Star Sighting

10:15 a.m.--on the train to Poughkeepsie: Delicious Paul Rudd sat with wife and son three seats from Dishfriend. He had his laptop open to a PDF of a script (excellent spying, DF!) and his son resembles Jonathan Lipnicki, asking what's this, what's that, who's that, why is this. I queried if Paul was hot in person. Dishfriend replied that Paul was so hot, he had a little accident.

L is for Love

Dish would like to highlight Mia Kirshner. Her self-absorbed character on The L Word is infuriating but, as with Cheetos, you're tempted to eat the entire bag. Or rather, Dish needs to stop eating Cheetos while watching The L Word and writing about celebs. With Mia-viewing, I soon realized: Oh, she's a actress! This dawned on me when she appeared on several episodes of 24, then The Black Dahlia. In each, she is different and haunting. Her character on Season 5 of The L Word bears little resemblance to the shaky girl of the first season. And she could totally be Amy Adams's twin in Scarybuthypnoticactressland.

I'll Allow It

Dish's daily run got exciting. Just as I settled in to a cool 12-minute mile pace, Sigourney Weaver flashed her cho-cho on The View. Did anyone else notice? When Britney, Lindsay and Paris do it, I'm horrified. Sigourney can get away with it. She didn't do it on purpose. If men wore skirts, they'd be flashing their junk everywhere, especially 90% of the XYs, who spread-eagle, on the NYC subway. I'm always tempted to say, "It's not that great that it needs two seats."

Covering the President's Balls

I'm spending the evening watching CNN to see the gowns, the dances, the hand-shaking. If I were in Washington, though, I'd hang with Malia and Sasha because, no doubt, they are having the most fun tonight. Imagine: a sleepover, Hannah Montana, ice cream sundaes, a kitchen filled with chefs whom you can terrorize, parents out till at least 2:30 a.m., and all your friends in a massive house. I'd be playing hall hockey, spraying whipped cream at guards, and stuffing my face.

During today's coverage, Dish was most impressed by the Wonder Women of Washington: Dr. Jill with her hot boots, 'Chelle decked out in joyful yellow, and Hills with a great new coif and her signature dark blue. I'm hoping they jazz up their environs, during which I'll fantasize about joining them for a girls night out filled with cigarettes, tequila, J.I. Jane and monster amounts of chocolate. Is that too much to ask? Tomorrow I'm getting those same boots, more yellow, and Hillary's haircut. Okay, maybe I'm a little Single White Female.

Inauguration is the new Ambien

There's nothing Dish wouldn't do for an Obama inauguration ticket, especially since I'd love to inappropriately touch the stars. Also, my favorite new celeb, Captain Sully, will be present. But as I watch coverage with Dishmama, catch glimpses of last night's concert, all I can say is: Boring McVomit.

If I have to witness another meaningful gathering where Beyonce, U2, Bruce Springsteen, and Sherryl Crow sing to "raise awareness," my cookies are spewing from every direction. I don't need to see Denzel, Tom Hanks or George Clooney gaze meaningfully into the sunset--a private moment caught unawares. Here's my idea of a concert worthy of Obama:

He can have two politically correct artists: The Dave Matthews Band, then Sting with his mandolin.

But after, bring on Prince who would rock the mall with "Let's Go Crazy," all while rhythmically stroking his guitar. I want some Twisted Sister singing "We're Not Going to Take It." KISS would get their freak on with "Lick It Up," which of course refers to licking up the mess W. left. The final group would be Chic with "Good Times." And for those crybabies, I will grant you a Celine Dion with "New Day" or "I Drove All Night." Please, anything but the same old. I know Obama has it in him to bring the house down. I saw him dance on Ellen.

Abe-y Baby: Celebrity #1

Obama has a huge man-crush on Abraham Lincoln, so much so I could see them accidentally kissing after football practice (maybe I have watched too much QAF). Around election day, BO was reading a Lincoln biography. Then he was nabbed visiting the Lincoln Memorial a few weeks ago. The Post published Obama's inaugural feast, which resembles Abe's simple fare. Obama totally has mentionitis about Abe in interviews lately and he just gave a short speech at the Lincoln Memorial (short, just like the Gettysburg Address???). We get it, you're in LOVE, Mr. President, and you're scouring the tabloids for any little Lincoln tidbit you can find. But you won't find Abe emerging topless from the Pacific Ocean!

Dish was so into Abe at age 9, read a million biographies, stared longingly at his mole and strange facial hair. I memorized speeches and pretended he could see me from his log cabin in the sky. I visited Abe's Mem last year and felt his hot spirit coursing through me. When ExBF16 snapped a photo of me, I was pale with love. I understand the fascination completely. These days I'm a Benjamin Franklin girl, but I blame Tom Wilkinson for this.

Saturday Bliss

After dreaming about serial killers--which Dish does often--I woke up gasping at 4:52 a.m. and tuned in to The Brady Bunch. Poor Bobby watched Cinderella and thought Florence Henderson was going to be a bitchy stepmonster so he decided to run away. Suitcase in hand, Miss Wessonality went right with him, proving her devotion. I was moved to tears and fell right back to sleep, the Hannibal Lecters of my psyche banished by a mother's love.

Today in television, beginning of Season 5 of The L Word. My favorites of the female Queer As Folk crew are the old broads--Jane Lynch, Holland Taylor, and Cybill Shepherd. These great actresses steal every scene from the young upstarts. Truth be told, if I lived on that show, I'd fall hard for Shane played by Katherine Moening. The girl is a sorceress (just like Brian Kinney), though I keep wanting to fix her freaking hair. It gets more crooked with each season. This might be to show her "rough edges" in contrast to the other lipsticked, coiffed, and beskirted characters.

Update: Superman arrived in Nigeria and went to visit a men's prison. A minor tussle occurred--probably over his blue cape and red tights--and he had to be escorted out. He saw the guards feeding live chickens to alligators. So glad I hear these things after the fact.

Seething Prettily

Dish is enraged--likely for no good reason. My favorite angry person is Judge Judy. She cuts through the crap and tells the truth. After Judes, I enjoy Al Pacino's rants. I'd love for either one to yell at me. Sadly, Dish went to the Jane Austen School of Rage. I'll make one absurd pronouncement then go back to my needlepoint, stewing for months.

Despite this minor (probably imaginary) ennui, I'm excited for a weekend of series viewing. I have two Nip/Tuck disks and Season 5 of The L Word. I plan to be pasty and stuffed with junk food by Sunday. I'm not sure if I like any of the characters on either show--in fact, they are mostly contemptible--but juiciness abounds!