We've read stories on how celebrities influence us. We've read stories on how we're growing more obsessed with how we look. We've even read stories on how celebrities affect that obsession. But I've never read a story quite like this.

There's a woman in China (London's Daily Mail just calls her Xiaoqing) who desperately wants to reunite with her boyfriend. No news there, right? What's she doing ... sending him flowers? Texting him sweet messages?

Of course not. No, Xiaoqing plans to undergo a bevy of plastic surgery procedures so she can look exactly like Jessica Alba.

Seems her boyfriend has a thing for the Fantastic Four starlet, and he loved it when Xiaoqing would make herself look as much like Alba as she could. The boyfriend even bought Xiaoqing a blond wig to wear. But eventually, Xiaoqing decided she'd rather look more like herself, so she dumped the wig. And he dumped her.

Now Xiaoqing wants him back, and she's willing to undergo a slew of cosmetic surgical procedures to make herself into her beau's dream girl. Doctors say it's possible for her to get the look she wants, though not necessarily advisable. All those cosmetic cuts and incisions and stitches? It can be dangerous and it'll be certainly irreversible, they tell her.

No matter, Xiaoqing says.

"I'm not only doing it for my ex-boyfriend but for myself," she tells the Mail. "I am a psychologically weak person. I want to do something to challenge myself and build a strong personality through it."

Is there, perhaps, a tinge of irony here that she's going about this psychological overhaul by becoming someone else? And someone who played The Invisible Woman, at that?

Avatar

So, with all that money floating around (so to speak), lots of folks are trying to capitalize on Avatar's success—and that includes the government of China.

In an effort to pull in some fresh tourist coin, folks in the Zhangiajie province of China have renamed a picturesque pillar of rock "Avatar Hallelujah Mountain." The striking geological feature, which had previously been called "Southern Sky Column," is reported to have been an inspiration for Avatar's magnificent floating chunks of rock (though, it should be noted, the Chinese version is rooted firmly to the ground).

"Pandora is far but Zhangjiajie is near," the province's official website proclaims. According to Reuters, tourists can sign up for a "Magical Tour to Avatar-Pandora."

Some may be surprised that China would scrap a perfectly good name simply to capitalize on a successful film. But really, we're all about making a buck these days, and I think it's a trend that might catch on.

Perhaps vast swaths of barren New Mexico, where The Book of Eli was filmed, could be renamed "Eli's Post Apocalyptic Plains." Maybe the owners of the Baltimore Ravens could rename the team "The Blind Siders" and slap a picture of Sandra Bullock on the team helmet. Maybe all of London could redub itself "Sherlock Holmesville"—at least until the next big movie to feature the city comes along ("Wolfmanburg?"). The possibilities are endless.

Personally, I can't wait to go to Home Depot and buy me a specially marketed, retractable "Extraordinary Measurer."

I never thought I'd say this, but thank goodness for

But with that in mind, what movie should we talk about today? Legion earned $18.2 million—enough to push it past the still strong The Book of Eli for second place—but anyone who's seen Legion is likely in counseling (trying to expunge the memory, you know). The Tooth Fairy, the latest kiddie fare from Dwayne Johnson, made a respectable $14.5 million to pull itself to fourth place (Pull? Get it?). But once you get past the film's messages of family, perseverance and good oral hygiene, is there anything left to talk about?

Extraordinary Measures made just $7 million at the gate for a seventh-place finish—not strong enough to give me an excuse to ramble about how I interviewed Brendan Fraser, and how we chatted for 15 minutes, and how you can read the interview at Plugged In in a few days, and how he invited to me to lunch afterward (OK, I made that last part up. See what Legion has done to my brain?)

It'd be great to talk more about To Save A Life, which came in 15th with $1.5 million. But we talked about it quite a bit on Friday, and I'm not sure whether $1.5 million is enough to get really excited over or not. The good news is that the film likely made its money back in one weekend—nothing to sneeze at, for sure. But it's a far cry from the success of Fireproof thus far, and it's probably not enough to make the film industry stand up and take notice. But maybe it'll retain its momentum over the coming weeks: This film deserves to be seen.

So let's just make this Monday a frenetic, film free-for-all. What did you see this weekend? And are you glad you did?

I mean, I understand the allure. Wouldn't we all be tempted to lose a few wrinkles and look less like that before model for an ex-lax ad. But things are getting ridiculous. Take MTV's The Hills star Heidi Montag, for example. Now, here's a young girl who became famous as a teen for pretty much nothing more than being a sun-kissed California beauty—as you can see from the far-left pic from the Jan. 25 edition of People.

Well, this 23-year-old recently went in for a major plastic surgery overhaul that included:

• Mini brow lift

• Botox shots

• Nose job

• Fat injections in lips

• Chin reduction

• Neck liposuction

• Ears pinned back

• Breast augmentation (Her second)

• Liposuction buttock augmentation

And yes, the girl to the right of that young Heidi Montag is the "new and improved" celebrity.

"No one is ever perfect," Montag told People. "But I am obsessed with plastic surgery and with maintaining my looks."

We can, and usually do, point a finger of blame at Hollywood, but in reality it's not solely the entertainment industry's fault. (Hollywood's elite just happen to be the ones with enough money to have full body slice and dice fests and then unveil the results on E!.) They may inspire the masses with their prefab pulchritude, but it's we the people who are sporting a changing mindset in this area. And sadly, our youngest are the ones to be swayed the most.

According to Britain's goodsurgeonguide.co.uk, 41% of girls ages 13-16 want some sort of cosmetic surgery. The American Society of Plastic surgeons reported that in 2008 over 228,000 13- to 18-year-olds went under the knife for surgical beautification. And the results can be deadly. Not long ago, a story came out about a high school cheerleader whose life was cut short on the operating table during a breast augmentation.

Now, I'm not trying to scream scary warnings of young people dying during plastic surgery (even though Ms. Montag spoke of a near-death scare during her post-surgery recovery). What I am saying is that there's definitely something—be it our perspective on life and happiness or our mental and emotional health—that's being hurt with this new craving for an impossibly elusive perfection.

Social networking can enhance our regular face-to-face friendships and provide a way to stay in contact with friends who live overseas or out of state.

Facebook's fun because friendship is fun—and research even shows we're healthiest and most fulfilled when we feel connected to others.

Still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't also wonder about Facebook's potential … hitches.

In the brave new virtual world of clever status updates, wall posts and the chain-letter phenomenon "25 Things About Me," some wonder whether we are really fostering a community, or merely garnering an audience. And in this age when the very definition of friendship is blurred by the Internet (Is a high school classmate I barely knew 20 years ago really my friend?), community looks much different than it did even five years ago.

Jesse Rice has a few thoughts on all of this. In his book The Church of Facebook, Rice presents the pros of our social networking age, but also discusses how virtual friendships look almost exactly like physical friendships—with significant and potentially menacing differences. For one, deep friendship develops with shared face-to-face moments and enough privacy to discuss serious issues. The very public world of Facebook can be an environment of grandstanding and profile management. He goes on to say:

But what do you think? Is Facebook an ego boost, a healthy outlet to laugh at friends' goings-on, or a "place" to foster actual real-life groups of friends who will love and hold one another accountable? Or, in this complex virtual age, is it all of the above? And how has it changed the way we view community?

A weary roll of the eyes and shake of the head. That’s my typical reaction to supermarket tabloids and shallow fan mags trumpeting the latest celebrity wedding.

It’s not because these cleverly nicknamed bride-and-groom tandems (can we stop with the Tomkats, Bennifers and Brangelinas already?) celebrate their nuptials with gaudy excess and guest lists that read like a Golden Globes ballot. Hey, they’re entitled to choose their friends. And if they want to spend the gross national product of Guam on a party, so be it. What breaks my heart is knowing that, based on the track record of celebrity marriages, most of these high-profile partnerships are destined to fail because they’re built on foundations of Jell-O.  

So it might surprise you to know that I thoroughly enjoyed reading People magazine’s recent cover story about 22-year-old pop star Kevin Jonas’ marriage to his “best friend,” Danielle Deleasa: His Brooks Brothers tux. Her Vera Wang gown. How he sent his real-life Cinderella a pair of glass slippers (in her size) just before the ceremony. The tears. The toasts. The first dance. I loved it all.

Why did I suddenly become such a softie who couldn’t wait to share the colorful photo spread with my 12-year-old daughter? Because it’s obvious that the blushing couple and their proud families understand the eternal significance of marriage. This wasn’t an impulsive stunt or shrewd career move. Kevin and Danielle were raised in Christian homes, healthy environments that, according to her mom, were remarkably similar. And the ceremony was performed by Kevin’s dad, an ordained minister who also happened to be Danielle’s childhood pastor.

Does any of that guarantee a successful marriage? No, but it sure improves the odds, especially by showbiz standards.

On his wedding day, Kevin said he realized that the vow he was about to take would forever change his life and relationships, including the longtime bond with his musical brothers, Joe and Nick. You remember the Jonas Brothers; they’re the band that comedian Russell Brand mocked during a 2008 MTV awards show for their abstinence pledge. Brand’s comments made headlines, as did the immediate response by singer Jordin Sparks, who defended the boys onstage. Fittingly, Sparks was also on hand Dec. 19 to hear Kevin and Danielle recite the pledge that would make all of that waiting worthwhile.

