Quote of the Day

From my shiny new Us Weekly, in which Heidi "Deep Thinker" Montag explains her "revenge" breast augmention and nose job:

"But surgery is a very big deal. Right before I went in, I was like, What if I don't wake up? Oh, this is scary. Then I thought, I don't care. If I don't wake up, it's worth it."

It's worth it because...at least you'll have big boobs in your coffin? Explain this reasoning to me.

Really? A deer?!?

Well, I'm glad I've got Gossip Girl, because Grey's Anatomy is clearly going downhill fast. Anyone else watch the premiere tonight? I was hoping it might have just been Addison and Dr. Burke bringing the entire cast down, but I don't think that's the case at all. This wasn't just bad; it was Private Practice bad. As one of my viewing companions noted tonight, Issiah Washington might have made the best move of all-- he got out. I mean, yeah, he was forced out, but at least he didn't have to stick around and watch Katherine Heigl (whom I am inclined to see as severely overrated in terms of acting skills...prove me wrong, Katherine! Prove me wrong!), aka Izzie Stevens, spend the entire episode bringing a deer back to life. Geez.

Spotted, in her bedroom: A. returning to her blog, ashamed that she ever let it go for so long...

We knew it had to happen sometime. I keep trying to be all serious and work on poetry and papers, but like a moth to the flame, the pale coin called me back. I'm sure you're wondering exactly which piece of gossip was so good that I just had to report it. I myself, in this little hiatus, have been wondering, "Hmmm, I wonder what it will be. What will be SO juicy, SO amazing, that I will HAVE to turn my eyes away from "greater" academic endeavors and report back to the coin." Well my friends, the answer is not in fact a single piece of gossip, but rather an entire broadcasting of it: S and B. Lonely Boy. GOSSIP GIRL.

Okay, when I first learned about this series, I'll admit, I was excited about it only in the muted, half-hearted way I was excited about, say, "Palmetto Pointe," and "Summerland" and even "Central Park West." These shows all promise to be the next 90210 or OC, and inevitably disappoint. Oh no, I wasn't getting my hopes up about Gossip Girl. I vowed that I would stay strong. But as the advertisements got longer and more revealing, my resolve weakened. With each preview, with each playing of Fergie's G.L.A.M...well, you know the rest. Anyway, I began to get more and more excited, until by the time the actual premier came, I WAS PUMPED (certain people can attest to this). And lo and behold, Gossip Girl did not let me down.

The second episode aired last night, and I'll say this: I'm still enamored. If 90210, the O.C., and Cruel Intentions all had a freakly little love child (much as, some are speculating, Serena did last year in "boarding school"), this would be it. Even the names are amazing; get a little bit of this: Serena van der Woodsen. Blair Waldorf. Nate Archiblaid. It's as if they took all of the names of the 19th century tycoons and put them through anagram software. The dialogue, too, is all I could expect and much, much more. Upon being told that Serena is back in town, Chuck, resident Upper East side bad guy, swirls his scotch and declares with the perfect mix of bordeom and disdain, "Good...it was beginning to get a bit dull around here." Mind you, he is all of sixteen. Ah, Gossip Girl.

Now that I've made clear my immediate love for this show, here's the beef: exactly how much can creator Josh Schwartz rip off from his other baby, The OC, before people start to get a little miffed? Cause I'm telling you, once you notice it, you REALLY notice it. There's the expression of conflicted teen angst that Serena assumes about every five minutes, like when she tells Nate "I didn't come back for you!" This expression is Marissa Cooper, through and through. Furrowed brow. Slight parting of the lips. Shaking that perfect head of blonde hair. Hey, Mischa, don't worry; they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Also eerily OC: the Kirsten and Sandy Cohen look-alike parents (at least they're not married, although it's clear we can expect a hook-up sometime soon). The witty geek a la Seth Cohen (I bet Dan owns a lot of Death Cab for Cutie...). Even the Rooney playing in the background, because nothing says Upper East side brunch like Rooney.

None of this is changing my love for the GG, of course. I'm just saying, I think it can stand on its own...it needs no help from the OC, which got pretty bad after the first two seasons anyway. Mr. Schwartz needs to allow GG a chance to get away from its older sibling, a chance to come into its own. After all, everyone knows the second child is usually the cooler one.

