More Mystery in Life, Please

Is anyone else a little disappointed that the real Deep Throat has been revealed?

Yep, I Need Help

I went three whole days without a Tom and Katie fix. So here's a round-up of what's going on:

'Happy' Holmes says her love for Cruise is real
Tue May 31, 2005 11:50 AM ET TOKYO (Reuters) - One of Hollywood's hottest couples may be having difficulty persuading the public their romance is genuine, but actress Katie Holmes says her love for screen star Tom Cruise is real."I couldn't be happier. I'm so happy," Holmes said on her way into the world premiere of her latest movie "Batman Begins." "He's the most amazing man in the whole world," she told Reuters in Tokyo on Tuesday.

'SNL' Star Mocks Cruise and Holmes Romance
Saturday Night Live funnywoman Tina Fey mocked Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' high-profile romance in front of a host of celebrities on Wednesday night. The Mean Girls star and scriptwriter and fellow SNL anchor Amy Poehler entertained a-listers Gwyneth Paltrow, Whoopi Goldberg, Jay-X and TV reporter Diane Sawyer at the Robin Hood Foundation's fundraising gala in New York city. Comedienne Fey took the opportunity to mock Cruise's now infamous appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show earlier this month, when the movie hunk baffled viewers by displaying his joy of being "in love" by leaping over furniture and pounding the floor with his fist. At the gala, Fey high-fived Poehler, before thrusting her fist in the air, saying, "I love this woman! This woman is so hot..! She's a woman!" After slapping herself, shouting, "Oh my God, I'm so gay," Fey's star-studded audience burst into laughter, reports gossip site Pagesix.Com.

Cruise Pops Question
May 29, 2005 -- KATIE Holmes is not sporting a ring yet, but she is engaged to Tom Cruise. (from Pagesix.com)

And someone with a little too much time had a little too much fun with the video editor.

On the Nightstand

Really, I should just rename this "On the Pile." Because that's where these books really are. This week, I added to the pile*:

The South Beach Diet by Arthur Agatston
Because I broke out the summer clothes this weekend. Literally.

The 9 Steps to Financial Freedom by Suze Orman
Because as much as I'd like to join a commune and live in a yurt, I have no practical skills. At all. So I'd better learn how to live like a good little capitalist.

Open Heart: Practicing Compassion in Everyday Life by The Dalai Lama
I want to be a good person. I do. If only there weren't so many stupid and annoying people in the world.

Speaking of, while looking for the link to Open Heart, I found that The Dalai Lama has a book called The Art of Happiness at Work, and now I want that one, too.

Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood: An African Childhood by Alexandra Fuller
Should I ever, God forbid, have children, I'm absolutely moving to a remote third-world nation so that they can have something to write about.

The Quilter's Apprentice by Jennifer Chiaverini
I bought it for my mother, but I'm going to read it first.

And because just what I need are more ideas for books to read, Bookslut has started posting summer reading lists.

*In my defense, the first four were bought at Half-Price Books.

Heh

[sic all]

I am Mr. Phillip Centurion an attorney of law and one of the Partners atCenturion-Sec Solicitors based in the United Kingdom representing interest of 10 other solicitors, and has existed over the last ten years I have built a reputable name for my self and my chambers.

At present I am representing Ms. Suha Arafat, the widower of deceased PalestinianLeader (Mr. Yasser Arafat).

I am representing Ms. Suha Arafat who has approached me in complete trust and honesty to source a reliable and trustworthy foreign partner to safeguard her family's assets, which is being stored in a trust fund in Europe, thefunds are totaling USD$100m (Hundred million dollars only).

Suha Arafat has been extremely specific in what she is looking for due to the elevated distress she has already been accustomed to, with the Palestinian authorities and the death of her husband. The foreign partner/Partners will be able to deposit money of such magnitude into a personal, company or any reliable foreign bank accounts without eye brows being raised, for obvious reasons.

Gee, think this is legit?

I've gotten several of this type of e-mail, but this one was special.

Oh Dear Sweet God

According to sources Tom Cruise has asked Katie Holmes to be his third wife and she has accepted. ‘The future Mrs. Cruise III’ is also converting to Tom’s mysterious “religion” Scientology in order to better fit into his world.

Okay, so probably not true. I hope it isn't true. Especially the converting part. But the thought of it just further darkens a not-so-bright day.

Red Alert! Red Alert!

This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Grab your Dawson's Creek DVDs and head for the hills! The Tom and Katie situation has deteriorated quickly:

Tom Cruise has marriage on his mind -- less than a month after going public with his new love, Katie Holmes! Speaking on The Oprah Winfrey Show on May 23, Tom, 42, told Oprah that he intends to talk to 26-year-old Katie about marriage -- "We'll discuss it," he said -- and has already spoken to Katie's parents, lawyer Martin Holmes, and his homemaker wife, Kathy.

If you've already suffered overexposure, stare directly at the sun until you've burned out your retinas. Then assume the fetal position and chant, "Dawson. Pacey. Dawson. Pacey."

Okay, maybe not Pacey.

Weekend Plans

As my regular readers know, Weekend Plans are a recurring Friday feature. And as my regular readers also know, I usually list my weekend plans in all their pathetic truth.

This week, I contemplated a change because I have a new reader. Who happens to be friends with my college boyfriend.* And there are few things that rank as more mortifying than having your college boyfriend know that your life is an empty wasteland of unfulfilled dreams and lonely nights. So I thought about embellishing a bit this week. Making my life seem more exciting than it is. Inventing a few dates, pretending I have friends. I also thought about just dropping Weekend Plans until this particular reader gets bored of All Tom & Katie All the Time.**

But then I thought, What the heck. So my life isn’t exactly how I planned it. But it isn’t entirely pathetic.*** And I need to stop worrying so much about what others think. I am who I am, and I’m starting to be okay with that. Most of the time, anyway. So here it is.****

Friday
Keeping with the brand spankin’ new routine: Yoga and a DVD/magazine binge. I might throw in a short walk with Rowen if weather allows.

Saturday
* Running. Been way too long.
* Taking Rowen to the groomer for a bath, nail clipping, ear cleaning, and tooth brushing.
* Starting Advanced Basic Training with Rowen. I stand by my assertion that she is the perfect puppy, but she could perhaps be a little more perfect.
* Shopping for cute stationary stuff. I’ve been in a bummy mood all week, and the only things that cheer me up more than books are fun paper products and multicolored pens (bonus if the pens are glittery).
* Cleaning Rowen’s crate.
* Cleaning the kitchen. Something’s smelling rather funky.
* Writing. I’m hoping to make this a writing-filled weekend. I have multiple projects in various stages and some due dates coming up.

Sunday
* Swimming. Or possibly the elliptical machine. We’ll see what I feel like.
* Religious services.
* Possibly a post-mass lunch.
* Dog park. Duh.
* More writing.
* Working on the cross-stitch that I started last night (thanks to Mel for the loan of Coldplay). Mind you, I've finished all of three letters and have already messed it up. Oh well.

Monday
A day off work!
* Some form of exercise. Considering either a circuit class or maybe a spinning class. Any opinions?
* More writing.
* Finishing the cross-stitch.
* Some form of activity with Rowen. Depends on the weather. A hike if the temp is cool enough. Otherwise, dog park again.
* General laziness.

* For the record, I broke up with him.
** I give it another week.
*** Okay, maybe it is.
**** I thought about prefacing this with a long, philosophical observation about writing as the act of exposing one’s self and blah blah blah. But I was worried that my regular readers would hurt themselves laughing at the thought of me being philosophical. And I don’t want to hurt my regular readers. The irregular ones? Well, I might want to hurt them a little bit.

Doggies!

Look at this cutie! Now go adopt a dog.

In Austin

Elsewhere

Meanwhile, in other Sith-related news, federal authorities have shut down online file-sharing network Elite Torrents. The network had Star Wars: Episode III--Revenge of the Sith available as a download hours before the film even bowed in U.S. theaters on May 19. Officials for the Justice Department and Department of Homeland Security said users of the site had downloaded Sith more than 10,000 times in its first 24 hours of availibility.*

This is what the Department of Homeland Security is doing? Protecting us against Dark Side downloaders? What, do they think that Bin Laden is a big Darth fan?

