Though I try to be ostentatiously indifferent to celebrity, I’ve lately found myself scanning Gawker headlines like an old lady craving baby-gossip.

It’s not the copulation of people I don’t know that’s attracting me, I swear (though I’m aware of Violet, seeing as she destroyed my favorite T.V. show).

My official excuse for gawking is that I work in the biz that’s the subject of half of their gossip, “the media.” Unofficially, I’ve found that Gawker’s cynicism is the perfect anecdote to guilty side glances at stories I really shouldn’t be wasting my time with.

Besides corrupting my mind with celebrebabble, Gawker is giving me a very tardy entrée to the world of New York weblogs. LittlePants has been scouring Curbed for some time. I tried it, thought it was funny, but it just didn’t take. (Sorry, Lock.)

But Pants doesn’t like Gawker. So we’re basically reading the weblogs that are the opposites of ourselves. Or maybe we’re each reading the ’logs that the other would be writing if we were real divas like Steele and Coen.

Are we dating the weblogs we read? I do get pretty jealous when Leland laughs at Curbed. But I’m definitely not going out with boingboing. Gross.

Probably has all kinds of piercings under its wicca robes.

LATE BREAKING: People to publish a special celebrity babies issue. Old ladies everywhere rejoice!