Alanis Morrissette is gorgeous and genius, if a tad needy, and her ex Ryan Reynolds is a vapid lump of bad actor who never deserved her. Which is why what happened at her listening party the other night is so awesome. "'Every time I go through something difficult, I think, this is the mother load. I'm not going to get through this one,' Alanis Morissette said last night during an intimate performance in New York. 'And then six months later I'm like, what's his name again?' And with that, the journal-spewing Queen of '90s Rock quashed any rumors that she was heartbroken over her ex-fiancé Ryan Reynolds' recent engagement to Tom Waits admirer Scarlett Johansson."

It's a long holiday weekend, so perhaps by Tuesday there'll be nothing left to say about former Gawker editor Emily Gould's extensive New York Times Magazine cover story about sleeping with people and blogging about it and having panic attacks on bathroom floors? No? Well, in any case, The Huffington Post's Rachel Sklar, a Canadian, provides a tasty summary of the essay and the ensuing media cluster-fuck. "This was an extended blog post, an overlong 'Modern Love' essay, 7,937 words that did not venture beyond the author's own experience; for some perspective, the NYT's investigative expose on the Pentagon's purported ties to on-air military analysts had 7,486). And for what?"

Oh hey, it's me, your weekend guy (Who's now on the masthead! Yahee!). So I went to the first showing today of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, because how could I not? And I thought I would tell you what I thought of it, without spoilers. I am not a film expert, and certainly not a critic, but I am all full of Indy right now, so, if you're interested, here's what I think.

Popular Page Six gossip hack Paula Froelich had a party thrown in her honor last night, complete with her own signature cocktail: the IZZE FROLIC. Awww! She sent an email to all of her contacts saying, "It seems someone has decided to name a drink after me. I think we can use it as a good excuse to go play." But when the party happened, one boldface name was conspicuously absent: New York Post reporter Paula Froelich! So what happened? Bothersome ethics, of course.

The Times metro section ran a story this morning about Joe Armstrong, and how he's "the Mayor" of Michael's, the media power-lunch sport, and a ubiquitous presence there and friends with all the regulars and, according to Carly Simon, "probably the most loved person in New York." It was the same sort of atmospheric, getting-to-know-your-city type column the same writer did on Nikola Tamindzic, our own nightlife photographer. Fair enough! Armstrong was publisher at New York, Rolling Stone, Saveur and was involved to a lesser extent with a bevy of other publications, like Harper's Bazaar and USA Today. He's on sabbatical from ABC News and has been doing charity work for the past two years. He's still well-connected, the Times insisted. As if to underscore this point, the Post, this same morning, ran a friendly item on Page Six about a pin Armstrong wore, tongue-in-cheek, to a book party: "the image of John McCain hugging President Bush under the words, 'Four More Years!'" I hate to say this about someone so beloved but, Joe, if you can get this much coverage just, you know, hanging out, maybe consider a career in PR. Or as an editor-at-large for Star! They pay six figures for doing basically nothing, and we could probably make an introduction. (Photo via Trinity University)

Last month, Page Six ran an item about a sex tape featuring Bam Margera Bam-ing the fiancee of radio shock jock Opie. Opie said the whole thing was false, and offered $100,000 to anyone who could produce the tape. A couple of weeks later the Post ran a retraction of the item—but laid the blame at the feet of Steppin' Out editor Chaunce Hayden, who they said gave them the bad info in the first place. Well Chaunce Hayden, unrepentant media whore, wouldn't let such a thing pass without turning it into a feud! And he helpfully forwarded on the snippy emails between himself and Page Six boss Richard Johnson. Watch out for flying spittle!

The Post's Keith Kelly reports on how the literati at Random House are reacting to their new, German technocrat overlord: with abject terror. "People are panicking and saying it couldn't be worse... On the face of it, it looks like the guy is a complete production bean counter. It doesn't look hopeful that he'll share the romantic idea of literature and publishing." Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal elicited this tart quote from Bertelsmann CEO Hartmut Ostrowski on the departure of the previous Random House chief, Peter Olson, who recently recovered from a rough bout with pneumonia: "He wanted a new life, and we agreed." Cold.

At left is the top of an interview with Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez filed by Charlotte Hall, Editor of the Orlando Sentinel and President of the American Society Of Newspaper Editors. Other editors who recently accompanied Hall to Venezuela, like Marty Baron of the Boston Globe and Margaret Sullivan of the Buffalo News, led their stories with unflattering facts about Chavez, like recently-autheticated evidence he sought to supply missiles to Colombian rebels, his country's skyrocketing homicide rate and a rebuke in a December national referendum. Hall, in contrast, introduced her story with a series of anecdotes supplied by Chavez himself, descriptions of his clothing and a button he used to summon coffee, plus the observation that he kissed female editors on their cheeks. This fluffy treatment, and Hall's sycophantic smiling in the accompanying photo, we hear, horrified some in the Sentinel newsroom, particularly among those who already regarded the editor as a "clueless" transplant from the tabloid Newsday.

