In Vancouver we are 3 hours behind. So when Duana emailed me last night wanting to participate in a group squeal over John Krasinski after watching the new episode of The Office, I’d yet to see what she was gushing about. And I had forgotten to set the time shift PVR.

Half an hour later, Michelle emailed…virtually the same message.

I subsequently told both of them I didn’t have time for their adolescent lameassness and to leave me alone. Michelle confidently wrote back, still giddy from her crushing, that I would be grovelling in no time.

Cut to me at 9:29pm Pacific hugging a pillow and clapping like a f*cking Oprah fan. Then I grabbed the blackberry and apologised.

Because last night, John’s Jim was the cutest thing in the history of cute. Cute withOUT being precious. It’s the best thing ever.


Both Du and Michelle seem convinced that it will not last. That television dictates that there will be drama. That iconic primetime romances must go through hurdles. That heartache is on the way.

Duana is a screenwriter. She knows of these things. Stupid Duana screenwriter.


On the happier note, this is John being John going through an airport last week, trying to avoid the paps by pretending to be busy on his blackberry. Those shoes. Every time I see him he’s wearing those shoes. It’s what makes John Krasinski, non? He knows who he is.

Photos from