TODAY, I FEEL . . .

Serious: Tomorrow, Annika Sorenstam plays with the boys. She will become the first woman in 58 years --since Babe Didrikson Zaharias, in 1945 -- to play in a PGA tournament. The Bank of America Colonial is an invitational tournament, and this year, they invited Sorenstam to take one of the 12 sponsor exemptions. Vijay Singh, the most outspoken opponent to having Sorenstam play in the Colonial, has said that if he was partnered with her, he wouldn't play, and that "I don't want to have a woman beat me." Well, that probably won't happen, because Singh won't be playing in the Colonial -- he's tired from playing four straight tournaments and says "I need a break." (Singh also said the PGA is "a man's tour" -- apparently, he doesn't know that the PGA has no gender rules.) Nick Price said that Sorenstam's participation in the Colonial "reeks of publicity" but admires her courage anyway. The two rookies who got picked to partner with Sorenstam during the first two rounds, Dean Wilson and Aaron Barber, are excited to play with her and wish her the best. When asked if he was afraid Sorenstam would beat him, Barber replied that "they make her sound like she is an inferior player. I think her skills are very good, and they stack up really good on this golf course." When asked if he felt pressure to beat Sorenstam, Wilson replied, "If she plays well and I play bad, anybody can beat me when I play bad." As for Sorenstam, she says she just came to the Colonial to test herself and "didn't think everybody else wanted to test me at the same time." My Two Cents: Golfers use bad grammar. Singh is a pissy-pants. Sorenstam should've known her appearance at Colonial would cause the frenzy it has -- it's the American way to make mountains out of gender, racial, sexual, religious molehills, and the golf arena is no different. She will probably also get her ass kicked, because despite her impressive record so far and her genius at the sport, she is a woman and most likely doesn't have the strength that her male counterparts do. When you can't get the ball on the green, well . . . And finally, I don't think it takes "courage" to play at Colonial -- it takes an invitation. Ugh, it's just GOLF.

Sad and Let-Down: UPN aired the very last episode of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer yesterday evening. Angel came back and tried to bust another move on Buffy; she effectively shut him down and he went back to L.A. to film the next season of Angel. Buffy killed Caleb by slicing him in half, starting at the balls and swinging up (ouch). Dawn realized what a tongue-stud could do to enhance a lesbian relationship. Spike and Buffy shared a moment. Xander made an inappropriate one-eye joke. Spike was HOT, as always. Andrew was HILARIOUS, as always. Anya died. The others made their getaway in a school bus. All the Slayerettes around the world became full-blown Slayers, including a little girl playing Little League -- that was weird. Sunnydale is gone, sunken into a huge crater formerly known as The Hellmouth (but don't dismay -- there is another one in Cleveland). My Two Cents: I wish I was Buffy when she and Spike were sharing a moment. Eliza Dushku overacts everything and it's annoying. I just can't see her as the nice little girl from "Bring It On" anymore. I want Andrew (the character, not the actor) to come and live with me and entertain me non-stop. All that laughing would tighten my abs, too. I hope Spike comes back as his sexy, naughty, sarcastic self when he appears on Angel. But otherwise, the series finale SUCKED.

Rude and Crude: FannyPack, a girl-group from Brooklyn, has hit the big time with a song entitled "Cameltoe." In daily rotation on Z100's Z-Morning Zoo (among other stations), the song describes and denounces the Camel Toe, the unfortunate phenomenon of the frontal wedgie suffered by women who wear too-tight pants. The unfortunately-catchy chorus:
Mm-hmm, that's right
Uh-oh, oh no!
Fix yourself, girl
You got a cameltoe!
My Two Cents: This song grosses me out, but like any other gross thing, I can't help but sing along, laugh out loud, and generally enjoy it. I know what they're talking about (not from personal experience, I hope), and I just think it's so bizarre they wrote a song about it. I suppose it's not unlike "Baby Got Back." Thank you, Sir Mix-A-Lot, for that gem. I personally most enjoy the admonition "Fix yourself, girl."

Slightly Grumpy: There is one person in my life who regularly gives me agita. He is a boy. Actually, he is almost 30 years old, but is nonetheless boy-like. Boy likes to hear himself talk. Boy thinks he is God's gift to the world and all things in it. Boy has been brought up to think that he is da bomb. Boy is pompous and arrogant, grating, annoying, harsh, socially inept, a know-it-all who is often wrong, sour, talks too much, pessimistic, and generally unpleasant to be around in all ways. Boy thinks he can be my best friend because of some small commonalities in our background. Boy is flippant towards people and insensitive to their feelings. Boy claims not to be snobbish, but says there are people in our group of friends who are not worthy of being friends with him. Boy asks you questions, not to hear what you have to say, but to argue with you. After arguing with you and causing you to become very agitated, Boy backs off and says "Oh, I don't really believe everything I just said; I just wanted to see what YOU would say." Boy is a waste of time. And despite all this, Boy manages to be hyper-sensitive about not being included in events, being included in events, people liking him, people not liking him, people paying attention to him and heeding his words, and his own self-image. Unfortunately, Boy is also dating a friend of mine, so I can't really avoid seeing his sour self on a regular basis. I would really like Boy to become a man, like every other over-25-year-old man I enjoy being friends with, so that I don't have to be Super-Bitch everytime he comes near. Being Super-Bitch is exhausting and I resent Boy exhausting me.