Where Are Britney's Jurlfriends?

Poor Britney Spears has finally lost custody of her two little boys. In a world that is topsy turvy, Kevin Federline has been judged by a court of law to be a superior parent. Oh, Brit, how low can you go?

Britney's behavior prompts even the borderline sane to question what the hay is going on? Is she mentally ill? Is it drugs and alcohol? Is she really a bad mother or does she make the same mistakes every other young, inexperienced mother makes, but hers are broadcast to the critical world at large? Are her parents to blame? Has she fallen in with a weird head shaving cult?

The question that continues to pop in my mind when I see entertainment headlines about Brit Brit is, "Where are your jurlfriends, jurl?" A good jurlfriend would never have let her shave her head. A good jurlfriend would have reminded her to put her underdrawers on before going out to party. A good jurlfriend would offer to hold her bottle of water so Brit could have both hands to hold her kid. A really good jurlfriend would have reminded her to use a condom every time K Fed entered the room. A great friend would have made her see what a skanky tool he was to begin with!

Good jurlfriends save you from yourself. I hate to think where I'd be without my jurls. Every step toward success I've ever taken in my life has been the result of a push, prod, or kick in the ass from a woman. Whether it was my mother, grandmother, cousin, Aunt, or dear friend, there was always a good jurl making sure I didn't falter a long the way in life.

Even now when I'm ostensibly a "grown-up" with children of my own I still need support. Lots of support. Lots and lots of support. I'm talking Dolly Parton bosom support. I need my friends to tell me to pull my head out and stop feeling sorry for myself when I forget how good I've got it. I need them to tell me they think I'm hilarious when I'm feeling ordinary. I need them to hear me complain about my husband, but never doubt how much I love him. I need them to tell me that they too have almost thrown their child through a window when they could no longer take the screaming for a fifth Popsicle.

I trust my jurlfriends with everything. I give them my heartache and my joy so I don't have to experience either alone. They tell my when my boobs appear to be getting better acquainted with my knees and advise that I should seek a new bra at Nordstrom's (one dear friend even gave me a bra for Christmas!). They give me honest, but gentle answers when I ask, "Do I look fat in this?"

Jurlfriends always hear way more than what you're telling them. They know when you're hurting and they desperately want to make it better for you. My jurls can bandage a boo boo on your soul better than any M.D. And even though we don't talk every day I keep with me the knowledge that they're out there should I need them. Even when I drop off the face of the earth or forget their birthday or forget their big date, they are there for me, waiting to hear my news, my complaints, and my jokes.

I love jurlfriends and not just my own. I get a giggle out of seeing a group of raucous women having a good time together. I love the sound of jurlfriends chattering and laughing while they sip margaritas. I believe that given some authority and enough margaritas, a group of good jurlfriends could solve the world's problems. They're already solving each others problems so what's world hunger and global warming?

I can't help wondering why there doesn't seem to be any person in Britney's life to slap her around until she recognizes she needs help. Maybe she became famous before she was old enough to establish strong jurlfriend connections. Maybe money and fame have made her so arrogant she destroyed her relationships. My prayer for Britney is that she will happen across a good jurlfriend that will save her life, much like my jurls have saved mine and continue to do so every day.

We'll probably never know what's really going on with Britney Spears or why the wheels have completely flown off her bus, but what I do know is that tonight I'd rather be a chubby, unknown, middle aged woman with a good husband, custody of my sweet children, and, of course, my wonderful, beautiful jurlfriends than be a troubled pop star. Now, if I could have the pop star part without the trouble.......