Then again, I wouldn't be surprised if they were the ones counting the black squirrels.

Maybe I'd better start learning the lyrics for God Save the Queen.

And maybe the DHS would be better off visiting this site.

*From Sith Fans Maimed in Lightsaber Mishap (yahoo.com)

Thursday News

The good news: The vending machine at work is restocked. Yesterday was a sad, sad day.

The bad news: There are still no peanut M&Ms. In fact, the only empty slot in the whole machine is the slot for the peanut M&Ms. Even the vending machine guy is out to get me.

The best news: My subversive cross-stitch patterns arrived. So I have something to do tonight while I sit in my darkened apartment, listen to my Kasey Chambers CD, and feel sorry for myself.

Pictures are worth a thousand words. So this is 3,000 words on me today.

When Liberal Media Get Bored

Flyger devoted himself to studying squirrels because, as he explains it, they weigh less than a deer and don't bite like a polar bear. He used to smear a tree behind his Silver Spring home with a mixture of peanut butter and Valium and then tattoo the squirrels that he found passed out below.

And you just know that he got government funding for that.

An Exotic Evolution (wpost.com)

Update: My college friend Joe, whom I hear from once a year, gets credit for sending me this item.

Happy now?

Orange Alert

The Tom and Katie situation has reached dangerous new levels. According to Star,

A source says longtime Scientologist Tom took his new love to two Scientology centers in Los Angeles! First, the couple hit H.E.L.P. (Hollywood Education and Literacy Project), a community-based school that teaches studying techniques based on the works of Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard. Later that day, they stopped in at the Scientology's Celebrity Centre International in Hollywood, an imposing, elegant, chateau-style building that houses Scientology-related events, classes and seminars.

Not even Oprah can help Katie now.

Katie: What was I thinking when I agreed to fake-date this freak? I wonder if Josh is still interested . . .

Don't Pet the Cruise

Go Away

Go over to the Bookslut blog. Because they have more interesting things to say.

Tom: Where do you think you're going? We've got a deal.

Katie: No! Stop! This wasn't in the contract. Security! Chris!

Tom: Your "B" is for bland ex can't help you now. There's no escaping the Mothership.

WTF? And I thought I was having a bad wardrobe day.

Katie: This seemed like a good idea at the time. Why didn't anyone warn me? Nicole? Penelope? Can you hear me? Help!

Tom: Tom to the Mothership. I'm bringing her home. Now show me the hit movie.

Oprah: I know it's scary, Katie. Didn't anyone warn you? You just hold on to me, honey. It will all be okay. That boy is as gay as Steadman. But whatever you do, don't let him take you to the Mothership.

Vote!

Because I am incapable of making my own decisions:

Pilates/Yoga OR Eliptical machine

You tell me!

On the Nightstand

That time of the week again:

The Journey from the Center to the Page: Yoga Philosophies and Practices as Muse for Authentic Writing by Jeff Davis
At this point, I'll try anything. If yoga doesn't work, I'm joining a cult.

Azur Like It by Wendy Holden
And this time, I'm actually going to open it.

Bust (June/July 2005)
Why have I never read this magazine before? It's the perfect blend of Ms. and Mademoiselle---for those of us who want to look pretty when we vote.

Granta (89: Factories)
Because I haven't read anything truly depressing in a while and have been inching dangerously close to happiness and joy. I even, almost, for a minute had fun. Reading about the working poor and the evils of globalization should tide me over until I can find another book about genocide or starving children.

Arrived in the mail today: The Plot Against America by Philip Roth and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clark

I think I need to start a lending library in my office.

And can someone tell me why so many novels are subtitled "A Novel"? Do they think that we can't tell?

Monday, Monday

Yeah, just try to get that song out of your head now.

I am just not cut out to be a mother. Having raised a puppy for almost eight months now, I can say unequivocally that I should never be allowed to have a human baby. Any child of mine would be in therapy by the age of 6 months.

