"It's going to be a salon; I hope my apartment can be a place that Alpha Kitties, men and women who are interesting in New York, will want to come by, shoot videos together, and just hang out, figure out how to do interesting things together," former Seventeen editor Atoosa Rubenstein tells the Observer of her plans for the 3,007 square foot loft she and her financier husband just snagged for the bargain price of $3.07 million. Her salon will, of course, also double as a temple to the domestic arts: "I wanted to focus on building a home again," hence that comment about cooking for her DH. All of which begs the question: what the hell is an Alpha Kitty supposed to be, anyway? She's a businessperson, but she's a housewife! She's "men and women who are interesting in New York"? Wait... wasn't she was supposed to be a teenage girl? 'Toosing and turning in confusion, we did a little research.

You know that foreboding raven adorning the placeholder page at former Seventeen editor Atoosa Rubenstein's atoosa.com domain? It turns out that the bird has been lying to us when he says "This is just the beginning." "I think there's this misconception that I'm starting a web magazine," the 'Toos told blogger Fashionista, who smooched her butt to an almost bizarre extent. "But that's not really it! Though maybe there will be some video programs that we start playing with." No web magazine? Some video programs? This is how a child who has been expecting a retarded pony for Christmas feels after learning that she will receive a retarded kitten instead.

Everyone's fave former magazine editor turned MySpace cult leader (today: her relationship with God!) is looking for an intern. Do you have what it takes to get a "stipend" from the 'Toos?

Blogs everyone's fave former Seventeen editor turned MySpace cult leader:

At the end of last week, as the chaos swirled over which network would land the post-jail interview with Paris Hilton, and for how much money, and which network was denying most stridently that it had offered her cash, Hilton's new "crisis manager" Mike Sitrick gave a statement to the press. "Contrary to media reports," he said, "Paris Hilton is not being paid for any television interview nor is Paris Hilton being paid for any collateral material, including videos or photos."

One of 35-year-old Atoosa Rubenstein's army of teenaged galpals posed this intriguing question on her MySpace: "When do you feel most beautiful?" Chloe says that she feels most beautiful "right after washing my face. I am not sure why, but I feel like my impurities and masks are washed away, revealing my true alpha kitty self." Wow, how empowering! Or how like a Biore ad! As for the 'Toos, she feels most beautiful "when I consistently make healthy food choices instead of filling myself up with crap food (like I did last night - went out to Cowgirl (website) in the West Village with a big group of friends and I inhaled too much onion loaf, fries and a big steak fajita. At least I drew the line at the corn dogs I was totally eyeing...). When I eat well, I know I'm treating my body (and in turn, myself) with the respect I deserve. Alpha Kitties should be worshipped - including by ourselves!" Ok, GOTCHA.

When Do You Feel Most Beautiful? [ToosSpace]

You will die. This is a piece about the home decor of "alpha kitties." It is headlined "Fierce by day and all frills by night." Oh wow. [LAT]

We have to apologize for not informing you sooner about the startling innovation that our beloved 'Toos has added to her MySpace queendom: 40-second long clips of her on-camera insights. She's mastering another platform every time we turn around, it seems! Sort of. Here, she explains why being into fashion doesn't make you shallow (for the record, it's because "fashion is a costume... I mean, all the world's a play").

Atoosa Rubenstein still has a bone to pick with the Grey Lady, and it wasn't good enough just to complain to Forbes readers. She also needed to tell her MySpace pals!

Crushing disappointment alert, Alpha Kitties: Atoosa Rubenstein may want to help you, but she's not about to actually, like, help you.

We know that Atoosa Rubenstein wishes the Times had "more color and less words," but how does she feel about The New Yorker? Perhaps some insight can be found in her latest MySpace post, in which she writes, for a change, about how she believes in her dreams and you should too. "The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho is my guidebook to life. I'll probably talk about it again, but something about it reminded me of what we talked about last week regarding us being Alpha Kitties — girls who follow their dreams," she says before quoting that book, which is like The Celestine Prophecy crossed with The Secret, but dumber, at length.

"I have spent the last decade eating... uh... I mean reading, sweets exclusively. One might even say I'm addicted. Before I drink my morning sugar-free (ironic) Red Bull, I've already gobbled up The New York Post (horoscopes first, Page Six second) and Women's Wear Daily's Memo Pad column. Then, I pretty much subsist on MySpace—the micro-media Lothario that stole me away from the old man—with jolts of Perez Hilton when things get too sweet. (He is my Sour Patch Kid.)" That's the digital impresario Atoosa Rubenstein, whose new job is telling the fogeys who read Forbes.com how to understand the internet tubes.

• We love it when People Photoshops out those Us Weekly backgrounds behind Lindsay Lohan!
  

Lower East Side bloggerbar Lolita had a decidedly high school-ish vibe last night—a generation of ladies whose lives were so changed by Sassy magazine that they grew up to work in the media gathered there to fete the publication of Marisa Meltzer and Kara Jesella's book about that seminal teen mag. Doree and Emily were there. So was Atoosa Rubenstein.

Hello, and welcome to the stream—make that majestic gushing river— of former Seventeen editor Atoosa Rubenstein's consciousness. Today, you might want to wear your life preserver! "What a week, huh? And the media has been making it worse! All the airings of the killer's video were just pouring salt into the wound of our nation. I can't imagine how the families of the victims felt. My heart is with them forever. But my beef with the media extends beyond their coverage of the tragedy. What did you think about the Alec Baldwin voicemail message that's been going around the internet?" Whoa, hold onto your oars! We're about to make a hairpin turn towards some even choppier waters.

This morning outside Penn Station, some young fellows were distributing fake anti-promotional literature "protesting" the new high speed Europe rail system. (Paris to Frankfurt in under four hours!) First of all: Ooh, fake negative ad campaign. Second: Are commuters from Lynbrook and Bayshore really the target market for RailEurope promotions? (Paging Long Island's Atoosa Rubenstein!) But really we're not sure they can afford the exchange rate. And finally: Why is Europe fucking with us and our asstacular and sad—yet pridefully, pants-pockets-tearingly American!—trains? Fine, so Luxembourg to Paris is 231 miles and their new train takes 2 hours and 5 minutes; Manhattan to East Hampton is 103 miles and it takes nearly 3 hours on the LIRR. But unlike France, at least we have our international reputation to keep us warm at night. Oh and we get to drink Coors on our trains, so there.

When I find myself in times of trouble, Alpha Kitty comes to me, speaking words of wisdom:

I am going to use this column to do something I will never be able to do again—convey my first impressions of intensive Gawker-reading. Until I was asked to consider taking on this job, I had been only a casual reader, mainly clicking on the Stalker map to track the whereabouts of Kelly Ripa (Kelly: I know you love me! Why do you insist on playing these games?). Since that day, I have read more Gawker than is typical of any but the fruitlessly employed and Kurt Eichenwald's lawyer.

• Can Don Imus maintain his moneymaking capabilities? 'Cause otherwise he's just some loudmouth hick in a hat. [NYT]
  

Prominent media figures are climbing over each other to offer their opinions on the Imus affair, but, until now, we had yet to hear from one of the most important voices of the age. It was worth the wait.