I really love watching movies. Call me a masochist, but even after countless hours of screening flicks for review, I'll sometimes put my notebook and pen aside and happily plant my over-padded backside in an under-padded theater seat.

I'll be honest, though, when we crossed the finish line for the decade, my initial reaction was probably much like yours. It felt like Hollywood was obsessed with three categories of filmmaking:

• Big splashy spectacle pics (The whole Perfect Storm/Pirates of the Caribbean/2012/Avatar shindig) that deliver an over-the-top CGI explosion to the screen.

• Push-the-envelope "adult" films (40-Year-Old Virgin, Brokeback Mountain, Borat, The Reader, The Hangover, etc.).

• Get-out-your-buzz-saw-and-machete gore-fests (Saw VI, The Descent, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, My Bloody Valentine—to name but a few).

That's an over-simplification, of course, but it can sometimes feel like the days of the simple, family-friendly popcorn-muncher are long gone. I heard one popular TV commentator say that he wasn't looking forward to the next decade of films if they're like the stuff we saw the last 10 years.

I'm not quite so pessimistic, however. Once I got past my initial gut reaction and thought about it, I came up with a good number of movies from the decade that fell into my favorites list. Just about everything put out by Pixar, for instance (Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, WALL-E) gave me my money's worth of cinematic joy. In fact, I think this past year's Up is definitely best-picture material—it drew me in emotionally and had me smiling and wiping my eyes within its first five minutes.

But we reviewers are always spouting off about what we think. So why don't I shut up for a change and give you the floor? Help out your fellow bloggers and tell us what films from the last ten years have been your favorites.

Nonetheless, this week's Up Front article, "It's Good to Be Bored," (written by yours truly) featured thoughts on stillness, and how being at rest or deep in thought is often confused with boredom in our culture. More specifically, the article dealt with the importance of being still and reflective enough to allow our minds and spirits a chance to process what's happening in our lives. To think and explore. To learn and accept. To know God and ourselves. To figure out why certain middle-aged men enjoy Star Trek reruns SO much.

Anyway. Nowadays many people seem to consider soul-searching something reserved for a couple minutes of church each week, if that. But is that enough in our manic, disjointed world? (Or are we so used to it that we don't see our insane pace?)

And if you feel like you don't have time to breathe, let alone contemplate, pray or journal, then what are some ways to get more breathing space? Or is being still and silent for a time about as appealing to you as wearing Spock ears for 24 hours?

If you are still and deep in thought for a time, I promise nothing strange will happen. You won't, for example, start to speak Klingon. But you will learn a few things about God's presence. And blessings to you when you do.

Nope, I'm not reviewing it.  But she did alert me to it, so of course, I watched—and lost a quarter of my brain cells in the process. (I'm thankful I can still type!)

Here's the premise of this ABC reality/dating/attempted comedy program: Men roll by on a conveyor belt while five women tell them whether they're interested in dating them or not. If a woman likes a man, she can ask him out on a date—but she can also trade up if someone more interesting rolls by. (Apparently, no one cares about the men's feelings, and several looked hurt when they were discarded.)

The guys have one minute to make an impression—good, bad or horrifying. One man came out using nunchucks. Another read badly written love poetry and suggested he has some impressive physical attributes. Others tried magic tricks or the ukulele. One man just screamed a lot.

Shockingly, none of these dudes were asked out.

But one guy rolled by wearing a Speedo and holding his dog. He was snatched up immediately because the woman thought he was "courageous." (It didn't hurt that he was also built like a Greek god.)

My question in all of this: Is this gradually becoming the state of American dating? If so, are we getting so shallow because of The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and other reality dating programs where potential spouses are practically shopped for?

Have you ever known a dating "consumer?" And if you think our dating culture really is becoming more like a conveyor belt than a prayerful process, then how do we get out of shopping mode?

It's 2010, folks, and lots of us are thrilled to have another blank slate on which to draw. But despite the year being so shiny new and all, the box office looks suspiciously similar.

James Cameron's sci-fi extravaganza Avatar made another $68.3 million over New Year's weekend, according to boxofficemojo.com, bringing its North American box-office take to $352 mil. (Sherlock Holmes and Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel finished a distant second and third, respectively.) Avatar's numbers are even more impressive internationally: The denizens of Pandora have now generated $1 billion worldwide in three weeks. Prognosticators say it's just a matter of time before it passes Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, 2009's top-grossing film, and it may become the second highest-grossing film ever, right behind Cameron's own Titanic.

Granted, if you adjust those figures for inflation, of course, Avatar's numbers don't look quite as impressive. But it's still made a heap of money, and my question for you today is simple: Why?

What makes this film so resonant? Is it the special effects? The story? Is James Cameron really that great a filmmaker? Or does he just have really, really good timing?