guilty pleasures in no particular order.

1. Jordan Knight covering New Kids on the Block. Double disc album. Owned by me. For those of you who thought it couldn't get worse than my ownership of the London Symphony Orchestra covering Madonna's greatest hits. (Apparently one of you out there didn't think it was so bad b/c you borrowed it and didn't return it.)

2. Seeing famous people look fat in pictures. Thank you US Weekly.

3. Astrologyzone.com. I stay up late the last night of the month so I can sneak a peek at what Susan is predicting for the next month. True. Not that I should feel guilty about being emotionally attached to my horoscope. I am a Scorpio and we're just obsessed like that...

4. Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup. Sodium plus starch, period. I could live on this stuff.

5. Singing in the car. I know, not a guilty pleasure until I tell you that sometimes I rewind so I can sing a different part of the harmony. Gotta cover it all. Albums like Brandy offer maximum harmonizing potential, fyi.

I have no idea why I just cyberdumped these private facts. I'm a stone's throw from a reality show audition. Actually, I think I'd like my own show. It could be called So Lillious. Don't worry, Tori could have a supporting role. I don't want to totally steal the limelight. It would be about my life, my times, and importantly, my rise as a pre-eminent literary agent to the stars (see www.hyperwest.net/anachronic for more details on cast member Jon Yang).

So basically it would show me reading for the first 5 minutes. Then for the next 25 minutes the camera would watch me watching my screen, emailing everyone I know - clients, friends, randoms and laughing at my own wit. Insert more featuring my various friends. I'd definitely give special attention to my lawyer friends, contrasting their days with mine (them in suits, me in cute sweats. them clocking in and out, me reading manuscripts in the sun). Maybe I'll take a note from Hasselhoff and do a slo-mo montage of that bit. I'd let my parents be on the show, but my dad couldn't make jokes about me being an old maid. Come to think of it, I'd probably have to make him sign something about that.

I still feel like I'm jetlagged from my awesome trip to NYC. This week's lesson on "So Lillious" is that you can take a wicked nap if you bunch up an airplane blanket for a pillow to rest your head on on your traytable. Plus you look so weird that the air waitresses (as I like to call them) leave you alone.

Like a Von Trapp, I bid you adieu (always wanted to do that. To you, and you, and you and you and you). Nitey nite.