2002-11-13

Hypnotic caboose

So J.Lo's due to break the Big News� � regarding her impending nuptials with Ben Affleck � tonight, and I just couldn't be more thrilled for the both of them. Seriously. In an unstable world, J.Lo is simply doing her duty as an American to keep the rest of us Americans distracted, exercising her inalienable right as a celebrity to assume that this, her third marriage in five years, is important.

And, heck, it is important to people like me, because mentally filing all of this crap away is what I do....I never know when I'm going to have to vomit it all back up, either here or during a particularly heated game of Trivial Pursuit. I mean, it's my thing, isn't it, chickens? It's expected of me. This is the cross I must bear, and bear it I do, cheerfully.

I could've been a dry academic type, and really tried to wedge my square-assed self into that round hole. I really did try, the end results being an MFA that I'm still paying off, and an ability to quote obscure playwrights, at the drop of the proverbial hat, in largely unimpressed groups of friends. I have no regrets about this, but since embarking on this journal project three years ago, I've come to the conclusion that I don't need to apologize for the vast warehouse of Otherwise Useless Information that my brain has become.

Dollars to donuts, it's simply way more fun for me to chat with Paula about why the bridge to "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" kicks ass, than to sit around discussing Weimar-era cabaret or what-have-you. There are plenty of people who do just that, and you know, God bless �em.

Put it to you this way: should I be lucky enough to live a nice, long life, and to have more or less all of my marbles at the end, what am I going to remember with more fondness � the afternoon I spent defending my Master's thesis, or the night Dexter and I covered Eric's front yard with Little Debbie snack cakes?

So, yeah, J.Lo and Ben. I gotta say, it's terribly funny to watch people with insane amounts of expendable cash behaving like oversexed barflies. J.Lo's like this glistening, exotic honker of a semi-precious gemstone, shimmying around in her unmentionables, stupefying her suitors with her hypnotic caboose. And poor Cris Judd. Hadn't even been married to her for a year; he's like the Debbie Reynolds of the 21st century...

lisamcc at 11:43 a.m.

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