I was enjoying a long, hot shower this morning (after sleeping off the rum drinks I had last night at a friend's party), getting ready for a day of perhaps a little work, but definitely heading out to a bar watch the Duke/Carolina game, and definitely not going to church or anything like that, when I realized I'm not really doing this whole Lent thing properly this year. Sure, making an effort to spend less time in front of the computer and more time outside, ensuring the dogs (and me) get exercise, is noble, in it's way, but it's not really sacrifice, you know? And that's what Lent is all about. Giving up something you love in the name of God and self-restraint and getting to tell everyone what you gave up, and then feeling really, really awesome and self-righteous about that. It took only seconds for me to come up with the appropriate indulgence. Something I'd miss, but could certainly survive without, like giving up the things I've given up in the past - television, meat, Fig Newtons - that presented a challenge and, at the 40 days' end, a sense of accomplishment: celebrity gossip. It's not like I'm immersed in the stuff all day long but I do check the website The Superficial on a very regular basis and have been known to throw one or two, um, less-than-intellectual magazines into my basket when I'm at the grocery store picking up some cereal and bananas and whatnot.

So I'll soldier onwards in what's left of this solemn season trying my best to avoid the sagas of Britney and Anna Nicole's baby, although I'm not so naive as to think I'll be able to avoid it altogether. I mean, this is America, after all, and this stuff is showing up on CNN.