One Other Thing Before I Go

Can I just mention how supremely irritating it is that I can't buy Bob Seger's "Hollywood Nights" on iTunes?

Supremely. Irritating.

I'm posting this here, now, so it's there when I need it like RIGHT NOW. God. Take me out of this godforsaken place, Bob.

Blog Glee

I'm sitting in my office right now, it's 9:15 at night and I want to go home but I haven't hit my two page quota for my novel and I'm stuck in a serious ditch here, people, for real. The kind of creative anguish that comes when you know exactly where you're supposed to go and for the life of you, you just cannot get there. At this point, I couldn't write my way out of a paper bag. I can't even think of a better metaphor.

Otherwise known as the Dread Middle. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, let me just tell you that it royally sucks. I mean, I stayed, I'm sitting here alone in a dark office and I have nothing to show for it today but two wasted hours, one measly, greasy page of text I'll probably chop in editing, and a few dozen movie trailers I've watched online to get myself back into the mood. (PS The summer movie situation isn't looking so hot. God, I'm such a sad sack right now. Sorry.)

Having said all that and thus whining enough to fill a full glass, can I just say that there is quite possibly nothing that could have made me feel better than to get two of my favoritest blog-treats ever, which is 1) the world's sweetest mention on my friend Jen's own fantastic blog, Sumeba Miyako, including bringing up my short and oh so sweet brush with Internet fame this past summer. Even though she's only been blogging for a few months and is such a natural at it that I sometimes get the urge to hurt her.

AND a comment from a Blogger I seriously love and read every day. Petunia Face is awesome, in case you're slow and/or have not yet gotten the memo (my friend/coworker Michael is also a fan and it's almost impossible to tear him away from Facebook and TWoP so that's a serious endorsement there) and I think with these two little pieces of blog-heaven, I might actually be able to tear my ass out of my chair now. Thank God for that. I'm starving.

...Crickets...

I realized last night as I was drifting off to sleep, that I hadn't spoken to another soul the entire day.

Not a single person. I mean, I left two voice mail messages for people but that doesn't count. And it wasn't like I spent the whole day in my pajamas. I went to the supermarket, went to the office for a few hours. I spent quality time in the kitchen- just me, a pound of mozzarella and various carbohydrates to stuff said cheese into. I did laundry. I mean, I put makeup on and real clothes and everything. I saw sunlight.

But it wasn't until I'd closed my eyes that I realized that, other than those two voicemail messages, I hadn't spoken a word out loud. To anyone. For almost sixteen hours. No calls, texts or emails either.

It was amazing.

Ok, wait- hear me out. I am not a hermit. I have a family I'm close to, I have a solid group of friends out here and scattered all over the place and I adore and appreciate each and every one of them. You just cannot deny the importance of nurturing relationships, people to love who can love you back, supporting each other, cheering them on, letting them console you...it's what makes the world a beautiful thing. I'm sure it's what keeps me from muttering to myself on a street corner somewhere.

And yet...silence is just completely, utterly underrated. I know mothers with young children (and older too, come to think of it) understand what I mean- that craving for just five damn minutes of peace, when there's no one to answer to, no mouths to wipe, no messes to chase after. Silence can be purely selfish- its insular and requires nothing from you. Actually that's not true- it demands distance, a detachment from others and their needs- whether its for your input, your time or your company.

I know people who cannot physically bear it- the silence of being alone. I'm sure you do too- they're either on the phone or email or on their blackberry, making plans for later in the day when they can actually see another person- that's really when their lives get color, when their day takes shape- centered around interaction with other people. The idea of going to a movie or a restaurant by themselves is unfathomable. Which is funny, because the idea of spending every single day like that- wrapped up in interaction with others, is beyond my comprehension. I would snap, I'm sure of it. I'd be ok for a while but eventually you would find me in the stall of a public bathroom, hands over my ears and my eyes shut tight.

Which worries me a little. Lately I've been thinking a lot about having kids- do I want them, when would I procure one (I like saying "procure" as if they're something I can find on Overstock.com), do I really want one or am I just supposed to want one? That last question comes up the most. A huge part of me does, the part that has a massive reservoir of love and nurturing and very specific opinions about parenthood all stored up (what do you expect from a person with 10+ years of baby-sitting experience behind her?). And then the rest of me thinks I must be insane, just plain crazy. It should be no surprise that its the same part that feels like doing cartwheels when I've had a full day without a peep from another soul. No surprise but very confusing, as you could imagine.

For Vic, Jenn and anyone else

around the age of 25-35 who became shriveled masses of shrieking joy when they saw this:



Hilarious. First of all, may I just say that they actually all look really good (as it was when I was eight, my god this was a long time ago, I still only have eyes for Joey. I could not take my eyes off him. Where did I put my scrunchie?!). Second, I was watching this morning (thanks for tivoing it, Vic. I am sincerely going to miss that fabulous aspect of having a roommate when I move to Chicago) and just could not stop laughing at how these women were SCREAMING. They're all roughly my age, a little older maybe, but the fact that we're all adults and have jobs and husbands and children has fully disappeared into 16 year old hysteria at the sight of Donny Walherg. These women brought their NKOTB buttons for God's sake. I don't even know what to say.

Donny just looked so relieved at the reception. As my sister pointed out on the phone this morning, you just know they were having serious misgivings behind that curtain. The same feeling you get in those fifteen minutes right before you throw a party that no one will come and you'll be stuck with four bottles of seltzer and cranberry juice, a reminder you'll have for months of what a friendless loser you are.

I mean, some of these guys have jobs by now- for serious jobs, the kinds of jobs that require conference calls and sales quarters and golf outings. Not to mention new kids of their own. The equivalent might be if my father disappeared into the city one day and instead of going to the office, my mother tells me oh, so casually that he was a member of Wham! back in the day and they were getting together for some limited appearances, some gyrating dance moves and bringing middle-aged women on stage to sing to them, maybe give them a rose. What?! How do you recover from that kind of shift in reality?

And how must these guys feel? I mean, you cannot look back at the NKOTB days and not cringe inwardly a little. Think about what it means to them- it's like when you did that talent show in middle school and at the time you thought you were a badass for dancing to Motown Philly with your girlfriends on stage in front of every single 11-12-13 year old peer but NOW, oh my god, you just never want to think about it ever again. And what if some producer approached you now, today, and goes, "Hey, we really loved your act- what do you think about bringing it on the road?" What? Are you kidding? And they throw you millions of dollars and hold up a chart of the Spice Girls 2008 tour revenue? There's really only one thing to do.

Motown Philly, back again.

For Luis, Miguel, Teresa, Sheridan...

So I know where I'm going to be this weekend....

Passions Props Sale (from Soaps.com)

Wednesday, April 02 2008

(NBC)

This week, we got the final definitive news that Passions would be ending after running, on various networks, for nine years. Although this is sad news for those of us who have stayed with it through its ups and downs, all things, good and evil, come to an end, even the mayhem in Harmony.

With the show now finished shooting, fans may start looking for a way to say goodbye in style. Luckily for them, there is going to be a golden opportunity to do so. "We are excited to offer the fans of Passions an opportunity to own a piece of their favorite show," says Stacey Ward, Director of NBC Universal Television DVD, Music and Consumer Products Group. The Group are partnering with Premiere Props to hold a public two-day estate sale of several thousands items from Passions. The sale will feature clothing, housewares and innumerable other items used on the sets of the show over the past several years. Wouldn't you like a chance to get a hold of Tabitha's bowl, Vincent's set of He/She costumes or Spike's pimp clothes, or the plastic fish guts that used to cover Kay when she came home from the cannery? Perhaps you're more excited by the, often flattering, green attire that tended to be favored by the Crane women, or the cleavage enhancing red and black dresses that Rebecca seems to adore so much? Then there are the many dancing shoes, the elaborate costumes from the fantasy sequences of Luis and Sheridan's past lives, or the overtly theatrical props from the many musical numbers that have delighted audiences over the years. No doubt there will be plenty for the avid fan to rummage through and smile at as the past is paraded before them with this wonderful opportunity to take home a piece of TV history.

(NBC)

The sale will be held at the CBS Radford studio lot in Studio City, CA on Saturday, April the 5th and Sunday, April the 6th from 8 AM until 4 PM PST. And please, if you go, be sure to come back and tell Soaps.com what you managed to snag!

Oh, MARIAH!

Why do I feel like since that last post, the only things I can talk about here pertain to bra burning and femi-nazis?

