Tuesday, November 2, 1999
"Has another millennium gone by already?" I ask myself every day.
We've got two whole months before the end of the millennium, and I'm still not exactly sure that I actually care. I've yet to stockpile champagne, and I refuse to buy new millennial calendars until March, when they're 50% off at Barnes & Noble. And who wants to commit to any of these expensive New Years Eve packages being offered by hotels, night clubs, and cruise ships? Do you want to be trapped in a club at thirty seconds 'til midnight, suddenly possessed with the sudden realization that if this is the beginning of the Apocalypse, then you'll be dying with a room full of drunken morons listening to "Mambo No. 5"? It's absurd to assume, of course, that just because the Christian calendar has reached an entirely arbitrary numerical milestone, we're all going to die. Yet it's fun to be all dramatic and wonder if some Y2K bug will erase you from existence. It's also fun to create millennium lists, like Most Important Inventions Of The Millennium, and Most Glamorous Women Of The Millennium. Why, I'm creating my own! See the end of this column for my first foray into the ever-important ranking of millennium landmarks. But in the meantime...
Gavin Rossdale and his band, Bush, will be celebrating the end of their last 1,000 years in an explosive Times Square appearance in the millennium epicenter. (Hopefully, they'll be the only explosive things in Times Square that night. I won't be at the HoJo then, I assure you!) A far smaller legion of Bush fanatics gathered last week outside of the immense Virgin Megastore in Times Square to get their CDs, limbs, and other perishables signed by the red hot group. Few of the burning Bush fans, however, were privy to Gav's little indiscretions the night previous, where he was seen lounging at downtown bar, Canteen, party-heartying for four hours and then leaving closely attached to a lovely blonde. A blonde who, incidentally, was not Gavin's current squeeze Gwen Stefani. No doubt she'll be curious to learn of this incident! They were never the most stable relationship to begin with -- reports from Stefani's camp call it a classic "on again/off again" affair -- though Gwenda may allow her eyeliner lover to flirt casually. These rock couples -- so edgy!
Nobody's really seen Mariah Carey around with her supposed lover, Luis Miguel, recently, and anyone who ingested the following nugget regarding Carey's newest release "Rainbow" might have found a pot of gold. Seems Carey and Miguel were to have a steamy duet on the album -- similar to the smashing Jennifer Lopez-Mark Anthony tune on the buttocks queen's latest release (sorry, boss, I'm sure you'll be on his next album!) -- but apparently the lovebirds were so incompatible vocally that Lu physically cut up the master to the song and mailed it back to Carey's producer, David Foster! The New York Daily News delivers Foster's claims that it was simply musical matters, not a romantic clash, that did in the potential album track, but he did add that he was unsure if the couple were still together.
By the way, will somebody please keep Mariah from jutting her hips out like that? She's going to have to get artificial joints as an old woman if she keeps this up! The human body wasn't meant to stand in such flirtatious poses for extended periods of time.
The latest word from the boudoir of Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones involves Douglas' son, Cameron, who was apprehended by police this week for possession of cocaine. Gee, could the fact that he's dating the daughter of club lord Peter Gatien be any reason he was caught? I'm sure naughty celebrities walk around with drugs all the time without being caught. (Michael McConaughey being the outstanding exception here.) My advice to Cameron: stay away from the offspring of enemies of the mayor.
Another weird dilemma in Cameron's life involves his father's girlfriend. Before dad scored the beautiful "Entrapment" star, Cameron was quite into her himself and had actually adorned his room with pictures of the gorgeous star. One need use only a smidgen of imagination to picture father entering son's room, becoming aroused by the décor, and soon deciding he needed to acquire such an object of desire. Everyone in unison now: "Scareeeee!!!"
That's not Douglas' only unusual habit. The Post reports that the strangely paired lovers were seen taking a leisurely jog from his Upper West Side apartment all the way down to Bryant Park in midtown. Once in the park, however, the two delighted in the power and joy of cigarettes, filling their heaving superstar lungs with deadly smoke!
Baby Come Back
Wouldn't the world be different if you could send impassioned pleas to your ex-loves via the international media? Breakup Girl would be working overtime if we all utilized the press to echo our pathetic cries! It would not be the first time "pathetic" was used to describe Diana Ross, but the domineering songstress recently emptied her heart to the London Daily Telegraph, begging her Norwegian millionaire husband, Arne Naess, to return. "I don't want to get divorced!" the marital victim claims, lamenting the days of the two having "soup and beer by the fire." (Sounds romantic ... for a lumberjack!) She also suggests that she wanted marital counseling but the tycoon wasn't interested. Maybe if you stopped acting so, you know, tyrannical, maybe you could actually keep a husband.
Going a step further is the object of Breakup Girl's star sighting last week, Jerry O'Connell, who recently pined for his ex-girlfriend Sarah Michelle Gellar (who staked the rosy-faced hunk in the heart earlier this year). He, too, is pleading for her return, going one essential pathetic step further than Ben Affleck, who just seems moody and sad in interviews and reportedly proclaimed to find women who merely look like his Oscar-winning ex attractive. Jerry, leaking possible obsessive behavior to the press is never a good idea. Why don't you take Ben out for dinner and share shoulders to cry on?
Christian Almost Bails
God almost royally pissed me off last week by almost killing super-hottie Christian Bale, who was involved in a taxicab accident in New York last week while on his way to the Night Of The Stars fashion benefit. The "Newsies" sweetheart was uninjured, but his girlfriend had to be rushed to a hospital for stitches. I hope she heals soon, so that Christian can quickly break up with her and marry me!
Bette Midler's warmly received Madison Square Garden concert brought out her celebrity fans, including Rosie O'Donnell (perhaps even in exciting K-Mart apparel), paper-towel spokeswoman and George's mom Rosemary Clooney, and Susan Sarandon, obviously well nourished (see last week's column). An alert reader also spotted Bruce Vilanch, the plus-sized comedy writer who's given Midler many of her best lines.
I saw downtown lounge sensations Kiki and Herb once again on Sunday and happened to sit with Ricky Martin's makeup artist, who's accompanying the Latin pop star on his current tour. Nothing was divulged, but I couldn't resist a vague question regarding Martin's infamously pockmarked flesh. "Does Ricky really require much makeup?" The emphatic reply: "Oh yes!"
My First Millennial List
Before I launch into my very first Millennium list, you must, of course, know a few rules of Millennium Lists that I have based on lists created by A&E, BBC, and other fine makers of MLs:
Without further ado, I present....
Until next time, my wiggy ones,
Breakup Girl created by Lynn Harris & Chris Kalb