Today, I'm in a tizzy because Rowen has an upset tummy. She's been sorta sick since she woke me up at 3 o'clock Thursday morning to go outside. She isn't sick sick---just sorta sick---upset tummy, some vomiting. And I am, of course, freaked. I want to know what is wrong with my puppy and how to make it better. I want my happy, healthy puppy---not this dry-heaving, grass-guzzling sorta sick puppy. I'm also, because I'm incredibly neurotic, constantly second-guessing my decision to take her to the vet this morning. Am I overreacting? Did I wait too long? Is the vet laughing at me because I'm so overprotective of my baby or shaking his head in wonder that anyone would allow as neglectful a person as I to care for a living creature? And how much is this going to cost? That last thought leads me straight to my other favorite emotion: guilt. How can I possibly think about money at a time like this? Rowen's health is worth any amount of money. Did I do the right thing by getting a puppy in the first place? Would she have this problem if I wasn't so selfish as to keep a dog in an apartment? Did I set the thermostat too high and give her heat exhaustion? Did I feed her something bad? Did she get hold of some chocolate that I carelessly dropped? Am I the worst puppy mom ever?!

In other news, I've joined the health club. I finally got a straight answer on cost. I'm still not quite sure how that happened. Did the salesman realize the error of his ways? Was he taken over by a pod person? Did my cunning negotiation skills convince him that I am not a woman to be trifled with? (Okay, probably not that last one.) I'm now committed to the M/W/F/Su plan for at least three months.

Finally, because I can't go a day without it: Tom and Katie. Run, Katie, Run. Tom is a freak.

Weekend Plans

Read the following carefully as the options may have changed.

Friday
A new routine! First getting my zen on in yoga, then gorging on magazines and DVDs. And I’ll absolutely be stopping to restock on magazines. Not that I don’t have a gazillion at home. But none of those have the latest Tom and Katie news.

Saturday
* Making up hours at work. I wish I really could just make up my hours at work. You know, like “Yeah, I was in eight this morning. Didn’t you see me?” and “Oh, yesterday? I worked 10 hours.”
* Dog park. ‘Nuff said.
* Picking up my apartment. Really. No, really. Really.
* Figuring out my bank stuff. Again. Every time I do this, I’m that much more tempted to join a commune and live in a yurt. As long as the commune included a Starbucks and a Barnes & Noble.
* Power reading Don’t Think of An Elephant. Or at least enough of it that I can fake a conversation about it.
* Going to hear Austin’s most awesome singer, Gina Chavez, perform at La Tazza Fresca (7 - 9 pm; corner of Guadalupe and 37th).

Sunday
* Part II of the Health Club Saga. I’ll have a full update on Monday.
* Swimming at the health club.
* A religious activity of some variety.
* Quality time with Rowen.
* Writing. I have some actual potential assignments so I have to do some actual writing.

Woohoo!

It's a Tom and Katie Bonanza today!

More! More! More!

I guess I'm not the only one going through Tom and Katie withdrawl.

Best line: "I've never seen him like this before," says Oprah. "He's gone."

Oh, Oprah, how right you are.

I think it might be time for another intervention.

It's Been Way Too Long

But after nearly a week without any news, we have a Tom and Katie update.

It's Back!

The New York Post has resurrected it's registration requirement. So . . . The Create Your Own Page Six Game is back.

Finish these ledes:

Lindsay Lohan was asked not to attend Monday night's Absolut Apeach party at Koi — and not because ex-boyfriend Wilmer Valderrama was there with Ashton Kutcher...

"PRINCESS Diaries" hottie Anne Hathaway is being sued by a Bahamian real estate broker, James Dingman, who claims he was never paid for a house she rented for $18...

Happy Thursday

In a departure from my normal bitter snarking, here's a list of things that are making me happy today:

* My storytime kids, especially the one who told me that my hair was pretty today. Even though it's far from true; my attempt at a pretty style went awry and I look like a post-tryst Princess Leia. She's from some movie, you know.
* The Starbucks Guy, with whom I had a drive-through conversation yesterday. He remembered me from Saturday. Yay!
* Happy pills!
* Tiny Ninja Theater.
* My puppy. Even if she does get me up at four o'clock in the morning to take her outside.
* Ted Casablanca and The Awful Truth. Even if I never can figure out the Blind Vices (Lindsay, perhaps?).
* Writing in the mornings. I'm on Page 4!
* Coming in late. Leaving early.
* The anticipation of lunch at Dog Almighty.
* People who engage in bitter snarking so I don't have to.

