Oh no! You know, I did hear something about him and Ben Affleck.

Well, the Internet is all afire over reports that George Clooney and his girlfriend Sarah Larson have split. Both People and In Touch magazines are reporting the split, thus giving all other media the opportunity to report on the two magazines reporting on the split. (Way to circumvent the original unattributed source!) Anyway, In Touch Weekly quotes a friend of Larson as saying the pair broke up because the two really had nothing in common. A gazillionaire actor who wants to save Darfur and a cocktail waitress from Vegas half his age have nothing in common? Really? I mean if these two kids can’t make it, who amongst us can? Certainly no one on the full roster of celebrities who have called it quits in May. USA Today has a handy roundup for you here.

If you were serving in Iraq, housed in a grimy outpost lacking electricity and running water, where soot, sewage, and boiling temperatures created miserable living conditions, what would you dream about? A nice long shower? Cherry Garcia? Dorothy’s ruby-red slippers? Maybe just your bed back home?

For military police sergeant Owen Powell, it was Natalie Portman. But not in that way. According to Powell’s haunting, piercing runner-up entry in the New York Times Modern Love college essay contest — Go read it! Run, don’t walk! — his take-me-away visions included the lovely Miss Portman glowing at him from across a romantic table, doing the lambada in his arms. Or, on a bad night, breaking up with him.

But either way, in a way, she saved him. “In the Humvee, I searched for that elusive image of Natalie from the night before; I hunted for her through the blood-warm passages of my mind, chased the feeling of her down tunnels collapsing with the weight of status reports and threat conditions. The thick brushstroke of a single arched eyebrow. A glance across that crowded dance floor, somehow simultaneously sharp and accusatory and mesmerizing. It was as if I had something secret and untouchable that was wholly mine, a delicate and perfect gift in a city that seemed to feast on hate.”

Powell is now back in New York City, both glad and sad to be home. The dreams are gone. But this is the reality: he could totally run into her on the street.

I mean, we would be.