pollack.

After reading on McSweeney's yesterday that Neal Pollack was going to receive a prominent mention on last night's episode of Dawson's Creek, I decided I'd better tune in to see what the fuss was about.

He was mentioned, as a back-of-the-book reviewer of some professor's book, and he was called the Greatest Living Writer of our Something-or-other. Yadda yadda, patcherownback, thanks.

Now I'll admit (proudly!), I wasn't paying the closest attention. I'm making wedding invitations these days and TV's been excellent background entertainment. Making one of something is fun and feels creative. Making 80 of something requires nothing but good resistance to RSIs. Still, I'm so very pleased and excited about what's coming out of this little project. My wedding will also be my first real foray into graphic design (I'm discounting anything I made previously that required Elmer's Glue and glitter) and I'm just beside myself with awe when it comes to my own creativity.

(Please, like you've never stared into your own navel and thought it could use a little more sparkle...)

But anyway, what I really want to talk about is Pacey, the wacky boat-dwelling recluse chef. The one who slept with his ex-girlfriend after she offered him a trip around the world with her father. Why was he packing if he decided not to take the trip? You know, at the end. Right before the feel-good moment of the week, when all of his friends showed up to tell him how great he was. That slutty blond girl waitress walked in and he was packing. She interrupted him. Then she dragged him outside and surprise! The friends got all rhapsodic about how they'd miss him, and then surprise! He announced he wasn't leaving. Help?

No, really. Help. I know you saw it. I can't be the only one.