Eff! Eff! EFF!

This is where I will probably be all weekend because I was totally going to go to Luxembourg to see Mims and Thad but Daddy had the plane in Dubai and so I was actually going to have to fly commercial which I'm sure you all remember what happened LAST time I flew commercial and so I totally said I wasn't going to ever do that again. But I totally wanted to go, so I was like, "Whatever." I didn't want to do it but life is full of stuff you don't want to do, but you have to do it anyway. Unless you can get someone else to do it for you, like a PA or whatever.

ANYWAY, I was actually at the airport, waiting, and this pregnant lady came and sat down next to me which is always a bad way to start off anything because those people always want something like a autograph for their niece who's dying or whatever. So I was like all up on my guard but she was ok, she just pulled out a magazine and started reading it. It was like OK! or People or whatever and she got to the page with a picture of me (OF COURSE) and she read it and then looks at me. Looks at the magazine. Looks at me. I start sliding down in my seat and wishing my sunglasses were bigger because I just knew she was going to want to take my picture or talk to me or whatever. But she just keeps looking at the magazine then looking at me. Finally, I was about to crawl out of my skin, she goes, "You should have stayed in rehab." This is how I go when I am all speechless "!". I didn't even know what to say because I was so totally shocked. Like who does stuff like that??? Anyway, I was like, "Who are you to talk? That baby you're about to have might have problems, you know?" Well, it actually turns out she wasn't pregnant, she was just fat and man! was she pissed off! Which is NOT good for the baby. So anyway, by the time the cops finished with us, the plane to go was gone so I had to call Harvey and tell him to come back and get me. So I'm NOT going to Luxembourg. Good thing she didn't go into labor because that would not have been cute!

**Correction**

I guess my doctor reads my bloggy thing since she was all calling today going, "You did not break your back. Stop telling people you did and stop giving my phone number to reporters!" Whatever. I guess it's something to do with my disks, which totally makes sense since I hardly ever put them back in their cases. You should see the Maz, I have stacks of them lying in the thing with the thing for your phone. Knute calls it the "hidey-hole" but I think that sounds sort of dirty. Anyway, I don't know what the way I treat my CDs has to do with my back, but medicine is totally complicated and confusing which is why I am not a doctor. Anyway I don't even know how Dr. Beauchamp knows about the way I treat my disks, but whatever she does and she was PISSED.

Frankly, my bed is super pretty and I love it when Knute runs all the way from the door, across the room and jumps on it, it was Diane de Poitier's bed like a thousand years ago or whatever. I totally didn't even know who she was but I guess Knute looked it up and she was boinking some king in France, so that's cool. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. Anyway, I love my pretty bed, but I am seriously tired of being in it! It's super red! I never noticed how RED it is.

So I missed Sundance and all the gift tents which just makes me sick, then I missed the SAG Awards last night. I totally don't even know why they call them the "Sag" awards - there were so many fake boobs in that room last night! I was like, "Whoa!"

Oww.

So here's the thing. I haven't written lately and thanks to all my fans who've been following the story in the tabs and ET and E! who've written and sent presents and stuff. By now, I'm sure you've all heard about the car wreck. I don't know what that homeless guy was doing sleeping on that bus bench, but he was really asking for it by being right out there in the open. Anyway, I think I broke my back or maybe something. Here's the thing, I have to stay in bed, on my back for like ever. I am so bored I could DIE. Not really die like that homeless dude, but die of like boredumb. Normally, I enjoy just lying around, but it hurts so I can't even flop around like I like and PLUS I'm on so many drugs that it's not any fun. Which is totally hard to believe because normally I am all about drugs but these just make me sleepy.

Here's the weird thing, I've had lots of people who have offered to help. One of who is a psychic and she said I have bad harmony in my life. I was like, "DUH!" So then she started talking about some stuff that sort of sounded like feng shui again and we all remember how THAT turned out! But she wanted to talk about unhappiness and shit like that. I was like, "Look, I was totally happy until my friend (WHO WILL REMAIN NAMELESS but you all know who I'm talking about) smashed into the bus stop!" I mean, who rides the bus? Seriously?!!! If that bus stop hadn't been there, we would have been fine.

