Meg's Blog


After the devastating news about Paris and Paris splitting up (why, God, why? If those two crazy kids can't make it together, can anyone?) then Jessica and Nick (are they breaking up or aren't they? Why won't Jessica just wear her wedding ring when she goes out? And is this all just a publicity stunt to get more attention for Nick's new sportscasting gig?), I truly believed things couldn't get any worse.

Then I saw this.

Will the madness ever stop?

As if all of that were not bad enough, I found out friends of mine routinely refer to US WEEKLY, PEOPLE MAGAZINE, and various other such publications such as these as “Megginzines.”

I resent this. I want you all to know that I read both the NEW YORK TIMES (well, the Style section and the magazine) and THE NEW YORKER, too (the movie reviews, anyway). And okay, I usually get to those last. But that's only because I can never find my glasses to read all that tiny print.

I may be going cold turkey on all Megginzines from now on, however, because I can't take the stress anymore. Between the war on terror, what's going on in Iraq, the hurricanes, avian flu, the 6,000 unread emails in my inbox–many of which have things like “Ready or Not–So Disappointed” and “My Mom Won't Let Me Read Your Books Anymore” and “You Are Going to Hell” and “Kenny Chesney Isn't Gay” in the subject line–along with all the books I have due, Paris and Paris, Nick and Jessica, and now TomKat's impending spawn, I'm up most of the night, freaking out.

I'm just glad I have my transportation all secured for when the oil runs out. Meet my new bike, Purple Heat's companion, Pinkie 2:

Pie? What pie? I didn't eat any pie. Especially not on a stick and dipped in Belgian chocolate.

Although if the world really is ending, as I suspect, pie on a stick is what we all need. Would someone please give one to Nicole Ritchie so we can all breathe a little easier?

More later.

Much love,


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