Feeling a Little Bloated

Readers, I am full of a substance akin to hot air. For my February resolutions, I decided I need to release a few things so that I can glide like a ballerina again. I need to banish:

1. My hate for Peter Berg because he flicked a cigarette in Dishbrother's face in high school. Peter has done great work and I have to focus on that. (Dishbrother has aged way better)
2. My fear of Hilary Swank and Julia Stiles's wolf teeth. The nightmares won't stop but perhaps if I ask them what they want, maybe they'll go away. I do love them as actresses.
3. The fantasy that Shirley MacLaine will conjure me and we'll take long hikes through the rough terrain of New Mexico. Then, after a meal of yogurt and dried fruit (her diet on the Camino), maybe we can both talk to Heath Ledger, Marilyn, Elvis and ask WTF happened. I long for this, but Downton Abbey will take up her time.
4. My inability to remember how Anderson Cooper is awesome. It's coming back now. He's doing a great job of reporting the horror in Syria.
5. The urge to watch Fox News, just for fun. They just suck--and not in a good way.
6. The propensity to follow the wave of Stupid, like getting caught up in the Kardashians (which won't go away) or all those housewives. My brain is filled with manicures, frozen faces and expensive dresses that look cheap. A FB Friend just "liked" a literary journal. Why am I not doing the same? Tee hee.

I can't release my foraging for star-gossip:

Like that anchorman Greg Kelly was cleared of rape charges. If there is a god, I hope she/he helps his accuser, whatever happened.

The Bachelor's big crybaby Jake Pavelka has joined Chippendales in Las Vegas. Wasn't he a pilot? It's so sad when skilled professionals go into show business. Self-respect doesn't live here anymore. Poor Jake.

House is ending after eight years. The sobbing you hear is TG, though that could be because our Fios isn't working.

Gary Busey is broke. I have two words: Point Break 2.