i pounce

on celebrity gossip with all the delicacy of a rabid elephant, poring over gawker and defamer with glee. and then feel the need to update my very busy friends about the latest escapades of katie holmes and jessica simpson and nick lachey and mel gibson and tori spelling. (paul mccartney? how does someone with 1.5 billion not have a prenup? i don't care how in love you are!) i don't know what they would do without this vital information.

there is something so very wrong about all of this. maybe this is my sole outlet, my only pleasure in an increasingly frightening world, with demagogues posing as policy heads and idiot religious rantings masquerading as discourse.

or maybe i'm just a mean old lady, like the paperboy says.

i googled

my name, whole name, a few days ago and for the first time, there is ANOTHER ME in america! before, i only saw other mes in india. this girl, whoever or where ever she is, has a masters in finance. a me who is good in math. i may have to cut a bitch.

i saw

a shooting star in clear and bright tonight, sitting in a friendly backyard. it came and went in a blink and i didn't make my wish for a few minutes. but i still think it counted.