The romantic event of the summer is here! Julia Roberts together again with Richard Gere in "Runaway Bride"! A woman afraid of commitment, finally tamed by a tenacious journalist with heart of gold and a "nice butt" (at least according to Julia's granny in the film)! Love conquers all! Is it hot in here or am I about to throw up?

Who asked for this re-pairing, I ask you? Who? Did you? Shame and destruction on the household who came up with this horrid film!

If you're looking for the perfect date movie this summer, then my pick is either "The Blair Witch Project," which will scare your mate right into your arms, or "The Haunting," which is so unfrightening that you and your love can bond by laughing. Seriously, I know a couple who went to see this film and had such a wonderful time making fun of it that they actually became engaged shortly after seeing it! (That may have been a coincidence, but I love the concept of Catherine Zeta-Jones bringing people together.)

Jet Zeta-rs

Speaking of that impossibly beautiful one, Cathy's been seen in the Hamptons this week unfortunately attached with her old sour beau Michael Douglas. Yes, lament, for they're really a couple! The Daily News reports that the uniformly thin couple were dinner guests of "Margaritaville" crooner Jimmy Buffett at his flat in Northhampton and were also party crashers of Jann Wenner, lord of Rolling Stone Magazine. Things are getting so serious for the two that word was circulating that Cath had even introduced Mike to her parents (presumably Zeta and Jones, but who knows with these Welsh people?) As you frequent G-Spot readers know, I'm a huge fan of Cat ZT and have been greatly disturbed by this pairing, as Michael's film depictions infer he's a bit of a sleaze and quite below her league. I'm willing to believe she fancies older men but, honey, why not somebody like your Entrapment co-star Sean Connery? Anyway, if you're in love, dear, then I'll get over it.

By the way, she's got the best line in "The Haunting": when Lili Taylor comments her on her new leather boots, she sassily purrs, "They're Prada. Paris, not New York." When the best moment of a horror film is a discussion on couture, you know something's screwy.

My New Neighbors

Another foxy lady is heading to New York, and this one's here to stay! Imagine leaving to go to work one morning and seeing moving men bring boxes into the apartment next to yours. "Wonderful! I think I'll meet the new neighbors!" Fully expecting a quiet young family, you plunge into the apartment to meet the little lady of the house ... only to be confronted with Amanda from "Melrose Place"! Before you can say a word, she sleeps with you, throws you out, and then tries to kill you, all in a mini-skirt the size of a wristband.

Well, one lucky New Yorker will be experiencing this as Heather Locklear and Ricky Sambora move into a Park Avenue penthouse next month, so that Locklear can be closer to her new job at "Spin City." Heather's afraid of heights -- ironically, as she often wears those two-story heels -- so all I know is she's not movin' on up to a de-luxe apartment too far in the sky. Welcome to the city, darling. Stop by the HoJo for your G-Spot welcome-wagon martini and cheese fries. They're on me!

Daddy Longlegs

Puff Daddy's new album comes out this month -- "new" here meaning "a fresh assortment of ripped off samples and bad raps" -- and already he's sliced a swath of havok as a sort of unorthodox marketing campaign that most rappers feel is necessary for success. Fresh off the plane from Paris, Puff sped to get some action from his sometime girlfriend Jennifer Lopez, only to find the barely-ethnic Latina with her sometime boyfriend/BG's dreamtime boyfriend Marc Anthony. Puff huffed and, er, puffed but stormed out instead of causing an altercation. (He's learned his lesson since breaking the arm of a music exec a couple months ago.) As he would have kicked Marc's slender little ass, I'm grateful that the Puff showed a little restraint.

He did catch up with her later at her birthday party in the West Village, which was attended by Derek Jeter, Marc Anthony (still unscathed), and Leo D. the party freak. Lopez and PD were really close during the festivities and eventually left for a romantic walk outside. (Leo was, as usual, boozing it up inside until his former friend David Blaine, the Magic Man!, popped in. Leo and crew made a hasty retreat at his entrance. Leo leave a party? Why, Dave, that is magic!)

Anyhoo, all this, despite the fact that Puff The Magic Dragon still insists that Lopez is just a friend. Okay, Daddy, maybe, but why have you then disengaged from your other honey, model Kim Porter, the mother of your child Christian? For the sake of the child, the two are still communicating, though Le Puff has driven Porter to live in Georgia as he goes about the city canoodling with whomever he chooses. He insists through a press rep that Porter will be moving back to New York and live with him in his renovated Park Avenue apartment (maybe it's next to Heather?) when its finished. Porter, baby, a word: a baby needs his daddy, but this baby don't need this Daddy. He's a party animal; do you want your child exposed to wild Hamptons bacchanals and arguments with Jennifer Lopez?

Minor Sightings

Since this one happened in Boston, feels like the sight-ee should have been someone from The Practice, but nonetheless, Sam Waterston was spotted eating dinner with his family (remember Jamie from Dead Poets' Society?) at Stephanie's on Newbury St. Our spy reports that he had apricot and blueberry cobbler, but more than that, we can't tell you.

BG herself had, if you can believe it, an even less eventful sighting: she walked by Brian Unger of The Daily Show on Broadway the other day. That is really it. On the bright side, if it had been Jon Stewart, you all would have like nine more paragraphs to read about how great BG thinks he is.

Sorry to cut it short, kids. I'm off to Los Angeles for an extra-special G-Spot report next week. Just wait until you hear what I'll be doing. It involves Roma Downey, a Jacuzzi on the roof, the fall television season and my ode to River Phoenix. Plus, I've got lots more party sightings of Leonardo (or as I call him when I whisper sweetly in his ear, "Nardo") who apparently really is partying like its 1999.

Until the end of the world, sugarpuffs,
Gregoire

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