Ok, ok. I solemnly swear to uphold the allegiance all women should share that they will embrace our feminine power, strength of character and intellect as a vibrant and flourishing people, and finally reclaim the respect we deserve...

But first, laugh at this Mariah Carey video. (Come on, she's leading a UNICORN around!)

Worst for Women in Pop Culture

As Hillary Clinton prepares for what is widely believed to be her last debate, I'm forced to wonder about Sex and Politics. I know, I know- it's not as glamorous as Race and Politics but when you hear Pat Buchanan disparage Clinton on MSNBC because her voice reminds him of his wife yelling at him, once again making her campaign about the physical (her hair, her laugh, her cry, her clothes) not on the strength of her experience, character and ideals, where else is there to go really?

And the truth is...I've said for a long time that we would have a black President before a woman President made it into office. Racial discrimination is still a serious, dangerous, ever-present threat to our society. But so are the rampant social perceptions of a gender that currently outnumbers men in this country and yet still only maintain 16% of the Senate and 16% of the House.

And this stuff? It ain't helping the cause. With that, I give you the worst that American pop culture has to offer. Every one of these things puts us "in our place." It's a very bad place. We don't think for ourselves here. We're judged on how we look instead of our brains. We have to beat the crap out of each other because of a guy. Repeatedly. And then come back and do it again in a year. We only want to be liked, but not respected. We talk the talk but we don't act on our ideals.

And we're not putting up much of a fight against any of it.

Reality TV

Why? Take your pic from the big Five, MTV, VH1 and E! Our personal favorites in the Backwards Steps category: any show that sends 12-15 half-naked women scrambling through the world's most degrading challenges over 1 dude who you would avoid at all costs if he approached you in a bar. Even you, Bret Michaels. I would flirt with you for maybe a minute and then go discuss with my friends how awesome that was and why you can't embrace the fact that you're bald. I would not subject myself to scrounging in a dumpster for your guitar pick. Don't get me started on Flavor of Love. I love Public Enemy as much as the next person but let's be honest- Flav is basically a homeless guy who can tell time.

The makers of pretty much every new network television show for the last five years

Why? A few weeks ago, Entertainment Weekly dedicated an article to why networks are having such a difficult time finding the next "Sex and the City," why shows like Lipstick Jungle and Cashmere Mafia are tanking. Gee, I wonder. Let's put aside the fact that Movies and TVs' biggest prevailing problem is that they believe people will swallow a shitty script if the production values are high enough and you get Pat Fielding in your corner. But let's ignore that. Maybe it's because we don't RECOGNIZE these women. Am to believe that some 5'11 former model turned movie exec/mommy/married to hot hubby is anyone I know? How do I relate to her? Why do you want me to care? Let's even ignore the Insanely Beautiful Hollywood Woman versus the Rest of Us theory and just say once and for all what women want to see. It's simple and shocking- it's exactly what men want to see too: Multi-dimensional characters facing realistic, interesting issues and situations. Most disturbing is that these series are supposedly written by women. You've been in LA too long, ladies.

The Katherine Heigl box set (Knocked Up and 27 Dresses)

Why? Full disclaimer- I loved Knocked Up. What I hated was hearing star Katherine Heigl's comments in the press afterword about how demeaning the movie, all of Judd Apatow's work really, is to women. “It was hard for me to love the movie” because it’s “a little sexist…it paints the women as shrews, as humorless and uptight, and it paints the men as goofy, fun-loving guys.” She then proceeds to shill 27 Dresses, about a women's obsession with getting married. And how she's been a bridesmaid 27 times. Which means all of the other women in her life are also obsessed with getting married. Marriage is fine. It's a beautiful institution. But is this premise really what we need? Is this Doris Day reverb? On the grand scale of all we can accomplish as human beings, this is all we can find to talk about?

Marie Claire

Why? I realize I could've taken the easy way out and just stuck Glamour and Cosmo here but Marie Claire really infuriates me. At least Glamour and Cosmo are exactly what they claim to be- they focus on sex and looks. They pretty much haven't changed since I was a teenager- the bar is low. And sex matters, so does the multi-billion beauty industry. Marie Claire is worse because it claims to be more. It insists on including World pieces, the intention of which I applaud. But the pieces themselves? Ugh. The last one I read, had this byline: Teenage girls are grabbing guns and joining the outlawed New People’s Army in the Philippines. Here, a rare glimpse at their secret lives. Fascinating, right? Yeah, well. It was two pages long. Mostly pictures. And pretty much the only copy focused on how these women couldn't have sex or had to keep their boyfriends secret. "Every aspect of NPA life is regulated, including romance; premarital sex is forbidden." It's one thing to truly believe that all women are whores. It's another to know they're not and treat them like that anyway.

