Gwyneth — she's not just like us!

I’ve tried to like Gwyneth Paltrow. Really, I have.

When I first heard news of baby Moses, I didn’t scoff or criticize. I struggled to remember the good times. I tried to remind myself of her many likable qualities.

Her hair is blonde and silky, for one. What's not to like about that? And she was adorable in “Shakespeare in Love.” (Remember Joe Fiennes, ardently kissing her little faux-‘stache?) And although I did not see that stewardess movie, it did look plenty cute and colorful and kitschy, like something I truly might have enjoyed. Sure, some people call her a snob, but my friends call me a snob when I suggest restaurants with waiters, so perhaps it’s all relative.

Still, when it comes down to it, the birth of Moses brings me back to a few inescapable facts. There are simply some eternal counterpoints to the silky hair and the ‘stache and the fun stewardess movie, items that burrow inside my head and, though I struggle valiantly, repeatedly turn my lukewarm somewhat-liking of Gwyneth into cold, steely resentment.

Fact: Gwyneth Paltrow is the kind of girl who ditched sixth-grade slumber parties so she could be fresh for early morning equestrian lessons.

Fact: Were you to invite Gwyneth Paltrow over for lunch, she would bring her own macrobiotic food in Tupperware containers, decline your silverware and tell you that your new pants are "slimming."

Fact: Gwyneth Paltrow thinks you're immature for still laughing at “Brokeback Mountain” jokes.

In short, whatever the glossy celeb magazines may tell you, Gwyneth is not “just like us.”

I’ll admit that I had hopes of Gwyneth being just like me a few weeks ago, when the tabloids splashed her prenatal imbibing all over their covers — “Celebrities! They drink while pregnant!” After all, doing something bad and getting in trouble for it is the great human equalizer.

If only someone told us ...
But before I could say, “Gwyneth, you naughty little boozehound!,” reassure her that I sometimes chase antibiotics with a beer against doctor’s orders and wait for her to schedule a self-effacing turn on “Saturday Night Live,” she shakes her finger at me, informs me that having a Guinness is what all the knocked-up Europeans are doing. The iron is good for the baby. If more Americans traveled to the Continent we would know that. And, by the by, why are we Americans so puritanical? And provincial? And obsessed with celebrities in general? Is it because we’re so fat? Gwyneth hates to say it, but she thinks that might have a lot to do with it.

And look. It has happened again, I'm back in the hateful place.

Fact: Gwyneth Paltrow knows that she can kick back a handle of Jägermeister every night and still produce a child better-looking and smarter than your own.

I really thought I was getting to like Gwyneth back in 2000. That’s when it became clear that — despite that vanilla, to-the-manor-born exterior — she had made the rounds of Hollywood’s frat boys like a 40 oz. down on the Greenpoint docks.

From Brad Pitt to Ben Affleck to Luke Wilson, it was a delight to watch Gwyn date. Brad called her his “angel.” They wore matching hairstyles. And you just know that Ben called home and said, “Ma, I’m seeing a real lady.”

When each relationship inevitably crumbled, I waited for Gwyneth to be “just like me.” To show up at Brad’s house, tear-stained and wearing footie pajamas. Or perhaps drunk-dial Oprah, or rebound with someone wildly inappropriate — like Flavor Flav.

MORE FROM CELEBRITIES

Celebrities Section Front

Tony and Jessica: What went wrong? New kid on the block: Joey McIntyre to be a dad Artie Lange pleads not guilty to DUI Self-destructive stars seem to shine brighter Jessica Simpson and Tony Romo break up It’s official: Robert Plant outranks Jimmy Page Paris Hilton insists she plugged sorority movie Swedish papers plan Britney photo boycott Jason Priestley and wife welcome a baby boy Kate Gosselin to attend Calif. women’s forum Celebrities Section Front   Add Celebrities headlines to your news reader: