November 9, 1997
You may have noticed that there are two columns this week instead of the usual one. Thanks to the graciousness of the Monkey-Thonís editorial staff, this is permitted exactly once per year. Back on track, and catching up Ė here we go!
Well, things as a "tabloid stalkerazzi" are progressing nicely. I actually had a story affected this week by a tantrum thrown by big-shot Rosie OíDonnell. Yes! She was unhappy with a story EXTRA did on Tuesday, and the word came down: Take her out of the piece I was working on for Thursdayís show. Only problem: My piece was about a woman who had challenged Rosie to a "Mary Tyler Moore Show" trivia contest. Rosie had been plugging the contest for several days, and I had a number of clips I was counting on for my piece. How could I take Rosie out of the Rosie trivia challenge story? I did my best, serving the many masters who had an interest in how the piece turned out. A text version of my story is available on-line at www.extratv.com; check it out!
Hereís a fun dating story you might enjoy. I certainly didnít.
Itís about our friend, pronouns. Yes, for the last couple of months, a woman Iíd been kind of checking out for dating status clues had been using only "I" when referring to herself. As in, me asking "So, any big plans for the weekend?" and her saying "Oh, I might go to a movie, then I was thinking about hanging out with some friends." Well, finally, I came to the conclusion that I really should ask her out. You know, sheís smart and funny, and, as a bonus, cute.
So, one Monday morning, I ask her, "So, how did Friday night turn out?" (We had discussed our weekend plans on Friday afternoon, she again using a bunch of "Iís.") "What did you end up doing?" she asked me, with a flirty smile. "Hey, I asked you first," was my witty (yeah, right) reply. But here was where I sensed a change. See, Iím convinced women have a "Universal Vibe Receptor," and hers must have picked up on the fact that I was now contemplating asking her out. This was in danger of progressing past flirting. Smoothly, she shifted gears, changed pronouns, and dashed my dreams. "Well, WE went to a café and people-watched for a while, then WE went home and watched some videos." For all the time Iíd known her, not a single "we," but then, as if knowing she needed to send a message, the "we" appeared.
Where did that "we" come from? How did she know? Chalk this one up to the growing list of lifeís mysteries that Iíll never understand.
If you see only one movie about the media this year, make sure itís not Mad City. Ugh, what a terrible way to spend two hours. Journalists have it bad enough without this kind of crap reinforcing all those horrible stereotypes.
Now, if youíll excuse me, I have to head off to my job at a tabloid news magazine show. Iíve got a hot story about celebrity women who pay alimony Iíve got to work on.
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