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I have nothing but petty, superficial complaints.

It's been a long time since I've seen a cute, interesting-looking, not-too-manly, not-too-womanly girl. I can't remember the last time I had a crush that made me feel like a shy, hopeless adolescent.

And to add to this irritation, I saw that Elizabeth Berkely is going to be on the next season of The L Word. Gross! I'm tired of seeing excessively girly girls who wear too much make-up play lesbians. Gimme some cute tomboys. I'm bored, goddamnnit!

Although Alexandra Hedison will come back. That makes up for it. Hot.

Okay, I think girls (gay or straight) talk about (or complain about) boobs just as much as straight guys do. Translation: here is my not-so-intelligent boob-centric conversation of the week....

Me: I really just want my 20's and 30's. I don't know if I want to live in my 40's
Friend: Right. Ew. No.
Me: But if we do live that long, at least our boobs won't sag.
Friend: Mine won't. Yours will.
Me: HEY. No they won't!
Friend: Yours are huge.
Me: They are NOT! I'm a B cup!
Friend: You'll be tuckin' your boobs into your pants when you hit 40.
Me: You haven't seen what mine look like.
Friend: Yes I have.
Me: Not bare!
Friend: Whatever, I have cameras in my bathroom.
Me: It's those double C's and D's that have to worry. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Friend: You'll be a size K.
Me: I might just have to flash you one of these days to shut you up.