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…And when I say “We” I, of course, mean Amy Winehouse and myself.

The only thing I had ever taken in from this brawd was when they played the chorus of “Rehab” in every freaking commercial break on MTV. All I knew was that beehive was too freaking much and that MTV had officially kicked me violently out of their demo.

Then eventually I saw a full body shot and she was like 13 lbs.
And that photo was of her in nothing but a tacky red bra and jeans, barefoot, wandering the streets of London. Now I’ve never been to London, but I’ve seen Mary Poppins a thousand times and I’ve read all of the Narnia and Harry Potter books.

That outfit did NOT sound appropriate to me.

Basically, I didn’t know what the hell was going on.

But now someone had to go ahead and send me a youtube link of her grammy performance. And, well…

Amy killed it.
I’m sorry, but she did!
She killed it while managing to balance on those tiny-ass legs and with that big, fat hair.

So now Amy is all bought up in my iTunes and and she’s stuck with me here in my iPod on the subway. And in my apartment when I’m cleaning. And my bedroom when I wanna dance all sexy by myself…or someone else.

But I’m all Buddhist now and 32 and ready to learn my life lessons from Amy Winehouse. If she can wear a bra outside in the middle of the night, maybe I can wear a surprising color like orange for a winter sweater. Or if she can stick by her man “Blakey-y Incarcerated” perhaps I can widen my dating circle a bit. I mean, do my future boyfriends HAVE to live in the same borough I do?

More importantly, do we think Amy is learning something from me?! Is it possible when she’s getting all gussied up in some really great bra/jeans combo for a wild night in London that all of sudden she has a miraculous change of heart, “wait a minute, isn’t Lost on? Let’s just get some chinese and watch the whole season on DVD!!”

Buddha, or “buddh-sies” as I like I to call him, speaks of the “middle way” quite a bit. I think that’s where Amy and I have met finally met up. She may not know that yet. But she’ll realize something’s up when she’s at a supermarket somewhere buying ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies.

Of course, she will be sending them to dear Blake-y Incarcerated.

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