Well, It's Wednesday

And I got a whole lot of nothing to say. Well, nothing that's family friendly and that wouldn't get me fired for posting it. Smeagol has struck again.

So amuse yourself with the only couple that gives me more icks than Tom and Katie.

Preggers: The Life of Britney Spears

Chaotic Drinking Game

Don't worry. I won't judge. Because if I had a television, you know I'd be watching.

Wha? Is he grabbing her ovaries? Or can't he reach her waist? Dirty midget pimp is harvesting her eggs for cult clones!

Who thought these would look good anywhere besides the Colosseum circa 2000 B.C.?

Best. Picture. Ever.

If I had a kid, it would totally have this t-shirt. Which is yet another reason why I should not have kids.

I'm a dork, too.

Michael Schaub of Bookslut points to an article on a mondegreen in a Coke commercial.

I'm a little bit in love with Michael Schaub.

On the Nightstand

I feel like I should clarify something here. Each week, I list what I'm reading. And the list changes each week, which gives the appearance that I'm actually finishing the books and magazines that I had listed the week before.

This is not true.

See, I suffer from AD/BA---attention-deficit/book addiction. In any given week, I'll start 2-3 books and leaf through several magazines. I rarely actually finish any of them in that same week. Rather, I'll pick up and put down those same books and magazines many times over the course of months and years. Some, I'll eventually give up on, others will get finished, and others will be cycled through endlessly. This condition is aggravated by my severe OCBB (obsessive-compulsive book buying). I can't help it. I'm a very sick woman with a credit card.

For this week, I have lined up the following:

Azur Like It by Wendy Holden
Campy British chick-lit with a punny title. And I'm not even ashamed of myself.

Don't Think of An Elephant! by George Lakoff
A semantic political debate? Don't have to ask me twice!

Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton
Still reading this one. Still liking it. Still overidentifying. Still wanting to call the author Alain de Bottom because it makes me laugh.

Adbusters (May/June 2005)
I really want to hate big corporations. I want to free myself from brand identities. As long as I can still go to Starbucks, drink Coca Cola, shop at Target, and wear L.L. Bean.

The Paris Review (Spring 2005)
Philip Gourevitch wasn't on board yet for this one. But he will be there soon. Yippee! And there's an awesome interview with Shirley Hazzard. If I ever (God-forbid) have children, I won't let them watch television until they are 21 (and I'll pray that they never see this sentence).

I Give Up

Update: So I stopped by Starbucks on my way into work on Saturday morning, looking very bedraggled---greasy hair in a bun, dirty t-shirt, minimal makeup---and, of course, Starbucks Guy is manning the drive-through window. And, of course, he's all sorts of conversational when I look like crap. What's the deal?


That's it. I give up. I give in. I accept my future as a spinster. I'm just going to join a knitting group (okay, I was going to do that anyway), volunteer at the library (well, ditto), and get a half dozen cats (yeah, not a chance).

I. Give. Up.

I look supercute today, and Starbucks Guy didn't even notice!

What's the deal?

Weekend Plans

So I’m thinking about joining a health club. My fat jeans are getting tight and my favorite supercute tops make me look like a sausage roll as packed by Lucy Ricardo.

I started the search with some phone calls. Except no one wants to give you any information over the phone. Because they know that while you are safely tucked in your home or office, you are still capable of basic arithmetic and common sense and will be able to figure out that you can accomplish the same end with a pair of running shoes and a Rodney Yee video (yummy!). Total annual cost: $200 or thereabouts (provided you actually use the running shoes and thus need to replace them every six months; less if you just sit on the couch and just watch Rodney).

After failing to get any useful information over the phone, I set up an appointment at a health club to get a tour and talk about “my needs.” My needs are fairly simple. I need to get a simple, straight answer about how much this will cost. I also need to try out the facilities before committing my grandchildren’s retirement funds.

