never, ever feel like you're allowed to take it away from someone else. And you should never, ever, ever let Taylor Swift Syndrome let you think it's okay to be an asshole just to make yourself feel better at the expense of one or ten or hundreds of other people.

There might be a fleeting sense of satisfaction Taylor's way, but there is such a prolonged, beautiful, peaceful bliss in caring about other people's feelings, letting things go, and keeping your dirty laundry in the nice, warm wicker basket in your bedroom at home.

Don't let Little Miss. Swift pull that polka-dotted, J.Crew sweater over your eyes. Being a disrespectful dick isn't cool, no matter how rockin' your bangs are. In the words of some much better songwriters, let it be.

HB: Rumours

Rumors look cool when they're spelled like the Fleetwood Mac album title, but in reality, they are unattractive, annoying, and childish. I thought I'd left the days of hearing and being the center of rumors behind in high school, but they rear their heads now and then. Really, you'd think they'd get the hint that I'm not into them anymore. Rumors and I, we broke up a long time ago, and not even a big bouquet of sunflowers can redeem them for me.

When we were a certain age, these kind of funny stories and vicious lies were a way of life. Maybe that is a misconception on my part, but I know in my small-town high school, this was absolutely true. We bonded and broke because of gossip that may or may not have been true. We entertained ourselves with the facts and fallacies of people's lives because we didn't know any better.

There came a time, maybe in late high school, probably in college, possibly after nabbing that Bachelors, when we all grew up and found ideas more fascinating than whether or not our friend actually got drunk enough to hook up with this stupid guy we kissed once, five years ago. That kinda thing just lost its bite when we all grew up into better and brighter people.

The fact remains that even these more intelligent creatures we've evolved into still love a juicy rumor. It's human nature, but it's just not socially or morally acceptable to be a rumor-spreading asshole after your skin has cleared and you have seen a bit of the world. It's for that precise reason why we created an industry for celebrity gossip rags. We get to indulge in scandal without having a guilt trip with Ben and Jerry on the couch later.

We also enjoy a good celeb rumor because we're so far removed that we can never be burned by it. We all want to be in the know, but none of us want to be the center of a scandalous (or not so) topic of conversation. We enjoy it from a bird's eye view, but things change when the camera angle zooms tight around our own faces.

For the most part, a little gossip in social circles never hurts anyone, despite it being a social faux pas. However, there's a line between appropriate, healthy chit-chat and completely insane lies. Whether we're talking about our friends or they're talking about us, it's just not cool to falsify information for whatever reason. The right rumor has the power to destroy lives if it's released to the right people at the right time. (Haven't any of you seen the movie "Gossip!?")

The sad thing is, we're supposed to like our friends. We're supposed to be supportive. We're supposed to be happy for them when they're happy, and sad with them when they're sad. We're not supposed to attack each other like rabid dogs simply because we're unhappy, jealous, or bored.

Recently, the rumor mill around me has been on fire. While it doesn't actually injure me because I am strong enough in my own gait to continue down my own life path, it does piss me the hell off.

It angers me that petty envy can make people try to infect my happiness simply because they don't have their own kind. It riles me up to know that people I trust are out there breaking that faith for their own entertainment. It's disheartening to know these faceless gossipers are choosing to weaken our friendship rather than strengthen it. And for what? Less boredom? The debatably tasty morsel of a rumor on the tongue for maybe 30 seconds? What a sad way to treat your pals.

We all talk a little talk, but the difference between talking about Mary's latest Saturday night and her maybe-that's what I heard-no way!-STD is the motive. The former is out of natural curiosity, while the latter is vindictive, disrespectful, and inappropriate behavior for a trusted friend. Enough is enough, y'all. Let's all - old and young, guilty and innocent, me and you - grow up a bit.

We're not The Plastics, ya know?

Gifs to Describe My Grief Over Not Keeping Up With This Blog

In other news, I had a super fabulous weekend in Raleighwood that involved things like swimming and cheap champagne. I'm starting to truly master this whole weekend concept. I think I'll be an expert soon enough...

Tonight I'm gonna brainstorm for this and my other severely malnourished blogs, and tomorrow I'm gonna work and run errands.