Oh, excellent: Designer Marc Jacobs has taken his love life gloriously downmarket again! He's back with former rentboy and longtime on-again off-again squeeze Jason Preston, according to Page Six, whose tipster spotted the couple "at Pastis Saturday, looking 'very much together, laughing and kissing...'They were overheard saying they'd missed one another during their separation." We were just saying last week that the fellow Jacobs turned up with at the Custome Institute Gala, an "emotionally grounded" Italian advertising executive, wasn't sufficiently scandal-prone for our taste. Let the threesomes and emotional drama resume again! Or perhaps not. Recall that Jacobs recently switched his Facebook status to no longer read "in an open relationship," while Preston switched his to "in a relationship." A sign of the newfound stability to come, perhaps. Either that or Preston phoned the tip into Page Six himself, and Jacobs is sticking with the hunky Italian as common sense would dictate. [Post]

So Katie Holmes' long-running negotiations to come to Broadway have finally borne fruit, and the wife of Tom Cruise is now officially committed to take on some sort of role in a revival of Arthur Miller's All My Sons this fall. The Church of Scientology is a just a few blocks away from the theater, the Observer noted, and at least one tabloid report has hubby Tom tagging along for the duration of Holmes' season in New York, presumably in case she needs some more reprogramming. Holmes, meanwhile, is intent on escaping Cruise's shadow and reinvigorating her acting career. And maybe, you know, saving a few accident victims around town, since there's no one else who can really do anything. [Variety via Observer]

The Times' Alessandra Stanley weighs in on the frightening phenomenon: "'Gossip Girl' goes further than most shows in depicting the excesses of the rich and under-age (in this fantasy teenagers are never carded), but most of all it represents the next evolutionary stage of girl power television after 'Sex and the City.' That pioneering HBO series, and the movie version that comes out later this month, celebrates girlish women who joined forces - 'Us against the world'- in the pursuit of success and happiness."

Yesterday marked the merger of two rising lieutenants in Manhattan's Media Mafia as The New York Observer's Spencer Morgan and Vanity Fair executive fashion editor Alexis Bryan were married in Houston. But just who are these two newlyweds, really?

"First Supermodel" Janice Dickinson favored some lucky Page Sixer with one of her patented over-sharing meltdowns the other day. Apparently, Dickinson carries around a photo she tore from a gossip rag showing fellow former model/talk show host Tyra Banks holding a copy of Dickinson's book, No Lifeguard on Duty. "Dickinson showed us the torn-out magazine photo with a caption saying Banks was on her way to speak with young girls and offer her advice. 'And she's using my book, Dickinson fumed. 'I mean, the thing looks so worn it's like she's been reading it on the toilet. It's pathetic. Where's her originality? Does she have no shame?' Dickinson, who's in talks with NBC for her own chat show, said she'll invite Banks on to confront her."

Jessica Simpson's cuter sister Ashlee and Fall Out Boy bassist Pete Wentz wed yesterday at the Simpson compound in Encino, CA. "The service had an 'Alice in Wonderland' theme. Joe Simpson performed a non-denominational ceremony for his 23-year-old daughter and her 28-year-old groom, [People] magazine reported. Ashlee's sister, Jessica, who recently split from Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo, was in attendance, along with mom Tina Simpson." [ABC]

Okay, I don't know who these people are or what on earth they're talking about, but apparently even adults watch Gossip Girl on the CW network. Hell, I still watch Smallville! So here's a clip from tomorrow's show.

Gal-about-town and soap star Leven Rambin is officially legal today. But take note, Hud Morgan, Mark Ronson and all the other lounge-leaping, boozy 30-something-and-older NYC dudes who think they should get some of the little starlet starting now. She's still a teenager and it's still fucking gross guys! Seriously! Update: I'm being told Hud Morgan is still a shade under 30. Know what, though? Still not really a mitigating factor. Date a freaking grown-up, everyone.

Despite looking slightly, vaguely puffy in some recent photos, Britney Spears is not expecting a third kid. "U.S. pop singer Britney Spears says she is not pregnant for a third time despite recent photographs showing her with a bloated stomach. The 'Toxic' singer says a new medication she is taking was responsible for her recent weight gain and not a third pregnancy, the Daily Mail reported Saturday. 'I am not pregnant — it is just my medication that makes me bloated,' Spears said of recent pregnancy rumors. A source close to the 'Baby One More Time' star told the British newspaper Spears has struggled with her weight since the birth of her 20-month-old son Jayden James. Meanwhile, a friend of Spears said she is spending some time with actor Mel Gibson and his wife in Central America to help her gain some perspective in her life."

Serenity/Firefly and Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon's upcoming Fox series Dollhouse is profiled today at Entertainment Weekly. And there's new video from the pilot. Eliza Dushku! "Dollhouse follows Dushku's Echo, a mysterious agent with no identity except for the personalities imprinted on her and then deleted by her employer depending on the wishes and needs of wealthy clients. Between assignments, Echo lives inside a cushy secret HQ with other blank-slate dolls in a state of oblivious, hyper-healthy bliss...though as the series unfolds, she's starting to remember stuff she shouldn't." Video after the jump.

Slowly healing pop tart Britney Spears is reportedly vacationing at Mel Gibson's ranch in Costa Rica. (Ew! He's old!) Anyhoo, this is what she looks like in a bikini lately. I wanna go to the beach too! Waaah!

So why did magnificent hottie Karen Allen pretty much disappear off the face of the earth after Animal House and Raiders of the Lost Ark before finally returning for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull? (Starman doesn't count!) "[A]t some point she went to go knit in the Berkshire Mountains. There was also a marriage followed nine years later by divorce, and single motherhood that would, in concert with the dwindling Hollywood career and the shock of 9/11, prompt her to quit Manhattan permanently for the Berkshires. She had done summer theater in Stockbridge, Mass.; she felt at home there. With her Hollywood money she'd purchased an 18th century barn and remade it; the place came with its own beaver pond, and Allen added a hot tub. She cleared the attic of bats and made it into a master suite with its own sunken bath and office." But now she's back! Yay!