Joining a health club is as difficult as buying a car---and nearly as expensive. First, I talk to the salesman. He uses every trick: flipping through the price book too quickly for me to read anything, speaking at a breakneck pace, throwing numbers around to confuse me, trying to swap one fee for another---the other being much higher---yet somehow I’m “saving” money that way. He even tried the superslick bonding---asking me what I thought of the Pope when it came out that I’m Catholic. But having been burned by salesmen before, I wasn’t falling for it. I wanted a simple, straight answer and a trial membership.

So he called his manager. Who then flipped through the same price book at the same too-much-Red Bull pace while talking about plans. There’s the One Club plan, the All Clubs plan, the Every Other Day plan, the Other Every Other Day plan, the Family plan. I’m certain there’s a Blonde with a Double-D Cup plan, but, then again, if I qualified for that, I wouldn’t need to go to the gym. The manager juggled numbers again, although by that time, I had lost all ability to add double digits and couldn’t remember if I was a single girl who wanted to work out on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays or a retired mother of four who wanted to work out on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

But, of course, I had to decide RIGHT THEN if I wanted the super special, never again offered discount price (you know, the price that they offer every week).

In the end, I never got my simple, straight answer. But I did get my trial membership. Which leads to my weekend plans.

Friday
One guess what I’m doing on a Friday night.

Nope! Wrong! Thanks to my brand-spankin’ new trial membership, I’m going to a yoga class. Then, I’ll, well, erm, yeah, you know---DVDs and magazines. And knitting.

Saturday
* Making up hours at work.
* Dog park, if the weather is okay. Forecast is for thunderstorms.
* Cleaning the apartment. Or at least taking out the trash. ‘Tis stinky.
* A movie matinee if the weather is lousy. Still haven’t seen Crash or Kung Fu Hustle. And now Layer Cake and Mad Hot Ballroom are out, too.
* Overidentifying with Status Anxiety.

Sunday
* Swimming at the health club pool and praying that no one else is around to see me in a bathing suit.
* More praying. You know, at mass.
* Possible trip to a craft store for yarn. I’m working on a tank top and can’t decide if the yarn I have is pretty or makes me look like an Easter egg.
* Hitting a trail with the puppy. Again, weather dependent.
* Surreptitiously reading the gossip magazines at Barnes & Noble while sipping a chai and nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.

The Entertainment Guide You Really Need

Consider this $80 saved (you know, if like me, you sneak in your own snacks; if you don't, well, you're just the type of fool to waste money on really bad movies).

Fametracker's 10 Least Essential Summer Films

Who wants to bet on how many of these same films get Entertainment Weekly covers? I'm calling 7.

Better gambling: How many get EW covers one week and slammed in EW's reviews the very next week? Gotta love it when they don't even try to disguise their crass commercialism.

I Need Help

Serious, professional help. And probably heavy medication.

But I don't need the help nearly so much as Katie Holmes. Run, run away. Fast.

Thursdays

Thursdays are great days. Because there's only Friday left in the week. And because we can read The Awful Truth on E! Online.

I won't be posting much today because I need to work on my much-neglected other blog, The Least.

Kick Ass Arts & Crafts

So this artist Cat Mazza wanted to protest the exploitation of workers in sweatshops. So she came up with this wicked cool idea: to knit corporate logos as a way to stand in solidarity with those workers. She and her fellow protesters formed this thing called microRevolt, and they are putting together a knitted banner with the Nike logo to deliver to Nike headquarters.

They need people to contribute border pieces as part of their collective petition. Any style knit or crochet, any gauge, any color. As long as it forms a 4" x 4" square. What a great way to use up your left over bits of yarn.

See their Web site.

And visit Subversive Cross-stitch. Just because it is a hoot.

More Tom and Katie

Is it a day that ends in "y"? Then it's a day for a Tom and Katie update.

Yeah, I know it's kind of a lame one, but their publicists are still huddled, trying to figure out how to match the Rome love fest and explain what happened to pretty Katie.

A Little Love

I don't think I've mentioned lately how much I love Jennifer Weiner.

Or how insanely jealous I am of those McSweeney's kids.

Of course, you all know by now of my crush on Marc Blucas.

Okay. Enough happy thoughts. Back to work.

