GUILTY PLEASURES . . .

Watching "American Idol" and being so ridiculously happy that the contestants are singing (well, and not so well, unfortunately) some of my secret (now, not-so-secret) favorites, some of my guilty-pleasure pop songs: "Let's Hear It For the Boy," by Denise Williams; "Love is a Battlefield," by Pat Benatar; and "Bohemian Rhapsody," by Queen.

I'm stupidly giddy right now.

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TELL IT, SISTER . . .

"To live is so startling, it leaves little time for anything else."

-- Emily Dickinson

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THE APOCALYPSE . . .

Britney Spears is pregnant.
My God, she's spawning.

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SHE CAN'T BE . . .

Is Paula Abdul drunk? Did she just slur her speech? Did she just scream and start jumping up and down? Did she almost fall out of her chair trying to sit back down?

Oh, Lord. She's wasted.