Son of a bitch.

If I had been in Vegas this week instead of last, I could have seen my favoritest WT crush, Kid Rock, currently on the Billboard Music Awards from the MGM Grand hotel.
Damn.

I’ve put enough photos of Kid Rock on this site … aw, hell. What’s one more?

In other news, Nickelback is still around? I had no idea.

This is the lamest news story of the day:

Brad Pitt says he won’t marry Angelina Jolie until everyone can get married.

Umm yeah. That’s his tactic, his trump card? Wow.

In all honesty, with my commitment issues, I probably would have been happy with a sparkly ring (’cause I’m a magpie like that) and a long-term boyfriend in lieu of a husband. But, getting married meant that certain things like health insurance were more affordable. Of course, I have the luxury of saying that because, as a heterosexual, I could go out and get married tomorrow if I wanted to. Not everyone can.

I don’t what my point really is, as I don’t really keep my political views quiet. Who you love, in my view, has no bearing on your worth as a person. But Brangelina’s proclamation just rubs me the wrong way.

So Jessica Simpson, a classy example of an ex-wife if I’ve seen one (unlike myself ha ha), has said that Nick Lachey, my future husband, is underendowed.

Noooooo!

I refuse to believe that Nick has a small wee-wee! In my dreams he is hung like a horse so hung like a horse he shall be!

Near the end of my marriage, things got a little testy. But I never — never! — pointed out the ex’s skillz or lack thereof (at least to his face lol). As far as I’m concerned, a girl’s got to save those comments for when it’s time to be really hurtful. Far be it from me to draw a connecting line between the Mercedes and what he’s packing, but, oops, guess I just did.

So Kid Rock and Pam Anderson tied the knot — for the first of many times. Actually, they’re one of my favorite celeb couples because, despite the outer trappings of trash, they seem like genuine people (except for the PETA weirdness). Pam writes a column in Jane magazine, to which I subscribe ’cause it was like $8/year, and the writing is surprisingly intelligent and good. I don’t think it’s that heavily edited, because why would they hire her if she was a bad writer? I mean, she’s not writing for Playboy.

Anyway, in honor of their special day, I give to you the lyrics to the great, the soulful, the Lonely Road of Faith, as sung by the bridegroom. You know you like it, ’cause God is great indeed if you believe. What hymn could say it any better?

Lonely Road of Faith

I have been there
Unprepared for the storms and the tides that rise
I've realized one thing, how much I love you
And it hurts to see, see you cryin'
I believe we can make it through the winds of change

God is great indeed
If you believe, in the everlife
Yeah we gotta
Make some sense of the piece that's not defined
And if you just hold on, I wont let ya fall
We can make it through the storms and the winds of change

Though I walk through the valley of darkness
I am not afraid
Cause I know I'm not alone

And if the wind blows east, would you follow me
And if the wind blows north, would ya stay your course
And if the wind blows west, would ya second guess
And if it blows to the south, would you count me out
And if the sun don't shine, would you still be mine
And if the sky turns grey, would you walk away
Would you say I do, if I say I'll be
And walk this road through life with me
You know I love youuuuuu

On this lonely road of faith
On this lonely road of faith

Why is it news that Mike Wallace once tried to kill himself?

The real story is, why, in 2006, depression still is stigmatized to the point that its sufferers — myself included — aren’t comfortable talking about it.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s a chronic illness. I’m not currently on medication, and haven’t been for over a year. But I have been on antidepressants three times in 10 years and chances are good that I’ll be on them again at some point.

For me, depression affects my thinking, my behavior, my physical well-being, every part of me. There were days I could not bring myself to leave the bed. There were days I could not stop crying. I never tried to kill myself but there were times — when I was 24 years old, first married, stuck in Indiana — that I would think about driving off of the road, just hoping the pain that was inside of me would stop.

I thought it was my fault.

I thought something was wrong with me, that I was ungrateful, that I just couldn’t be happy with that I had. But it was no more my fault than a broken leg would be my fault. Depression runs in families: my dad, brother, mother (although she never sought medical treatment, as far as I know), my grandmother and my uncle all have been depressed.

Being attuned to my emotions is a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I generally know what I’m feeling. But on the other, I’m so sensitive to my emotions that I react more strongly than other people and I’m able to see sadness in other people, too. I hurt, a lot.

About a year ago, I noticed a change in a good friend. She was snappish, teary, just not herself. So I did something unusual for me — I opened up. Over time, I told her about my depression. I told her about sleeping too much, about crying too much. I told her that medicine can help, that itfixes a part of your brain that just doesn’t work right. One morning, she called me and said she couldn’t stop crying. I cried with her. I told her it could get better, to just call her doctor. I told her not to worry, but they’d probably get her right in if she told them what was wrong (they did, her only laugh of the day). She still takes Prozac today (I’ve been on Paxil — freaky shit — Wellbutrin — can’t drink alcohol! — and Lexapro.) and she’s a more compassionate person today.

If you’re reading this at 2 in the morning because you can’t sleep and you feel more alone than you ever have, you’re not. You may wonder if you’ll ever feel like “you” again — you will. No one has to know that you’re getting help … but, I bet that once you’re back to yourself, you’ll be just as mad as me that it was so difficult to get help in the first place.

I’m getting an early start. This is for my friend, Jennifer, who went to the Tim McGraw/Faith Hill concert over the weekend. I’m going in July. She was much more enthusiastic about Tim than Faith, but honestly, what woman isn’t???

I’ve always kind of liked how unabashed Tim McGraw is about his beefcakiness. But then again I am all about the equal exploitation of hot men. As I said last week to a friend, I will gladly support any film with full-frontal male nudity. It’s my reward for seeing bare boobs in roughly every third movie. ; )

BTW, a search of “Tim McGraw” + “shirtless” turned up NOTHING! : (

If you’re surprised that Eminem and his wife are divorcing again.

I almost feel sorry for the guy.

Almost.

Damn, Ryan Reynolds is looking f-i-n-e. (Photo originally posted at I’m Not Obsessed.)

This, my friends, is Eddie Van Halen:

Eddie never was a good-looking man, but damn. This is what he’s turned into? Talk about a walking advertisement against drugs/smoking/drinking/whatever the hell he did to make himself look like that. Yikes.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted a “crush of the week.” George Clooney is like crush of a lifetime. Sigh. He’s so cute. And he keeps getting cuter. He was even cute in “Syriana,” with icky facial hair. Hmmm Matt Dillon is on TV now and he’s looking kind of cute too. No, I will stick with my original choice! I heart George 4-ever.

P.S. My real-life crush of the week, Scott, and I are having dinner again on Wednesday. Sigh.