I'm ba-aaaack

It's been a long few weeks, and what with the move and the trip to the lovely Pacific Northwest, my blog postings were definitely sacrificed. I played around with the idea of putting the blog on permanent hiatus until next summer, as much of my time and effort needs to be going into my MFA thesis this year, and not so much whether Kate Hudson is making a huge mistake by allowing her son to ride on the shoulders of Dax Shephard. Then I laughed. OF COURSE I need to occupy my time with celebrity news! Anyway, I'm going to try for a while. The posts may be fewer and farther between, but they'll be coming.


Anyway, looks like I returned to the blogosphere just in time. Jenna Bush is either fat or pregnant (props to Ben for that link...). The Hills' new season is off to a fantastic, Heidi vs. Lauren, yes, you have to pick a side, and how on earth could anyone be on Heidi's side, she dates such a skeeze ball, start. And, perhaps most important to me, as a poet, the lovely Victoria Beckham has decided to try her ginormous-ring studded hand at writing again, after the smash success of 2005's Learning to Fly: The Autobiography.

Now, I have no real problem with this. I agree that Posh exudes a certain kind of admirable confidence, despite doing, as far as I can tell, very close to nothing career-wise (post-Spice World, of course). And she definitely has a style all her own. It's just that, when one mentions "style," I can't help but think of a little bit more than just fashion, and when it comes to lifestyle choices, I really don't see myself wanting to take advice from somone who has what appear to be hard-as-rocks cantaloupe breasts, wears size negative-zero leather pants, names her child Romeo, and, perhaps most tellingly, counts the Cruise clan as dear friends. But that's just me.

Still, it got me thinking about which contemporary celebrities I'd actually like to see write a style guide, and here's a few that came to mind:

1. Cate Blanchett
2. Aerin Lauder
3. Claire Danes
4. Kate Winslet
5. Giada DeLaurentis
6. Natalie Portman
7. Charlotte Gainsbourg
8. Thandie Newton
9. Amanda Peet
10. Britney Spears

Of course, there are plenty of others, but I think each of these women could offer some serious advice on personal style. Advice that goes further than "I dress sexily - but not in an obvious way. Sexy in a virginal way." Oh, Posh...nothing about you is virignal. That's why we love you.

But What About the Surfer Receptionist?

In the first of hopefully many steps geared towards slowing down Private Practice's one-way trip to Suckville, USA, show creator Shonda Rhimes has said of the god-awful talking elevator, "I don't know if it will be back." She also made the astute observation that George and Izzy may not be the love story of the century. Wha??!? Read more about what she had to say during the press tour here.

I Am My Mother's Daughter

Sorry I've been slow on the posting lately; the big move is coming along slowly but surely. My parents rolled into town last weekend and I was talking about the blog a bit, so my mother checked it out on Tuesday when they got back down to good ol' Louisiana. Upon reading the Tori Spelling post, my mother proved herself to be nothing short of genius when she e-mailed me with this suggestion:

"with Dylan now on the John From Cincinnati HBO show he might be too busy to do the wedding, but I think Brandon might be a good alternative (and maybe they could get David to do the music that he's so good at)."

Now do you see where I get it from?

How could I forget about David's short-lived but glorious music career (yes, I'm using that term loosely)? "You're So Precious to Me (Am I Precious to You)" was nothing short of musical genius. I searched for it on Youtube, but alas, the closest thing I found was this. In all fairness, I think it still captures the wonder that was 19 year-old Brian Austin Green.

Somewhere Betsy Ross is Crying

A long, long time ago, when I was but a freshman in high school, I attended my first 'senior party.' I don't remember much from it except that I drank too many strawberry wine coolers and got sick in the bushes (how high school freshman girl cliche is that?), and that another girl, also a freshman, showed up wearing nothing but a confederate flag bikini, thus enforcing every Southern white trash stereotype ever. I think there was a pool, but I wouldn't swear on it. This girl's name was Courtney Cox, and she would return to the confederate flag motif for her senior pictures page in the yearbook, which included a glamour shot of her wearing a shiny silver bustier, pressed up against a trailer, as well as a shot of her wrapped in a confederate flag. Don't ask me how these pictures were even allowed to make their way into the yearbook. It still baffles me.

Anywho, that was the trashiest use I've ever seen of the "flag" bikini that was so popular in the nineties. But this runs a close second.