i'll never let go jack

I am obviously on some sort of airborn crack because somehow I've managed to let two posts get eaten. I disappeared my own drafts. Thrilling, really.

So I've noticed that I have schizophrenic tastes that allow me to hate things with a vicious passion for months/years/whatever and then I wake up and it's like boom! ohmygod all of a sudden I love Avril Lavigne. American Idol. Newlyweds. Beyonce. This week? The Apprentice. I am officially addicted. There has to be some sort of peer counseling or support group for this sort of obsession. First of all, I like to tell myself that I am like so over the whole reality tv thing and I have been since anyone cared about who Darva Conger was. But then there's always something to suck me in. For instance, the Stacy J. - Ivana drama. What was that? I know they were not trying to get Stacy fired. And this isn't just some brown girl solidarity although it may be just a little. But for real, she's a lot more competent than they give her credit for. Ivana, however, is not. And why is that whenever they get a brown girl on reality tv she's crazy? The girl made a phone call to a temp agency and all of a sudden she's a loose cannon? People, get a grip. I need to see some Omarosa style losing it before they can call Stacy J. a loose cannon, okay. And Bradford, you poor, simple bastard. I just want to pet him because I kind of loved him just a little bit.

Titanic was on and I've forgotten why I ever cried watching it the first nine times. Maybe it loses some of the feeling when it cuts to commercial breaks right as the suspense has built to a point. Or maybe I've already heard the Celine Dion song as many times as I can manage before my head implodes. Whatever. I hate this movie now. If I want to watch Kate Winslet in a movie co-starring her breasts, I could watch - I guess I could watch anything else that she's ever been in. Leonardo DiCaprio doesn't ever change. I'm convinced that he's been getting Botox treatments since Growing Pains. Show me that smile again. Oh, your facial muscles are numb.

In other news, I fell in like with a boy who drinks yerba mate from his own mug in coffee shops. If he would just hurry up and fall in love with me, we could get cracking on the mate infused baby making. I want to stalk him Alicia Keys style and hope he doesn't get scurred when I just call him out of the blue with my backup singers in the background. Yes, I said scurred.