Reality TV in four courses

[Contains bootings from this week's shows through today. Beware!]

Fried green tomatoes on a bed of goat cheese grits: The Hills. Someone paid Stephen to show up at the party, right? Chomping his gum all awkward, leading-her-on-style like he did on Laguna. It was always thus with Stephen and LC: thirty-second gazes across the dinner table, LC looking come-hither-ish and/or bemused and Stephen looking like a moron and/or smug. Which is not to say that I don't love him a little, but he's never going to commit, I don't think. People.com has a poll: "Should Lauren give it another try with Stephen?" Um, not to be a downer, but he didn't even walk her to the door. Maybe he's just not that into you? He got, like, a lifetime supply of Voss or something to show up so Lo could be awesome and say she hopes they get married. She probably does hope that (okay, me too) but she said it extra cute for tv.


Celery root salad with mustard vinaigrette and country ham: Top Chef. There is absolutely NO WAY two pounds of bratwurst, fresh vegetables, and fruit were purchased at Whole Foods for $10. It's the worst tv manipulation I've seen yet. One serving for $10, maybe. From Food Lion. With double coupons. The timer's also pretty dubious, but I can accept that more or less as editing. Such shame we didn't unload Lisa this week. She's the worst.


Chicken tacos with cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, sour cream, and guacamole: Dancing with the Stars. Shannon & silly Derek sealed her fate with the tirade in the interview box. Someone in editing passed out cold for joy when they started all that yelling, and when they woke up they did a quick Nielsen calculation of how many times in two hours they would need to show it on television to get a raise. The answer: 48.



Banana pudding with shortbread crust and meringue, mint garnish: AI. Number one: There is no excuse for Jason Castro not singing "Acapulco." Number two: Oh, my favorite Brooke. It was nice to see the teeny reprieve from your nationally-televised nervous breakdown, but sorry it came back with such a vengeance tonight that your only recourse was to hug Ryan for 29 minutes. Awkward. I would like to say, for the record, that I would have voted for you 298 times if you had only sung "Songs of Life." It's a beautiful song, but it starts out with the cheesiest keyboard ever, and if you could have undone that with your piano and given it a go instead of the embarrassment that was your first song, Syesha would have gone first. But don't cry, shopgirl - best not to be standing next to the Davids when one of them eventually wins. Blurgh.

Apartment Therapy is awesome again

I am crazy about plates as wall decor - you might say too crazy, since they are an element of every wall grouping in my house. Which is why this is kind of a dream wall, belonging in the house of an artist named Lisa Cogdon, where there is lots of well-used color and interesting objects. Overall, her style is a hair cheerful for my taste - but I do love those plates.

How-to (if it doesn't seem obvious) here.

Did you guys know,

That if you buy a H3 you can totally go plowing through National Forests & habitats and have some lovely family time enjoying the beauty of nature?

So. Awesome.

Germil was on the news!

She already said so on her blog, but it's just so exciting. Watch here. (Their embedding is broken, boo.)

I think there was a contest between the anchors to see who could say "local" the most times in 20 seconds.

But Germil looks good and local-lovin'. Too bad we couldn't see CB on tv gnawing on some bacon.

(PS ArKANsans is a weird word.)

The earth is not your ashtray

I have a general bias against bumper stickers, because they're so shouty, for one, and for two, usually pretty punny. And some really high percentage have grammatical errors. Lots are pretty bad, but I really hate the grandparent one:

It illustrates another general problem with bumper stickers - that they don't make sense. And they don't believe in contractions. And they wreck your paint. And people always have them on crooked for time immemorial, because they don't come off. Don't you hate when you see a new one and you laugh to yourself (or out loud) and then you're just so BUGGED that you gave them the satisfaction?

But I swear I would put that first one on every inch of my Audi if it would stop people from throwing their cigarette butts out the window. There's some law of physics that says they have to land in the middle of the lane where they sit there, burning, while I drive my car over them. Something that's ON FIRE. No matter how many times you try to convince me that my car isn't going to blow up, for a few seconds I panic, and I always will, because isn't there at least a remote possibility that if a burning object bounces up into just the right place in your undercarriage, something bad might happen? Also, if the California forest fires aren't enough, I don't know what is.