Cranky Wednesday

Not even my adorable little storytime kids could make this morning okay. Here are the things that are annoying me:

* Micromanaging.
* People who don't understand that when I send something to them for comment, the only comments I want are "great," "nothing to add," and "perfect."
* Starbucks Guy, who was less friendly than usual, even though, as previously mentioned, I looked so cute this morning.
* That my dog doesn't look even a little sad when I leave her at daycare.
* That there isn't a size between a grande and a venti. Because a grande is never enough but a venti is just a little too much.
* Mexican smoke. And, no, I don't mean the good kind. Not that I have any knowledge of that.
* Weather forecasters. I want a job where I can be wrong more than half the time and not be fired. Oh wait, I have that. Nevermind.
* Optimistic horoscopes. Really, I would rather it just say, "Your life sucks. Go back to bed." Instead it gives me all this false hope about being "stylish, graceful, and effective" and finding a way to turn that into money. Whatever.
* Bloggers. Yeah, I'm all about the self-hate today. And the petty jealousy.

My name is Tendafoot, and I could power a small city with my whining.

Obsessed, I Tell You

I wasn't going to post today, because, well, I have nothing to share. But I couldn't resist a daily fix of Tom and Katie.

Which is still weirder than Renee and Kenny.

I Suck

I suck at my job.

I suck at anything to do with money.

I suck at writing.

I suck at running.

I suck at any sort of encounter with the opposite sex.

I suck at being a dog mom.

I suck at yoga.

I suck at cooking and baking and anything that happens in the kitchen.

I suck at life.

And I totally forgot my happy pills this morning.

On the Nightstand

Thanks go to Steve for this week's reads.

Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton
Steve barely knows me, yet somehow he picked the perfect book to lend me.

The Culture of Fear: Why Americans Are Afraid of the Wrong Things by Barry Glassner
Because if I'm going to be up all night working myself into a crazy panic, I might as well be panicking about the right things.

A Girl's Best Friend by Elizabeth Young
I'm only 10 pages into it and I'm already not liking it. But maybe reading it will spur me to finish my own novel, because it can't be worse than this.

Vanity Fair, June 2005
I don't get the cult adoration of Angelina Jolie.

Ode, May 2005
Big, long article on buying local food. And excellent, shorter article on how quantum physics relates to our perceptions of reality---written in a way that I actually understand that statement.

Bust, April/May 2005
Amy Sedaris is so cute! And there's an article about Sweet Valley High.

Weekend Plans---Sort Of

Most weekends, my plans are sparse, but I usually can fill out this list just enough to be able to say, “Well, it could be worse.” Not so much this week. As Strong Sad would say, “I mostly sit in my room and listen to music and write and talk to walls or trees.”

Friday
Do I really need to say it? Magazines and DVDs. On the weekend viewing list are Firefly (disc 1), Lost Boys of Sudan, and The Corporation. I may also swing by the video store for Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 1 (disc 3) to remind myself how cool and cute Buffy, Willow, and Xander were before they became anorexic, famous, and alcoholic.

Saturday
Really just an extension of Friday, with a trip to the dog park thrown in.

Sunday
See Saturday and add a religious service. If the rain predictions come true, I may see a matinee of either Kung Fu Hustle or Crash. Or I may not.

“Oh, Li’l Brudder, I don’t know what I’m doing with my life!”

Daily Dose of Tom and Katie

I just can't get enough of this.

But can someone tell me why it is that when Katie twists her hair into a simple bun, it looks elegant and stylish but when I do the same it looks like I haven't showered in a week and don't own any mirrors. Why is that?

Pretty on the Outside

I don't have much to offer today, because I've been keeping busy. Among today's activities:

* Swishing and flipping my hair to show off its post-cut glory
* Griping about how busy and overwhelmed I am while simultaneously avoiding all work
* Desperately searching the Internet for updates on Tom and Katie
* Mentally debating whether to attend tonight's meeting of the Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty or stay home (full disclosure: the factor weighing most heavily in my going is the opportunity for public swishing of my new haircut)
* Trying to solve the blind riddles from Ted Casablanca and Page Six (which has temporarily given up on the registration thing)
* Eating

Check in tomorrow when my hair has gone flat and I've given up on pretending to work.

