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Okay, so I’m just going to say this once: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

If you were anywhere on the Eastern seaboard, you probably heard me scream that last night around 8:58 pm, when Gilmore Girls wrapped up for the season. My friend Dana, who was sittng next to me on the couch, just looked at me like I was nuts. But I ask: WHY? Why make things so hard for a two people we waited forever to get together? What happened to Luke “I’m in, I’m all in?” Danes? Who is this person who won’t commit the woman he’s loved since the show started? And now, with Amy Sherman-Palladino gone next year, what will happen NEXT?

I have to say I am almost too emotionally involved at this point to find out. Maybe I’ll calm down by September. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

(For those of you who don’t watch Gilmore Girls, I swear this will be my last entry on it for awhile. Thanks for your patience.)

In related news—i.e. television themed—I have to say I was all about the Yamin last night on Idol. Make someone an underdog, have them rise above and shine, and what I can say? You’ve got me. Who else thinks that after tonight this might be an all-guy competition? Yeah. Me too.

Although I have to say, singing Elvis songs is tough. I mean, make all the fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches cracks you want, but Elvis was special. I personally became obsessed with Elvis when I was about fourteen and bought a cassette tape (ah, memories!) of his greatest hits at a flea market for ten bucks, which I then proceeded to listen to constantly. Nowadays, Elvis is so iconic: like Marilyn Monroe, he’s transcended who he was in life to be this whole other thing (not to mention thriving industry). Everyone has their preferences, but I’m partial to the younger, Kid Creole, Ed Sullivan Elvis, when he had this hair all long and falling in his face and was still so aw-shucks about everything. If you haven’t seen him as he was then—or even in his comeback special, in that black leather outfit?—you should. Hype aside, you’ll get what all the fuss is about.

What I really felt was missing from last night’s coverage of Graceland, though, was my favorite living Presley, Lisa Marie. How much do I love her? I can’t even say. She is the total live wire—if you saw her on Oprah last year you know what I’m talking about—and yet totally down to earth, self-deprecating, and all-out funny. Priscilla, with the plastic surgery (calling Kenny Rogers! What is it this year, Idol brought to you by Botox?) kind of freaked me out last night, but I wish Lisa had been on. You just know she would have told them all to stop taking themselves so seriously, and rolled her eyes when her mom was talking, and said something to offend someone. Would have been more interesting that Tommy Mottola, at any rate. (Not that he wasn’t interesting, of course. But he’s no Lisa Marie.)

*reads over entry*

Man, I sure am complaining a lot about what I’m watching, aren’t I? Everyone’s a critic. I’m sure I wouldn’t like the Palladinos, or whoever puts together Idol, to be writing about how I could write better books. Hmmm. What can I say, everything looks easier to do when you’re not the one doing it. I should really think about this…but it’s a little early to get introspective. Maybe I’ll have more coffee first.

But before I go do that, I have to say happy birthday to my friend Adam, who recently took me for a quick walking tour of Boston, made me laugh hard over lunch, and gives the best America’s Next Top Model commentary of anyone I know. Have a great day, Adam….

….and everyone else, as well!

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