I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I didn’t know until last night that Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake were even a couple, let alone planning a wedding. (And yes, I’m a tad embarrassed to admit that I’m embarrassed for not knowing that.)

It’s not that I care about either of them in particular–I can take or leave her, and him I just flat-out can’t stand (how on earth do grown women find him attractive?! Ew.)–but I like to think I’m reasonably well-informed when it comes to goings-on in the entertainment world. Celebrity gossip has always been one of my favorite guilty pleasures. Time was, I was an avid reader of People and In Style and, of course, Rolling Stone. I had my ear to the ground and always had the latest dirt on all the stars.

As with so many other things, that all changed when I moved to Sweden. It’s not that there aren’t gossip rags here, but their focus is completely different from those in the States. Really, I couldn’t care less about Mette-Marit’s fashion faux pas or Svennis’s sordid love affairs, and for the love of all things holy, spare me any more tidbits about Posh and Becks. What I want to know is how did Liv Tyler get to be seven months pregnant without me getting wind of it?!