The Biggest Loser (what's in a name?)

Why? It's hard to discredit The Biggest Loser on NBC. The show is moving in its intention to get the morbidly obese back to fighting shape, in most cases saving these people's lives and giving them back to their families. Not to meant inspiring the fattest country on the planet. The focus is on exercise and healthy eating over dangerous plastic surgery. Cheers, yay, go for it! But...did we have to call it The Biggest Loser? I'm sure some network honcho patted himself on the back for that one. Truly, the best titles encompass two or more meanings. And here the meanings are... The winner of the show loses the most weight. The biggest loser of weight. And the second? Fat people are losers. One of these people is the biggest loser. It makes both the men and the women look bad. It's needlessly cruel. In my opinion, NBC is the biggest loser here, when it comes to that whole karma thing (See what I did there? NBC? My name is Earl? Karma?)

This makes me happy

Seriously, insanely happy. Look at that! Look! Revel in the cuteness of that!

Sometimes there's justice in the world.

Best for Women in Pop Culture

Every once in a while, I feel some damn pride in the world and I feel necessary to share it. With that in mind, I dedicate this puppy to my girls and a few forward-thinking guys too.

And to the suits who call the shots- I'm gunning for you. Where there's a Best Of list, there's a Worst Of not far behind and the list is long and depressing. It needs to be addressed, even if it exists here where only I can see it. I'm thinking of calling it, "Stop treating us like stupid whores."


Queen Latifah's Jenny Craig commercial

Why? Latifah's take on the weight loss-spokeswoman franchise is refreshing- turning it into a pledge to get a little healthier over succumbing to some unrealistic Size 2 For Everyone mantra.

Reese Witherspoon

Why? I will admit that I have a spastic "Reese is on the cover- must have magazine" twitch. I can't help it. I've stopped fighting it. As someone who is consistently wondering why women continue degrade themselves all over pop culture and, separately, why affluent parents have become so frightened of their children as to coddle/spoil/ruin them for the rest of mankind, any time Reese Witherspoon opens her mouth I breath a sigh of relief. She believes in discipline. And manners (she writes thank you notes. C'mon). And she believes women should be portrayed a way that doesn't crucify the whole gender. They should play to their strengths and use their brains. And then she actually goes out and makes movies that prove her point- ahem, we're looking at you Heigl (are you smirking out there that Legally Blonde didn't quite make the list? Maybe you should watch it again. And pay attention this time.)

Reality TV- Amazing Race, How to Look Good Naked

Why? One asks contestants, of both sexes, of all races, size and creed, to use their wits, guile and resolve. Shocking. The other seeks to undo decades of poisonous programming that an imperfect body is a reason to torture yourself until you have to squeeze yours eyes shut in a dressing room or hide under the covers instead of going to a party with your friends. In a week. The results never fail to bring me to tears.

Tina Fey

Why? Say what you will about the first female head writer of notorious boy's club Saturday Night Live- that is a big deal. So is her work on 30 Rock, which just might be the most important sitcom since Seinfeld. So is being named one of 2007's 100 People Who Shape Our World by Time magazine. So is just shrugging it all off and going back to work.

Dove ads

Why? Dove's biggest statement is To make more women feel beautiful everyday. God, it's nice when a company actually walks the talk. It would've been simple to attempt to prove this statement by filling ad space and commercial blocks with the same long-tressed, perfect-skinned, stick-thin, Who Are These Women? models that everyone else uses. Instead, Dove gives us women we actually recognize. And now I use Dove. See how that works, advertising cronies?

The makeup artists/costumer designers of Crime TV- All the Law & Orders, Cold Case, The Closer, and Medium

Sure, you get them all dolled up on the red carpet and they're knock-outs. But on the small screen? They're a little working mom-schlubby (Alison on Medium), they routinely forget to brush their hair (Lily on Cold Case, Brenda on Medium), they ignore or downplay makeup completely and wear clothes that make SENSE for the job (the cops and lawyers on Law & Order). The result? We believe these women are who they say they are (You hear that, Ally McBeal?). And a special bonus to Patricia Arquette for famously turning down the demand that she lose 25 lbs for her role, arguing that she is exactly what a real working mother of three looks like, just as she is.