I hate thinking

So I think the reason I'm so crabby is that last week, in a session with Edgar, he was like, "Why do you think you are so drawn to narcissists?" And I was all, "I don't know." And he was like, "Do you think it is a way for you to avoid real intimacy?" I don't even have a clue what that means, but it almost has the word Macys in it, which sounds ok to me! Anyway, Edgar made me focus and he goes, "If you hang out with people who only talk about themselves, then you don't have to share anything of yourself." I was all, "WHOA!" At first I was thinking that's not even right, but then I started making a list in my head of people who never ever ask me any questions about myself and it was like EVERYBODY I KNOW. It was crazy. I'm not going to list them here because most of them read my bloggy thing and I don't want to hurt their feelings, although Edgar says they wouldn't get their feelings hurt, so I would be ok. But I am not about being mean or whatever, so I'm not going to list them. Plus, Edgar said if I didn't name them, they would never know because they all think they are super-fabulous. Of course top of the list was the former number one boyfriend (still not capitalized, you will note). But a lot of other people too. So I guess I'll be working on emotional intiMACYS this month which mostly sounds super boring.

All that talk about shopping made me crazy so I went and bought a new purse!

Not even going

So me and Knute were just talking because I was supposed to have made him a list of whatever I wanted to take to Luxembourg, but I didn't. So he just came in the Master Suite and goes, "Cups, what's wrong?" I guess it's not like me not to want to take a trip. So I was like, "I feel icky." I was actually just lying here on the bed with my head hanging off the edge because sometimes that makes me think better. So he's all like, "Maybe you need to sit up." So I did and then I got dizzy, so Knute made me lie down flat. So then he's all like, "Why are you icky?" And I was like, "I don't know. I just am. I don't even want to go to Luxembourg. I just want to stay here and sleep." So he was all, "Is it the weather?" And I go, "yeeeaaaaaa..." Then Knute is all, "Is it your Number One Boyfriend?" And I could totally tell by the way he said it that he mentally capitalized it, so I was like, "No capitals." And Knute was like, "Huh?" I said, "Don't capitalize it." Well, you would have thought I was totally speaking a foreign language because he looked so blank." He goes, "Capitalize what?" And I go, "Number One Boyfriend." And he's all, "Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay. What are you talking about?" And I go, "He doesn't deserve to be capitalized anymore." Well, I don't see what the problem was, but Knute was having issues with the whole conversation, so I just totally changed the subject. Anyway, we aren't going to Luxembourg, I'm going to stay in bed all weekend and sulk, whatever that means. That's what Knute suggested, he's all, "I bet you'd feel way better if you just sulked." So I'm totally going to do that, even though I don't know what that is. I hope it's like shopping or getting a facial!

Ok, here's the thing...

I see that all my fans are totally voting to hear more about my number one boyfriend but, as I'm sure you noticed, I didn't even capitalize it - which means, of course, he's gone. He couldn't make up his mind about how fabulous I am, so he had to go. I mean, what else could I do? If he's not 100% all over how awesome I am, he's out. It's that simple.

So I was going to take him to Luxembourg with me to visit Mims and Thad, but since he flaked out, I'm going alone. How sucky is that? I mean, Knute will go, but I was sort of looking forward to having like a trip with a number one boyfriend. I'm not even going to ask any of my other boyfriends. I might not even go at all. I think I might be depressed. This sucks.

I need a panda

I just saw one of these in a video and I think I need one. I think it's a dog. I don't have a dog. I know I have a cat or a couple of cats, I think. I don't think I have a dog yet. So I'm all like, "Knute, get me a panda-dog. He was like, "Ok! A dog would be fun!." So I was up in my computer room and I showed him the panda dog I wanted and Knute was like, "That's not a dog." I totally don't even care, I just want one. Then he was like, "It's engendered." I have no idea what that means and I don't even care.