You'll be happy to know that Paula Abdul has perfected the 48-hour day, something she calls "Paula Time!" Near as I can figure, that means doing normal amounts of things, but acting like they're super intense and terrifying, all the time. Like, tonight she's got the Grammys, and then a hop to Philly for her QVC jewelry show. Which is taking place like 24 hours later, at 1 AM the next night, but is still somehow a feat of death-defying agility. The way she describes all this is exhausting, yes, but then so is her habit of calling her dogs her "four furry kids."

Lest we underestimate the depth of Paula's loneliness, we are introduced to her staff: a severely over-surgeried gay buddy slash hairdresser slash...Wildenstein; some girl with a hundred-million-dollar bracelet, the four furry kids, and...I actually, I don't know if she knows any of these people. Mostly they stand around staring at the camera and wondering if she's going to do anything. She's not going to do anything. Actually, she might just think they're on her staff and really they're just concerned passersby. Then one of her dogs eats a diamond ring and she reaches down its throat laughing hysterically. That is literally the only interesting thing that happens the entire time. It's gross yet boring.

Paula designed the costumes and jewelry for the Bratz movie she's producing. I'll say it again. Paula designed the costumes and jewelry for the Bratz movie she's producing.

She gets dressed with the help of those fifteen kind strangers who have wandered into her house. The dresses she looks at are all fucking gorgeous -- I've always mostly enjoyed her style -- but for some reason she picks the least flattering one, a boob-flattening Valentino number that would look good if she weren't three feet tall.

She tells the camera about what a diva Daniel is, and whatever, but his face is so scary I can't even handle it! They do her makeup for three hours and then Paula apologizes to the housemaid for her dogs' dogshit, but blames it on her scary stylist guy. As in, she claims that her stylist has taken a dump in the yard. You know what's patronizing? Telling people who clean things how sorry you are that they have to clean things. "Sorry I think your job is demeaning!" I hate that. That's so Paula too, though.