Ugly Betty

Why? Tell me if you've heard this one. A chubby girl with braces, bushy eyebrows and a Guadalajara poncho walks into a high fashion magazine office and the world at large goes crazy with love and joy. Where have you been all my life, Betty Suarez? I sure could've used you when I myself was a T-shirt-over-the-bathing-suit kind of girl.

The How-To Women of the Food Network (Except you, Sandra Lee. Sorry- there's something about your Stepford Wives persona that I cannot stomach)
Why? Wait. Food is the enemy. How come y'all don't all weigh 110 lbs? How come you're not telling me to stick to my fat-free cream cheese diet? The lesson learned here is more than just how to whip up egg whites. It's about appreciating the blend of creativity and efficiency, savoring all the world has to offer and perfecting the art of making something out of nothing. Things all women thrive at when they give themselves the chance.

Spanglish

Why? Because it's a great movie. Because daughter Bernie is too familiar and just breaks my heart. And it has this passage- "American women, I believe, actually feel the same as Hispanic women about weight. A desire for the comfort of fullness. And when that desire is suppressed for style, and deprivation allowed to rule, dieting, exercising American women become afraid of everything associated with being curvaceous...such as wantonness, lustfulness, sex, food...motherhood. All that is best in life."

Happy Valentine's Day

Ok, yes this is a day late but I took a sick day yesterday (it seemed easier than walking around and growling at everyone all day).

A Valentine gift from my brother. So funny.



It's really Patrick's voice that kills me.

5 Things You Need To Properly Make Fun of The Grammys

1) A halfway decent memory.

2) Validation of your feelings. I like the AV Club because they keep everything short and snappy. Witness this little gem: "Because he lost to Hancock, Kanye West can’t complain about how not getting Album Of The Year was the result of a black man not getting a chance; but anyway, he seemed more than satisfied with his Best Rap Album win, which gave him an opportunity both to show off his new “Mama” fade and pontificate on the state of modern hip-hop—at least until the producers interrupted him with “wrap it up” music, which West quickly put a stop to by playing the My Mom Just Died, Assholes card.

3) An outlet for fashion disaster. MSN.com, Yahoo and Go Fug, of course. Although, why the fug girls haven't yet tackled Alicia Keys (Sausage Outfit 1 and Leggings Catastrophe 2), Aretha (sleeveless? Really?), Stevie Wonder, and Rihanna doing her best imitation of Denise Huxtable circa 1987 is beyond me. At least they got Beyonce and Solange.














4) The comments on this video posted on Youtube. This made me cry too, buddy.



5) Cher.

Grammy Redux

I have many things to say about this year's Grammy's, aka The Big Thigh Convention. (Not that I'm complaining- I'm just surprised I wasn't invited to celebrate)

But, first and foremost, did anyone else think Will I Am's tribute was reminiscent of any time you had to make up a poem about something when you were a kid- like on your dad's birthday or Thanksgiving or something? You'd stand up and read something about the day and, so cute- it rhymes! and everyone would cock their head and smile at how precious you are. Except Will I Am is a "performer" and not 8 years old. Lisa Simpson could've done better than that. Hell, Bart could've done better than that.

The smartest thing I did today...

was find and claim a long-forgotten jar of organic peanut butter in the office kitchen, sneak four Famous Amos chocolate cookies, crumble them in a cup with a tablespoon of peanut butter and nuke the bastard.

The dumbest thing I did today...

was forget my lunch at home. Grrrrrrrrr.

Quickie update...

My first week without gossip smut is going surprisingly well! Thanks to the support of my understanding roommate, whose hesitant questions of "Is E! True Hollywood Story still ok?" made me smile. Honestly, I have no idea. I'm worried about E! altogether. If the purpose is to eschewing the paparazzi, then I'm not sure ANY E! programming is ok. This will be toughest given my love of The Girls Next Door. Does it count if the show stars D list celebrities willing to whore themselves out for reality television?

These are questions I was not prepared to answer. But I will say that I did not touch US Weekly and though I did glance over the headlines at the supermarket checkout, I did not flip through any of them.