Put. It. In. The. Ashtray, you dirty littering pig.

I loved it when that one time Maxie from General Hospital got arrested for a DUI after she tossed her butt out the window and they pulled her over for littering.

I demand more justice.

Humanity i love you*

Outside Hilo, Big Island, Hawaii. Not taken by me, obviously.

* e.e. cummings, taken slightly out of context

I say, it is time for new albums

Um, excuse me, Neko? Gillian? I respectfully submit that it is far from time for your new albums.

Neko, you are more forgiven than Gillian, because you're still under the 2-year mark, but Gillian, seriously, this is outright mad. 2003?! I have listened to your discs half to death and in theory you have been recording, because you said so and played some of the magnificent new stuff in Charlotte for us two years ago. (Is it because Donnie says your music makes him want to kill himself? Because I'll quit my job.) We can only be so patient. We've been waiting for the Latter-day Saint song to be on cd for at least 4 years now. Stop teasing!

Neko, I bought Furnace Room Lullaby recently, and though I like some of the songs a lot, I do appreciate how on Fox Confessor, your sound evolved a bit from the strict alt-country into the unclassifiable current one. What I call it: perfect. (What Bunny calls it: Boring and slow. Mystery.) Also, the addition of your (I heard) microphone-hogging background chick was another inspired choice. More, please!

Chris Brown should win American Idol

Make that one million and one downloads, Ryan. Duets like "No Air" transcend genres - I wouldn't probably love Jordin's disc but I LOVE this song. Her performance was a little wonky, like she couldn't quite hear her pitch, but this song is so musically awesome, despite its lyrics, which are nothing if not the world's most belaboured metaphor and sets the cause of independent women back a few steps ("How do you expect me to live alone with just me because my world revolves around you it's so hard for me to breathe.")

Sorry, Michael Johns; we just never could figure you out. I can't care right now, though, because I just fell in love with Chris Brown.

I swear I have no dreams that can come true

I also swear that everyone on the entire internet blogs about American Idol after it's on, but this is my first season watching it - not to be all self-righteous about what's on my DVR, but I just couldn't stand to make the time investment before. It was inevitable, though - the first stop on the slippery slope was Dancing With the Stars, and now I've been watching that for 3 cycles, as they say, so AI was bound to come up.

ANYway, I mostly don't care for nearly everyone, but this week featured some really good performances from people who've been on my eh list, and bad ones from the people I can't stand anyway. I like being validated about my judgmental opinions. Simon was in quite a better mood this week - the internet says that he hates country music, and I honestly can't figure how you could hate Dolly Parton songs, but he seemed to get cranky and bored by them all. This week was "inspiration" week, which produced no end of "dreams coming true" speeches, which make me cranky and bored. AI could make me very happy by banning all Queen songs from being performed, and frankly, since they seem to have some serious influence over the universe, from the radio and sporting events too. No more Queen in the world!

Michael: I swear I don't get this guy. A little too much chin lifting. He's handsome and should be giving off more sexy vibe than he does, and yet it doesn't seem like shyness, exactly, but indifference? Everyone knows that AI is a giant corporate monstrosity, and when they make those commercials for Ford and do those group dances . . . it's humiliating, sure. But you knew that when you signed up. It's like the ten millionth season of this show and it's not changing. And it's not like those things are soul-sucking, they're just stupid and embarrassing. Maybe he's too old for this type of career-launching - his irritating argumentative little speech to Randy about dreams coming true just doesn't mean anything, and it doesn't give us any insight to him. He has a nice voice, but what's his market? I can't predict his music career, and I am obsessed with comparisons when I watch this show.

Carly: After Simon basically called her fat and ugly last week she wears these super-tight pants and I'm pretty sure a pantyline? (I couldn't really tell because I can't get HD locals at the moment, bug.) He told her she looked good, but come on. It's just because he was nicer this week and the internet made him feel bad, if that's possible. She has a great voice but I CAN'T STAND QUEEN.

