I wish they all could be funny. Or at least heart-warming. That would be nice. But that's just not how it happens these days. Today, I've got nothing. And yesterday. And the day before that. And for weeks and weeks, actually. But nothing isn't really an accurate description. There's a lot. I've got a lot of stuff floating around. It's just . . .

This hole I'm in. How did I get here, anyway? It seems like I just woke up one morning and realized that - wow, man - I'm really down in this thing. Ankle deep in the mud. And I must admit, I'm heavy bored. The cool, sighing earth all around. Even the hole is bored. Bored with me being bored. Bored with me being trapped . . . somewhat. Stuck . . . sort of. Contained enough to make it hard to move. Free enough to still move around like a normal human being. I've got food and water down here, which appear magically at regular intervals. A little cave for shelter. All of this - all of this crap keeps me comfortable.

But what to do about the tread? What to do about these bumps and dents. I can run my hand along the walls down here and I know where each and every last one begins and ends. I can anticipate them. And it's tedious. And it's trite. And it's exhausting. I'm too young for this. Aren't I? And, yet, I'm too old to go on thinking they'll just go away on their own.

And the hard thing isn't the escape. The hard thing is deciding which escape to use. There's this ladder, for instance. Shiny. Never been used. There's the rope over here, with little knots tied off to make it easier to ascend. Somebody even left me a freakin' jet-pack. I mean, come on. There are these little gifts all around me. All of these, these options. And they're all a way out of this thing. They're all a way up there. Which is a place I can't see. An unknown. Even scarier than the damn hole. And maybe I don't want to escape, after all. Because there's just too many choices. For so long, escape has been the idea of that ladder. The idea of that rope. The idea of the jet-pack.

And why should I do anything of any real substance anyway when there are these posts to write? One after the other, in reverse chronology. Ordered so that a reading forwards is actually backwards - revealing a strange reverse progression. Every day there's a new ending, which for newcomers winds up being the beginning. And to put all of this shit down - for what? To make me feel better? To make the Internets more populated with stuff to read? Like it needs it. Like it even wants it. Aren't these posts — these riffs — part of what keeps me stuck here?

And I can't believe I'm about to go off on this tangent, because — holy crap — it's completely off-topic, and I'm warning you, it's not entirely clear where this is going. But if you care to follow, it's actually quite emblematic of the kind of twists and turns my brain makes these days. So here goes: What happened to Gwen Stefani, anyway? Because I'm watching music videos the other day on Yahoo! or YouTube, or one of those online video worlds that are now making up for the void MTV and VH1 used to fill — you know, "multi-tasking," which is a way of saying, "trying to keep from going crazy while working alone in my house all day" — and I see her writhing around in bed with the white silk sheets and the singing about staying up til 4 am, crying about something. And I'm squinting at this through a film of confusion, thinking, when did this happen? When did "Gwen" become this delicate, doe-eyed, mass-produced pop star churning out catchy, but safe, radio-friendly hits? Still hot, mind you. But not in that edgy, tough-girl, ska-punk, outrageous, platform-shoe, plaid-pant, tank-top-slash-athletic-bra wearing, neon-attitude sort of way. Her hotness is now a warm simmer — a classy, polished, fashion-model kind of hot. My god, have I been asleep since 1996? Is this what being married to Gavin Rossdale does to a person? Having a one-year old son — does it lead to this? Surely not for most people. But this is Gwen, after all. And now she's wearing night-gowns and bathrobes and business suits in her videos . . . grown-up clothes. Looking completely her age and shit. Well, almost. And all I can think about is Spiderwebs, and Just a Girl, and Excuse Me, Mister. And maybe she'll pop out of those serious clothes and start acting crazy again, maybe she'll let out one of her trademark trills — that thing she does with her voice where . . . oh, probably not.

And don't get me wrong, this Gwen is still great. The song is catchy, and actually I kind of like it in a guilty way. But it's just not that "No Doubt" sort of sound that sparks a fire. But the sad reality is that the "No-Doubt Gwen" is probably gone. She's been replaced in the market by Lily Allens and Amy Winehouses. Which is not to compare her past sound with either of theirs, and certainly not to compare her image. It's just, these are the fresh, the new, the young tough-sounding female pop singers of 2007. And nobody is apologizing that "Gwen" is no longer one of them, least of all her. Because it's healthy. It's a good thing. For her. And for us. Because the last thing I'd want to do is go on some rant about her "selling out," or "man, she was so much better when" or "she's just not staying true to her sound," as if she - as if anybody - had some sort of obligation to always remain the same. People who make those sorts of complaints are really only crying over their own condition. Of aging. Of loss. Of being stuck.

So I say, good for her. For changing. For evolving her image and her sound. For escaping herself. I don't necessarily want the old Gwen Stefani back. I'm just acknowledging that I sort of miss her. And isn't that strange? To miss somebody you don't really even know? But what I really miss isn't her at all. What I really miss is myself. Because, more than anything, the loss of her is the loss of me. And it's probably time for a little re-invention of my own.

But maybe that was a poor parallel. Because comparing something like this to pop stardom now seems really weird and misplaced. I've got no excuse other than to say, I need an editor.

Or maybe I just need out of this hole. I think it's time I use the jet pack.

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