What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?

I have a huge crush on Brian Williams. I never thought I’d care much about who delivered my news each evening, and I certainly never thought that anyone would ever — could ever — replace my beloved Peter Jennings, but good goddamn, if that Brian Williams doesn’t miraculously fit the bill and make me want to welcome him with open arms into my living room each evening. Because he’s totally talking directly to me, and no one can convince me otherwise. Also, he’s not wearing any pants.

Tom Brokaw, not so much. His mild speech impediment leaves me believing that he’s spitting directly in the faces of everyone he interviews, and made Brian an already welcome replacement.

(Incidentally, I loved Dan Rather, I don’t care about the disgrace and whatnot, and I think, in a strange way, he was justified in suing. He was a scapegoat! A SCAPEGOAT!)

(Also, Katie Couric, no no no, not at all. In fact, she’s terrible. So terrible, I am embarrassed for her, and it’s not — NOT — because she’s a woman. Tell me Elizabeth Vargas isn’t anchor material, because she SO IS.)

The point — this long-winded, miserable point — is that I caught up on TiVo and made sure to watch Brian Williams on SNL, and I think … I think I kind of want to marry him, and I think Adam would be okay with it, as he loves Brian as much as I do.

It’s also worth mentioning that I once knew this guy when he was but a lowly correspondent on the local station in Syracuse while I was in college, and I spent an evening doing shots with him at the local hotel bar waiting for my boyfriend to show up (he never did). A few years later, when he was with the local ABC affiliate in Boston, I would run into him outside the metal detectors in the lobby of the Brookline Planned Parenthood where I was waiting for my monthly shot of Depo Provera.

Not only did it make for one of the more awkward reunions of my life (and also maybe kind of make me HATE the guy because God, he’s such a giant tool), I ended up on the stupid nightly news exiting Planned Parenthood because — oh yes — they were filming the front doors, and was greeted the next morning with two coworkers sheepishly asking, “Hey, um, did I see you on that Planned Parenthood segment last night?”

(Not that I owe anyone an explanation, but at the time, PP was my primary gynecologist, as it was the easiest place for me to get an appointment like, EVER, and for this, and many other reasons, I adore the people at that Planned Parenthood.)

So no, I do not like David Muir, either. Not at all.

Hey, this might also be a great time to tell anyone who’s ever considered it that Depo Provera is, generally speaking, a Bad Idea. I can’t take most birth control pills as they mimic pregnancy in me so well that I actually get morning sickness and throw them up, so it seemed like a good idea at the time, and while yes, I didn’t get my period for a full two years (TWO. YEARS.), despite only being on it for one year, over the course of that year, I also gained approximately 20 pounds that dropped off almost immediately after failing to go for my regularly scheduled 12-week shot. Also, not getting your period is kind of freaky and the whole bone loss thing is also a black mark for sure.

And hey, my hair is still pink, even though I’ve washed it six times, and I’m having lunch with Tammie on Friday, and she will totally be able to vouch for its pinkness. There were a lot of open stares today at work, and once, I overheard a colleague asking another coworker, “I’m kind of color blind, but is that … is that pink? Wow.”

“YES I KNOW IT’S PINK. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.” I yelled over the wall of cubes.

Le sigh.

*R.E.M.

33 comments November 7th, 2007