David C: I really can't stand him. We already have Nickelback, we don't need more. I am glad he cut his hair, and I will admit his last 2 weeks have been really great performances, but this one was horrible and he is such a phony.

David A: Cute little David Archuleta, with the voice of, like, Tony Bennett, and the stage personality of a little kid imitating Tony Bennett. I am crazy about this song - Simon nailed it when he said it's one of the greatest pop songs ever - I assume Robbie Williams wrote it and he performs it like a champ. I'm with Randy that it was okay - I'm not sure he should play and sing because he seemed to be having trouble with the multitasking. He is so vocally talented, but unless he ends up with a Josh Groban/Michael Bublé career, I think his winning will do him a great disservice personally.

Kristy Lee: She's so generic, it's hard to care that much. Martina can belt out some cheese, so taking her song on was brave. It was pretty good.

Jason: Man, I hate his dreds, but this was quite awesome. The song has been done a thousand times, but suddenly you saw that Jason could have a Jack Johnson career (if he can write songs, which isn't clear) and be really good at it.

Syesha: Girl, please, singing a song by another American Idol? Such a weird choice. It's a pretty cheesy song, and Syesha has a nice voice and a gorgeous smile, but I'm kind of over her.

Brooke: Bean was right when she got me watching for Brooke - I love her voice and I think in theory she could have a wonderful singer-songwriter career. But her performing gets weirder every week, like this combination of self-deprecation and actual intimidation. She seems to have read the internet this week about responding to the judges, because she clamped her mouth shut in that weird, kind of psycho smile and looked like she might pass out. I think the main problem is that James Taylor did that song a lot more memorably than Carole King. She's one of those artists who I like as a songwriter, but actually listening to her sing can really grate my nerves, not unlike Joni Mitchell. Like, they had a lot to offer the canon but they don't have great voices. Brooke really does, but she tried for the Carole King version, and it's just not that endearing. Every week I get nervous to see what she'll sing and hope it will be something wonderful, but since "Let it Be" it just hasn't been right. It's taken me a few weeks to understand what the judges mean about the right song choice, and Brooke has chosen strangely lately. I guess the main problem is that I really love Brooke but I don't actually like the songs she chooses - they're the ones for which I would switch the radio instantly. I get that they have to choose semi-mainstream songs that are recognizable, but what if she picked "When It Don't Come Easy" or "Let Him Fly" by Patty Griffin, or "Elvis Presley Blues" by Gillian Welch, or something by Emmylou Harris? She could slow it down and keep it in her range and really shine. At least, I hope she could.

Why blogs are awesome

Because now someone has made a list of the best and worst foods to eat while reading. I do this a lot - I love to sit in a restaurant by myself and read a book or catch up on The New Yorker. Pretty spot-on, if you ask me:

Best

1. Bite-sized pasta - You eat this primly, with one hand and a fork, leaving the other hand free for the book.

2. Soup - Most soups are one-hand affairs.

3. Crackers, cookies, and carbs in general - But beware. Not only do they get crumbs in your pages you will also eat too much while reading.

4. Hard pretzels - Bite-sized and non-messy.

5. Cheese plate - Chris says this seems properly snobby for a nice read fest, good with port and
a pair of slippers. Also, easy to eat. Port, Stilton, and pears, all cut beforehand into bite-size pieces, go well with a deep read in the evenings. [Eh – this one I don’t quite agree with – too much grease on your hands, and you definitely need a proper carb to soak up the sourness of cheese, so why bother? Just eat the carb.]

Worst

1. Big burritos- These take concentration and skill to eat without making a mess - forget about turning the pages. [True – I would never go to Carrburitos for eating and reading – for the reason above and because I don’t want to look uncool, and I am 15 when I go to Carrburritos.]

