Catherine Hate-Her Jones

I have decided that in addition to garlic, Old Bay seasoning, and certain seafoods, I have one more pregnancy-related aversion: Catherine Zeta-Jones.

I just don't enjoy her anymore. Not that I ever particularly did, but she never used to bother me. I remember years ago when she was on the Rosie show, I almost sort of liked her, with her dark shiny eyes--there was a cuteness about her. I did like the first Zorro movie; she was borderline entertaining as a prissy diva star in America's Sweethearts. And I didn't even care when she began whoring herself out to T-Mobile. I thought it was weird, yes, but then Joan Cusack was doing the same thing for US Cellular, and Harry Connick, Jr. for SunCom, so I just assumed it was becoming a new norm, and that was fine. Sad, but fine. There are worse commercials.

And I never really cared that she was married to old man Michael Douglas, or that she was involved in that stalker lawsuit--like, who would stalk a star, much less Catherine Zeta-Jones? How boring. I guess overall, I just never really thought twice about Catherine Zeta-Jones, one way or the other.

Then recently, randomly, she started to get under my skin. I can't say I particularly loathe her--certainly not as much as Old Bay seasoning. Or Mr. Peepers, or... Carrot Top. I can't say I would willingly devote that much energy to the cause. But I really can't stand the sight of her. I don't want anything to do with the Zorro sequel, I would never sign up for T-Mobile, just on principle, and after this past weekend's Saturday Night Live? Blyech. I would rather eat a big fat garlic clove, plain. No skit was funny, aside from Weekend Update, and this is sad, because SNL recently has been getting a lot better, I think. There are lately a lot fewer skits where you're just like...wha? Or where you're sitting there, slack-jawed with eyes glazed over, plain bored or uncomfortable and embarassed that a particularly flat skit seems like it will never end. However, SNL with Catherine Zeta-Jones brought it all back, with every skit. Or at least 80 percent of the skits, which is all I got through before I decided that a) an hour of my life had been lost forever and b) my time would be better spent deconstructing the psychological trainwreck that is Danny Bonaducci.

Besides that she's unfunny, I'm not even sure what the problem is. Just like Old Bay--is it the celery salt? So seemingly benign, yet so deeply offensive. I don't know. I just know that I plan to stay far, far away from both until such time that I don't run from the room with my Vomit Face on in reaction to the sight of either.