The O.C.
Seth and Summer's almost-kiss moments are about to break me. Seriously. All that girl wants to do is play dress-up for that boy. I mean, we all know, if a lady wears a Wonder Woman costume for you once, she's adventurous. But if she voluntarily puts on hooker boots and a skirt that might require lube to remove — just so you can get a better rendering for your comic book — that's love. And why Zack can't see it is beyond me. Poor clueless boy. Just when he thinks Summer's over his best comic-book buddy, those "late nights, high stress and close quarters" are gonna do him in.

Speaking of sex (I know we weren't really. But sorta, we were.): Can we stop with the Joeyesque metaphors? When Summer told Marissa, "We taxied down the runway but never achieved liftoff," I immediately thought of Joey's "approach the runway/approval to land" bit. And speaking of Marissa (I know I wasn't, but now I am): How much you want to bet she locks lips with Alex next week? It's gonna be all Marissa and Alex sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes the Look, then comes the Hand-Holding, then comes the girl-on-girl-action in an attempt to grab sweeps-period ratings.

Oh, and to give you a quick update on the other folks: Caleb had a mild heart attack during dinner with Lindsay, Ryan, et al. In the hospital he lamented that "it took a coronary" for him to realize how terrible he's been. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't even think I liked you until I thought I lost you," Lindsay said. But her unspoken reply was a sobby, "Oh, Daddy." And on the Mama and Daddy Cohen tip: Kirsten caught Sandy's ex love of his life Rebecca crashing on his new beach-office couch. Next week's argument is not gonna be cute.

Happy Days 30th Anniversary Reunion Special
Watching this was like sitting too close to the stage at the ballet. It was great and all. But now a little bit of the magic is gone. I mean, really. It lowers the cool-memory factor of Fonzie riding into the diner when I learn that the only reason he did that is because Garry Marshall tricked ABC execs into letting the Fonz be a hood in a leather jacket by promising that he would only wear the jacket when he was on his motorcycle. Speaking of TMI: I just had an evil Menudo flashback. As I was typing "motorcycle," I sang "motorcycle dreamer" and "s&#250bete a mi moto." Not good, people. Not good.

Joey
Gina had two quick car dates and a which-man-do-I-choose? dilemma (El Camino Guy or Mercedes Guy?) during the ten minutes she was supposed to be off trying to help Joey get out of the traffic jam. She is wrong for that. The writers are also wrong for having Joey bear-hug Jay Leno and call him Johnny. It was funny, though. Oh, the laughs are back.

Will & Grace
Or maybe I'm just in a great mood, because I just chuckled four times in the first three minutes of W&G. Jack's Broadway diva wig, Will's "red states" comment, Jack's use of the word "breasteses" and Will saying "Me and Vince, Brad and Jen: America's in mourning," I smile just typing it. What's wrong with me? Wait. Is this a good episode? I haven't seen one of those in so long I'm not sure. OK, let me check. First I laughed four times in the three minutes. Second I learned how to fold jeans in a way that won't give them pseudo creases (thanks Will). Then there was Jack's crazy dancing at the insta-Gay club, his "Shut up, Patti Lupone" moment and the return of creepy Jeff Goldblum as Scott Woolley, Karen's sworn enemy and soon-to-be crazed suitor. Hmmmmm. I just don't know.

The Wedding Date commercial
Or should I say commercials? Because they overworked the Debra Messing connection by playing an ad during every W&G break. And you know what, I'm betting they showed all the movie's best lines already. Although I hope that one about how "every woman has the exact love life she wants" isn't true. Because if so, me and my subconscious have got to talk.

The Apprentice
False advertising!! For the record: Those darn promos were wrong again. According to the clock on my Cablevision box, Verna quit at 9:06. That's a full minute later than promised. (She left the suite at 9:08, which is a whole day later than her Magna teammates would have liked. But I digress.) I wonder: Do you think this experience sent her into serious therapy? I'm not trying to be funny here. I'm seriously concerned about a girl. I mean, she's had to wait months for what amounts to public humiliation. And now she's going to have to talk about it over and over. That can't be good. But on a lighter Apprentice note: Danny got played. Oh, don't think I'm not onto you, Bren. You were trying to get rid of old boy when you suggested he be the team leader. Uh-huh. I caught that action. That was a chess move right there. And it would have been an easy clean sweep, too, if Michael hadn't decided to rub everybody's face in the fact that he was exempt. But whatever.

The Taster's Choice commercial
So if I go to tasterschoice.com I'll get a free two-week supply of coffee. What? No dinero? That Linda Cook woman won $10,000. Heck I'll settle for $5000. How about $500. $5? Nope? OK. Send me the coffee then.

CSI
Dear Diary,
Lessons I learned tonight while watching my mother's favorite show:
1. Covering a body in roofing tar masks the smell, thus keeping animals from digging it up.
2. Tar becomes as brittle as glass at about minus-200 degrees.
3. If I ever break my jaw, the doctors will use 26-gauge stainless steel to surgically wire my mouth shut (and I'll probably finally eat within my Weight Watchers flex-point range).
4. You can tell from the soil how long a decomposing body has been in the ground.
5. The next time I accidentally wash a pair of jeans and leave a piece of paper with a guy's number on it in the pocket (or let's be real: the next time I wash a receipt and I need to return something), I should check the lining of the jeans. Thanks to the magic of fatty acids and blah, blah, blahs, the number may have transferred from the paper to my pocket lining.

ER
I know I'm supposed to feel bad for Pratt losing that darling little boy patient and all. But I'm stuck on Jake and Abby. When she told the fine Mr. she couldn't date him because he was her subordinate, he switched shifts so he no longer worked for her. Then he waited outside her apartment in the Chicago-freezing cold — which is different from normal cold; I know 'cause I used to live there — so she could sign off on the last bit of paperwork. That last part's a bit too stalker-y. But, dang. Can I get just a little piece of that? I mean, he waited in the Chicago-freezing cold. Chicago. Freezing. Cold. I'm just saying.

The iPod Shuffle commercial
I was going to be the first one in line for the iPod Greatest Hits CD until this spot. What's wrong with these two shadow dancers? Are they hearing the same music as I am? Because their steps aren't matching the song. I'm just saying.

Made
So jock Mack wants to be made into a ballet dancer. "I'm wearing a man thong right now," he says as he pulls on his ballet support strap. "I'm not used to having things up my butt." My first thought: Not yet. Oooh. I went from zero to evil stereotype in two seconds. I know I'm beyond wrong for that. But this is my weekly confessional, so there you go. OK. Now, on the for real, I love this show. These kids put in 38 days or more of hard work to achieve their dreams without surgical help, and usually they get it. (I say usually because there was that time when that girl didn't make the dance squad. And a couple of weeks ago another girl fell while trying to reach her dirt-bike — motorcycle dreamer! — dream.) But back to Mack. His dirty dancing moment when he was practicing the lift with Sophia in the lake were too romantic and inspirational. Then when he performed the Arabian dance from Nutcracker in front of his whole school... I was so proud of him. And weirded-out by his beer-bellied former great ballet teacher's take on The Nutcracker. But whatever.

TrimSpaAnna Nicole. Oh my god, girl. Eat something. You were looking really good for a while there. But now you're a too-thin, big blond head on top of an itty-bitty body. Mangia. Come. Eat. Please.