I find myself chagrined to be writing a letter to you. That’s not what I envisioned when I started this blog. However, I saw a picture of you in court the other day and almost fainted. No matter what color your hair or how strung out you were, you used to be a really pretty girl. I’m coming up in a few years on a half century of life and I look younger than you do.

If nothing else gets you to change your ways, take a good look at the pictures that are being taken of you; hold up the mirror that’s on your “coffee” table and look at yourself under real light — like during the day when the sun shines. You’re face is telling you something that hangers on are probably loathe to say: stop it.

Your body has had enough. And while you said in the past that you loved Marilyn Monroe and identified with her in some way, you really don’t want to be dead before you’ve hit 25 do you? She even made it to 36. And she looked better at the end than you do now. You’re closer to how Judy Garland looked at the end. Puffy, wrinkled, unkempt. You look like you smell bad. Get a grip girl. America loves a comeback. Give us one.

Good Luck

Lisa