2. Most sandwiches - Also two-hand affairs. If you have a book stand, though, these can still be OK.

3. Complicated salads - Too much work; you're always having to look down at your plate.

4. Soft pretzels - Too greasy.

5. Popcorn - Also too greasy, and distractingly noisy.

Time to talk about something else

Whenever I see some kind of fantastic chalkboard idea, I get all inspired to hurry and get one into my life. I don't know if it's leftover from playing school as a kid and just dying to write on every chalkboard at church or in school (which, do schools use chalkboards still or is it all whiteboards now? I hope not). Anyway, that's exactly what happened when I saw this on AT today:
And then I remembered that I am just not organized enough to a) remember to write things down or b) to remember to look at the things to remember, and it made me kind of sad. Plus, I have to say that I imagine chalk buildup in those little corners and it makes me a little crazy. But still, it's so fantastic. I wish I were a chalkboard girl, I'm saying.

One more thing

Heff's post on the trouble with sports on DVR (which, for the sake of basketball in general, I'm sad for you guys, but for the sake of the outcome? Ugh. Better left unwatched. Still too sad over here . . .) reminded me of another part of my conflicted sports philosophy: I have a really hard time watching someone lose. (Well, except Duke, but that goes without saying.) Like, in the midst of cheering and being so happy in the Smith Center for most of the games this year I would have this horrible moment where I would look over at the bench of the losing team and I always felt kind of overwhelmingly bad. Clearly the broadcasters of sports events want people to feel the entirety of the drama, because they always get that shot panning down the bench, lingering on the ones whose hands are on their face or whoever looks the most stricken. It's terrible.

But again, it's part of the thing, part of why it's emotional, and if it doesn't end up that way, then what's the point, right? It's not YMCA basketball here. And the truth is, there's always another year, another set of players who give you the buzzer-beaters or break your heart, the losses fade, so do the wins, and you keep your loyalty because, in the end, it really is a lot more fun than not caring.

Forbidden Fruits Create Many Jams

I believe I am on record saying that I was theoretically skeptical of good rest in the family bed scenario, and now I am skeptical with evidence and I think I am right. A 3-year-old little gem of a kid (he would like me to point out that he is actually 3 1/2) I was watching overnight saw something scary in his room at 4:45 am and I put him in the bed with me because I was kind of delirious, not regularly being awakened by other humans in the night. The next hour-and-a-half I lay awakeish in that weird half-state in the dark while he wiggled his brains out and managed to push me almost to the edge of the bed AND steal the covers. I feel validated in my theory that grownups cannot sleep well with a little squirmy human heater smashed on your back. And since my mind was medium cuckoo, here are other things I couldn't stop thinking about:

1. How my oldest friend in the world, Shannan, wrote about how her 30s are turning out to be fabulous and life-affirming and mine are crap. Okay, not crap, but not awesome like I now think my 20s were. At least the 20s up to 25. I have so much to be awfully glad about: that I'm so very rich, for example, and I really do have a terrific life, but I am quite jealous that Shannan is confident in the decisions she makes. Not me.

2. I almost hate to say it out loud, but it's still real, even in denial. Seriously, that game. The thing I kept seeing in my half-deluded mind was that horrible camera shot on Roy during the last 2 minutes. The saddest coach face ever.

3. Kind of separate to number 2 but also related: a question and a confession. Why are sports so emotional? Like, I'm new to the loving of it, and really what I mostly love is UNC basketball. Confession: I feel like a giant poser. I have a nebulous connection at best to UNC, which is that my address says Chapel Hill, though I am not actually a resident of Chapel Hill, nor am I an old school North Carolinian who chose my allegiance in pre-school, and I didn't go there, though I have lots of friends who did, and I barely even like sports in general, so I have a weird guilt complex about calling myself a fan. I do have a terribly generous invitation to many games in great seats in the glorious Smith Center, which both sends me further into fandom and makes me feel like an idiot. So mix that with this sick pit of sadness over a loss, and I am mystified that I feel this way. I've solicited some opinions from my family, and I think Dogey got something right on when she talked about that we experience sports as a community, large or small, and times when we are connecting with other people are necessarily emotional. My sports-loving brothers-in-law (this one too) were all kinds of comforting, and they talked about letting the agony of the killer losses be a part of the experience, which is a cool angle. Because I'm seriously broken up about being broken up, if you see what I mean.

I am accepting all theories on this phenomenon.

(PS The title of this post was stolen from a church marquee. Awesome, right?)

Um, I hate to be picky,

but he's actually not. I'm just saying.