Minor hiccup coming soon: Amanda and I were "hair models" at the International Salon and Spa Show in Long Beach this weekend (So much to say. We modeled extensions. Possibly one of the most hilarious situations I've ever found myself in. Although I'm not the one who ended up looking like Jessica Simpson- cough) and among the incredible deals usually only afforded salon and spa owners and cosmotology students (like Bed Head for $4! And new fun stuff like a pair of tweezers with a light attached! We were like kids in a...well, a beauty supply store.) was the publisher deal for magazines. Know how your local hair stylist can afford so many subscriptions? I do. And they were sweet enough to grant me the same deal. As a magazine junkie, let me just say that I blacked out, but when I came to I had six new subscriptions to my name- at such a low price, I almost needed a drink after the paper was signed.

The special bonus to all who signed up? A free subscription to OK! The gossip devil clearly devised this situation to ensnare me. Doesn't mean I have to read it. And I'm not paying for it so I haven't violated my agreement to myself. But still... To quote Michael Corleone from the Godfather marathon over the weekend, "Just when I thought I was out...they pull me back in."

For Michael, Mark, Liz and everyone else

who already knew this...

One of country’s hugest stars, Dolly Parton is also music’s most significant female artist

By Kim Morgan

Whitney Houston may have made the song even more famous, a humongous, record-breaking international hit, but no one, not even the talented Miss Houston, can sing “I Will Always Love You” like Dolly Parton can.

It’s not that Parton’s country soprano is technically the greatest voice in popular music, but there’s just something extra intimate and heartbreaking about her version that makes you feel the words so much more intensely. It’s not surprising, really, since the country music legend wrote the song herself (reportedly about her ex-singing partner and mentor, Porter Wagoner) and the sweet, stripped-down tune clearly means something very personal and private to her. But the song’s massive crossover success is interesting — that this wistful, pretty reflection has made her millions and millions of dollars over the years shows that Parton understands what constitutes a terrific hit song.

But that’s no surprise since Parton (aka “The Iron Butterfly”) knows what she’s doing in both music and business, which has contributed to her monumental success as a female recording artist. With 25 No. 1 singles, 41 Top 10 country albums, loads of awards and nominations, big-screen success as an actress and, yes, a theme park named for her (Dollywood), Parton is beyond mere celebrity — she’s a striking symbol of the American dream.

This slight, big-chested blond woman — born dirt poor in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, the fourth of 12 children — is one of our most prolific songwriters (I’ve read reports stating she’s written over 5,000 songs and released nearly 350) as well as one of the most significant recording artists — ever. But again, Parton’s glory always goes back to her subtly powerful storytelling voice and her beautiful, special songs, including “Jolene,” “The Bargain Store,” “Coat of Many Colors,” “Here You Come Again,” “9 to 5” and (obviously) many, many more, underscoring how little her creative output has to do with her curves, her big personality and her now campy appeal.

Parton is always quick to a quip regarding her glamorous appearance, most famously saying, “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap” — but there’s nothing cheap about the artist. Never mind all the money she’s made over the years, anyone filled with this much talent, smarts, heart and soul is an unforgettable class act.

KIM MORGAN is a film writer who runs the MSN Movies blog and has contributed to many outlets including LA Weekly, Reel.com, The DVD Journal, The Portland Mercury, Salon and The Huffington Post. She was a main film critic for the daily newspaper The Oregonian in Portland and served as DVD critic on TechTV's "The Screen Savers." She has also appeared as a guest film critic on AMC's "Movie Club," E! Television, Reelz, and most recently on “Ebert & Roeper.” You can read her writing at her blog "SunsetGun.com."

Consider this my Dear John letter

Dear Sirs/Madams,

This letter will make no great impact on you but it's a big deal for me.

For years now, I've been a loyal consumer of celebrity gossip. I have the subscription to these types of magazines, I routinely pick up your title at the supermarket and airports, I peruse the popular gossip sites when online, I watch E! news. I gasp and share tidbits with friends about what Britney's done now and that Angelina's adopted another baby. Until this moment, I've eaten it up.

