Boooooooooooring.

OH, LOOK!

Lindsay Lohan has violated her probation and been sent e nc e d t o. . . .............zzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Honestly. My complete and utter lack of surprise is manifest in the fact that; while I admit I rather like the whole red-eyed, tangled bleached-blonde locks, I-May-Or-May-Not-Be-Drunk-Right-Now look on Ms. Lohan; I actually physically yawned upon reading the headlines.

I read an article in some magazine (clearly it made an impression because I can't recall the name of said magazine, or when I might have read it) about what will ultimately make women happy in the next ten years (think closing the wage gap, better health coverage for specifically female issues, etc.) would be a definitive effort in lessening the focus of "news" on the lives of celebrities. It creates this hollow sense of impact. UP TO THE MINUTE COVERAGE........of what? Who cares?

I say this. I was as caught up in the Britney saga as anyone else (possibly, weirdly a little more so because I was going through an exceptionally boring point in my life) but, at the end of the day, I was left feeling as though I'd been eating Krispy Kremes all day. Full to the point of nausea on nothing but lard and chemicals. Nothing of value, nothing substantive, but sticking around me for far too long. I had to read a cold shower dosage of Zadie Smith to wash some intellect back into my system. Which is like going raw vegan after a McDonalds feast, but damn don't you feel better the day after?

When Lindsay Lohan goes postal and sets fire to the Hollywood sign, let me know. I'll totally YouTube that clip until my computer fries. But unless it's something completely and totally sensational, I just. Don't. Care. Violated her probation and stuck in jail for 90 days? Yawn.

In other, more substantive news: I like my new job. This rocks. Another 5k race to run this weekend. That will also rock. Today was my first day of not reporting for regularly-scheduled table waiting in two years of service and it felt weird and strange, but in a welcome sort of way.

In other news: I totally don't want a Kindle, but I have a feeling that this will evolve much the same way my feelings towards the iPod did. I didn't want one, thought it was stupid, and then I borrowed a friend's and coveted it madly. I see this happening.

Seriously- if LiLo sets fire to anything...call me. Immediately. Otherwise...eh.