Remember Last Year?

Remember when Kurt Cobain was found dead with bullet holes in his head and was supposed to be hiding from Courtney Love? I don't. I didn't really know what Nirvana was in the pop cultural landscape until 3rd grade. But that hasn't stop me from taking inspiration from the rock icon. Or something to that effect.
Last year, Kurt made millions just by being himself- being dead. How cool is that? Other than to shut his eyes and rest in peace he didn't have to do anything. Too bad he will never ever experience all the money he is making. Fame has its price.

Remember when the Pepsi CEO graced the cover of Fortune trapped in a coke bottle? I don't. But eventually I knew about it. That time everyone thought of Pepsi as the losing one, trapped in a market Coke dominates in. Coca here may have defeated Pepsi in the cola wars but looking back now, everyone will agree that losing to Coke was the best thing that ever happened to Pepsi. In terms of profits, you might just want to say "Coca, what?". Why try beating something unbeatable? Now that is pure genius.
Last Year, Marissa Cooper finally died. This time its for real. Remember when she first "died"? I do. She Oded herself with Tequila and Vicodin and had to be airlifted from Tijuana back to the OC. High while dying. How cool is that? At least she had fun after discovering her boyfriend is doing her best friend.

Some things are worth to be remembered. Last year may be worth remembering. Or not. You want to be Kurt or Marissa. But don't want to die like Kurt or Marissa. Money and being high may be cool but dying is NOT. Just go do something healthy. That's what Pepsi did. How cool is that? Now that is worth remembering.

Ehem, Rhum and Prozac anyone? How about a gunshot? kidding.

I'm Worth It

Now that I have finally told my parents, or a parent rather (blame it on some circumstances) and I have been joking about it to my friends (yes, apparently I do have some), I strongly believe that it’s about time that I make it official and confirm to the world that, yes, I’m an egomaniac, narcissistic, self-centered dork. Emphasis on the dork and more emphasis on the first three words that goes hand in hand with their inevitable clientele: self-worth.

It’s not like I told my mom I wanted to do porn because I haven’t yet and it would have been hard (pun not intended) if I told her that. I’m still even questioning myself whether she took me seriously when I spilled my guts totally out. But telling her about my being almost Narcissus was the most liberating experience I’ve ever felt, aside from, of course, walking around the house naked and telling her one time that I was almost flunking in a particular subject.Surprisingly, it wasn’t really much of a surprise to her. All I got was a pat in the back (kidding!)- no, actually more like a word slap on my face followed by a “Hey, its obvious where you got your looks from and your father and I are so proud of your witty banters, kick-ass intelligence and drop-dead gorgeousness but arrogance is something you shouldn’t have gotten from our near perfect gene pool. I’m sorry, but I think you’re not my son.” Ouch. Okay, I made that whole dialogue thing up. All I got were occasional stares of disdain and a lecture on why arrogance is bad. I’m still their son.

Recently in Time magazine, Samuel L. Jackson admitted that he is a narcissist. In my world people have known me to be as such also. No, that had not to be worth something. Just a coincidence. What is wrong with being a narcissist anyway? I’m not a murderer. I did not steal. The only thing that is “wrong” in public opinion is that I put high value on myself and my self-importance. Is that a crime? At least, I’m honest.You may not admit it or may not even be aware of it but there’s a little me in you. Inside your body’s core lurks a little James Asinero waiting to roar out your worth in the world. Or who knows? It might be a Samuel L. Jacson, a Robbie Williams, a Paris Hilton or even a Princess Diana’s son in you.For the first time, a real teen and not Dr. Phil made the proclamation of one’s self-worth an issue. When did you see a dork who is proud to be one? If I were to choose between an inflated balloon and an airless wrinkled one, I would rather be slightly airy than look worse and fell bitter than a bitter gourd. I’ll learn to love myself first, before I’ll learn to love others.

Be your own hero, spread the narcissism bug.