The last few months have proven more and more difficult for me to continue this way. I guess in truth it started back with the consistent coverage of Paris Hilton's arrest. Something about the way the cameras gathered around her cop car, I suppose. I have no love of Paris, her fame baffles and annoys me, but something did not sit right with me about that scene. Or any of the thousands that followed. And then Amy Winehouse. And Britney Spears. Pictures of these people in such acute pain and discomfort. I was watching E! the night of Britney's hospitalization and the feeling in my gut just worsened- watching the media attack that ambulance felt viscerally like a group of vicious animals descend on an injured prey. And now Heath Ledger.

I have the People.com headlines on my Google homepage. That's how much I have fed off this stuff. First, seeing the media display outside his apartment as they wheeled his body out on a stretcher and now the incessant updates, the speculation of his relationships, the paparazzi siege on the mother of his child, the comments by people who undoubtedly had little to do with his real, personal and deeply private life. What's happening now would undoubtedly be Heath Ledger's worst nightmare. It overshadows the legacy he's attempted to leave in his all-too-short life. I can no longer sit by and let his feeling of repulsion grow. Especially when I realized I was the reason for the problem. After all, why would you dish it out at all if I wasn't willing to pay to take it?

So no more People. No more US Weekly. No more E! Or TMZ. Or Perez. This is it, I'm done. It's a small thing and it will make no difference in the way things are until enough people make the same decision and the magazines, television shows, and gossip blogs start seeing it where it really hurts- in the wallet. And when will they- we- hit our limit? When a celebrity's child is hurt or killed? When it drives Britney Spears to suicide? Would that be enough? I don't think it would. Do you?

I've heard all the arguments. This is what the people want. These people have everything, this is the price they pay. It's fun and harmless. It's just a magazine, it's business. Hell, I've made most of those arguments myself. But the time for excuses and laziness is over. I'm sick of feeling sick to my stomach. I don't want to be part of the problem anymore, I don't want to be the reason anymore. Instead, I've decided to get a life. My conscience, my heart and my decency depend on it.

Thank you,
Judi

PS I tried to send this to E!, TMZ, and US Weekly but they don't give out their email addresses. Feel free to forward to whomever you wish. This belongs to them as much as it belongs to you.

The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

January 15, 2008. My last day as a receptionist! And it only took four years.

I can't believe I just wrote that. I may vomit.

For Everyone in the Universe

ROB AND BIG IS BACK!!!



And they think we're in a TV crisis...please.

No Britney-Feeding in '08

It's happened, I've reached my limit. There was a moment over the weekend- I was watching the footage of Britney in the ambulance for the fifth time* and I decided enough is enough.

Specifically, it was the way the photographers were attacking the ambulance... physically ATTACKING it with cameras and I can no longer ignore the ick feeling in my stomach. It's just so...savage. Yes, she's crazy. Message received. And she taunts you and steals lighters in your presence and maybe is dating one of you and that's gross but still. The whole scene was something out of the wild, like watching a pack of thirty hyenas pounce on a wounded billy goat...and then watching the video on Youtube.

So no more. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this will pass, that I'll wake up tomorrow morning Peggy-Sue style to when the biggest scandal was her choosing Wade Robson over Justin Timberlake, which we should all just accept is where this whole hot mess began. I refuse further information. No, People.com, despite what you think, I do not need to see your to-the-minute updates on Dr. Phil's special about Britney and what a source said Jamie Lynn was wearing when she heard the news, etc. etc. I find it repulsive that you have a column of Most Read Headlines and the majority of them consist of brilliant one-liners like "Brit's Dad breaks down!" and "Lynne Prays" and "Kevin lays low." I no longer care to be a party to this. It's making me nauseous.

Besides, all of this attention is taking away from other fantastic headlines I can ignore/laugh at such as "What Jessica Alba thinks of Zac Efron" (omg who cares? WHO CARES?) and Nancy Kerrigan announcing her third pregnancy (see response to Jessica Alba/Zac Efron Non-story and intensify it with secondary response "This is not 1992. So I don't care.")

I might not even read US Weekly this week. Or...not all of it. I'll only read the lame style pages! and reviews no one cares about! (The day I see a movie because US Weekly says it's good is the day I end my own life) and that last page with the bad fashion! And MAYBE Stars They're Just Like Us ("They drop their Netflix!")

I'm only human, people.



* Thank you, E! for the round the clock coverage. As always, I find your commentary on the tenacity and hounding of the paparazzi hilarious, as half your staff is flipping upside down on a cop car to get a good shot.