Tom & Katie Sitting in a Tree

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

But dear lord. This is what happens when you kiss dirty midget pimps.

Confession

Forgive me, for I have sinned. I've broken two of the cardinal rules.

Rule #1: Never go to Wholefoods when you are hungry.

Rule #2: Never go to Sephora when you are depressed.

Because I needed that overpriced smoked salmon spread and a half-gallon of organic white vinegar about as much as I needed a $25 Chanel lip gloss (although, in my defense, the salmon spread was yummy and the lip gloss shade is called "Giggle").

Create Your Own Page Six

As we continue to offer our sacrifices to the gods of Web site registration, we offer up Day 2 of Create Your Own Page Six. Finish the following story:

"IS the success of "Desperate Housewives" creating a monster? Eva Longoria ticked off a gaggle of publicists working the 7th Annual Young Hollywood awards with her uppity attitude. Spies report the diva was frantically . . . "

Yep, Still Obsessed

I believe it was Conrad who termed such things the fascination of the abombination.

Fun & Games with Page Six

Some are frustrated at the New York Post's new registration requirement, which blocks the masses from reading Page Six online.

I, however, in a rare moment of lemonade-making optimism, prefer to see it as an opportunity to use our own creativity in a world where truth usually is stranger than fiction. So I'm introducing "Choose Your Own Page Six," in which the reader writes the ending to the Page Six teaser.

For example,
"BAI Ling was cut out of "Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith" after it was announced that she was posing nude in Playboy, the disappointed actress claims.
The sexy..."

. . . fugster was told that George Lucas had a strict ethics policy for his Stars Wars cast. Coked-up intergalatic incest: Okay. Nudity: Not okay.

Now your turn! Complete the following Page Six story:
"PARIS Hilton once lost her chihuahua when she forgot she'd left little Tinkerbell with her grandmother. Now, the Hilton heir-head has "misplaced" a laptop computer crammed..."

Have Fun!

(For those of you who prefer to read the actual Page Six stories, go to bugmenot.com to bypass the registration.)

Bragging

Just a little.

See my letter to the editor in the Austin-American Statesman on the Senate's "nuclear option" to force through jucidial nominees.

Hee

Katie and Tom.

Yes, I'm obsessed. But there's hope.

On the Nightstand

The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing
One of those books that I feel like I *should* read.

A Problem From Hell: America and the Age of Genocide by Samantha Power
Yes, again. But this time I'm really, really going to read it.

The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp
Perhaps if I read about it, I'll start doing it.

Runner's World, May 2005 issue
Ditto.

Breaking Up

That's it. I've had it. I'm breaking up with 24. And this time, I mean it! No more will I let clever cliffhangers woo me into yet another disappointing episode. It's over.

I'm tired of the martyrdom of Jack Bauer, as if he is the only person in the whole country who is loyal to the president and able to save the day.

I'm tired of lazy casting directors who can't even bother trying to cast families that look a little like they might be related. The casting of the Palmer family is particularly bad. Here's a clue: Not all black people look alike.

I'm tired of lazy writers who can't bother trying to get the little details right. So the drug kingpins could afford to genetically engineer a virus and build a fancy containment room, but they couldn't spring for the decontamination shower so they use a fire hose instead? Wha? A building is bombed in downtown Los Angeles, and no one notices? Huh?

I'm tired of Kim Bauer. She is the most stupid, annoying person on the planet. Really. If she were any more self-centered, I fear she would actually change the earth's rotation. And really, if she died, it would just be Darwinian. Yet, somehow, if the timeline of the story is to be believed, she managed to skip at least a year---possibly two---of high school, finished college in three years, and got a highly coveted analyst job at CTU. Huh?

I'm tired of President Palmer making Bush II look competent. Palmer is possibly the second most stupid person on the planet. I keep waiting for him to ask someone what POTUS stands for.

I'm tired of the black-and-white view of good and evil. The good guys are all good. The bad guys are all bad. In the world of 24, grey only exists in Jack's wardrobe.

So it's over. I'm done. No more. Don't bring me cliffhanger bouquets and promises of change. It's always the same. I'll stick with The Wire.