First of all, the new column has released. It’s about Google etiquette when you begin dating a new person. Check it out. Also, check the new column, Date Night with Gina B., if you want reviews of The Tasting Room, Exposure, La Pomme Rouge, and coming up next will be The Bungalow Lounge.

I’m a bit miffed because The Gina Spot has been cut in half to conserve newsprint, which means that I run every other Friday, and alternate my column with Jenni, the lesbian columnist. I’ve said it before, but I can’t help thinking that my 650 weekly words in a 45-70 page newspaper aren’t contributing to environmental destruction. I hate writing every two weeks because it wrecks the continuity of my deadlines and the audience. Also, to alternate my column with one whose audience is drastically different doesn’t really keep the readers interested.

If you would like to complain, feel free to write a letter to the editor. Or perhaps, since I’m so up in arms about it, maybe I should complain.

My friends have been keeping me very busy lately, which is great, although I’m typically “loner girl,” so I’m experiencing a lot of togetherness.

The problem now is that I’m eating too much. Scoozi last night, RL the night before, thai food the night before that. I love you all, but if you think I’m mourning NOW, think of how sad I’ll be when my size reaches double digits. I need to go out dancing more. I’ll have to build that in to the schedule.

Speaking of eating, I’m avoiding a big meal this weekend. I’m not exactly doing my mother proud with my quasi-Easter plans this year. She was the Catholic in the family. My father, I believe, is Baptist, and I’m nothing. I’ve never been baptized, and have no religious alignment whatsoever.

Some would call me a heathen (and by the way, if you call me a heathen? Yeah, you can go straight to hell), but I would call myself “spiritual.” We don’t exactly have religious unity in my family. Just recently, when my mom died, I found out that ½ of her siblings are Baptist, while the other half are Catholic. I don’t get it, but I also don’t understand the concept of 11 children (or even 1, for that matter). But I digress . . .

This Easter – which is really any given Sunday, by my upbringing – I will be praising the Universe while getting spa treatments at the Peninsula.

Hallelujah!

BTW, does anyone watch The Bachelor? Those who know me know that I consider The Bachelor to be television crack. This Bachelor is a cutie – I’m a sucker for an accent. I’m more concerned about the bachelorette contenders, per usual. Some of these women are deplorable.

Chicago had awful representation with skanky Stacy, who had heinous blonde extensions and found it appropriate to stick her panties in his pocket as he was talking to another girl. When he didn’t pick her, she said what I’ve heard so many women say over the years – “He just couldn’t handle me.” Nor would he want to.
I’m also surprised because the black woman made it past the first cut. Usually, the show makes sure that there’s a token minority in the house, and it’s usually moot because she never gets picked. Let’s see how long this one lasts. In the previews for the following week, I see she’s arguing with one of the other foofy girls in the house, so they may keep her on for the sake of drama.

Stay tuned.