December 31, 2006
Wow -- That Went By Quick!
I ganked this from Lori in 2004 and then totally forgot about it in 2005. Let's see how much has changed in two years, shall we?
2006 In Review
1. What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before? Can't think of anything... man, that's pathetic.
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't normally do New Year's Resolutions. However, I do have one for this year. Actually, it's a resolution for Husband. Aren't I thoughtful, making one for him? My resolution is to get him out of bed earlier in the morning, so he can go to work earlier, come home earlier, and go to bed earlier, so we can spend more time together.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? YES! BILLI! Making me an aunt for the fourth time and a godmother for the third time! And The Spare looks like ME! Which means I'm pretty much obligated to plot with him to take over The Boy Child's throne...
4. Did anyone close to you die? Thankfully, no.
5. What countries did you visit? Are Indiana and Wisconsin countries? Because that's as far as I got this year. No, WAIT! We went to DisneyWorld and visited ALL the countries! (Of Epcot.)
6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006? A better -- if still tenuous -- relationship with my step daughters. Baby steps, right?
7. What dates from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Have to add September 29 to my list of Awesomest Days Ever. That's the day The Spare was born, and I THANK GOD I wasn't outta town when it happened (almost was!). My record stands firm -- I have seen all my nephews and niece within hours of their birth.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Having an honest and thought-provoking exchange of emails with my Older Step Daughter. I'm not saying I'm her BFF now, but I think we understand each other a little better now and can, therefore, cut each other some slack. We're not so bad, after all.
9. What was your biggest failure? Amazingly, no huge fuck-ups spring to mind. I guess that's what I get for not trying anything new, eh?
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nothing worse than strep throat.
11. What was the best thing you bought? A puppy! Although ask me again in 2007 if that remains a good idea...
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Husband. After years of trying to be Superman to the whole world, he's finally getting some help for the heartache he still feels after being torn from his daughters' lives. Kudos, bubie. Any coward can be an island -- it takes strength and bravery to ask for help.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Pretty much every stranger I crossed paths with. Common courtesy is dead.
14. Where did most of your money go? My money, or our money? My eBay money went to vintage silver charm bracelets; our money went to the Disney stockholders, via our Discover card.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Getting to cut my work hours to part time! It's a dream come true! Although the envy of everyone I know is becoming a bit oppressive...
16. What song will always remind you of 2006? "The Song That Goes Like This," sung my moi and Gay A. Seriously, we rocked the house... as much as two white people can rock a Broadway musical.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier. Things are looking up.
b) thinner or fatter? I think I've plateaued.
c) richer or poorer? About the same, I think.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of? BLOGGING! Wait, let me ammend that -- GOOD blogging.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Obsessing over things beyond my control.
20. How did you spend Christmas? Christmas Eve was happy and hectic with my immediate family all over at our place. Laughed my ass off when The Boy Child opened the video game we got him -- "Lego Stah Wahs, bay-beeeeeeee!"
21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with? Probably PJ. She likes to call first thing in the morning, when I'm barely coherent, and talk about things like snow, or muffins, or puppies. Imagine being confronted with Buddy the Elf at 7 a.m.
22. Did you fall in love in 2006? Yes. With my iPod Nano. I call him Roger.
23. How many one-night stands? Dudes, I can't even close the deal in my dreams anymore. Just when I get to the good part, I wake up.
24. What was your favorite TV program? "Deadwood." Al Swearengen is my hero!
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? No. Takes a lot to be added to my list. I just hate the same ol' assholes.
26. What was the best book you read this year? Ahab's Wife. A look at what she might have been like, if the legendary Ahab had had a wife. Quite a broad.
27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Eminem, much to the chagrin of Husband. Thanks, Billi!
28. What did you want and get? A puppy.
29. What did you want and not get? Forgiveness.
30. What was your favorite film of this year? "The Prestige."
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 37 at home in bed with strep throat.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? More writing.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006? Black is slimming. And sometimes it pays to buy the expensive stuff.
34. What kept you sane? Awwwwww, it's so cute that you think I'm sane!
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Christian Balllaaarghlrghlrghlrghlrghl...
36. What political issue stirred you the most? Gay marriage. I can't comprehend the arrogance of keeping two people in love from publicly and legally binding their relationship. It's just nonsense! Oh, don't get me started! Where's my soap box?
37. Whom did you miss? Natalie, currently having her uber-talent underappreciated in New York. And talking with Nicki every day.
38. Who was the best new person you met? Um, did I meet Scarlett Cyn this year or last year? If it was this year, then her. If it was last year, then... Did I meet anyone new this year? I don't think so. You know how I feel about strangers.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006: Don't bang your head against what you can't change. Well, I didn't learn it very well, but I'm partway through the workbook.
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: "I'm the real Shady -- All you other Slim Shadies are just imitating!"
Posted at 09:56 AM | Comments (0)December 27, 2006
Ping-Pong This!
I saw an interesting little piece of The Girl Child's personality on Christmas Day. I think she's going to do just fine in the world.
Some mildly-retarded crackhead -- I don't remember which one -- gave Brad and Boy Child a gift to share. Or rather, they each got their own identical one.
A gun. A gun that shoots ping-pong balls. So that they can shoot at each other. And people, if you think ping-pong balls are harmless, you've never had one coming at your head at 75 mph.
Dessert and educational computer games were soon forgotten in lieu of drive-by ponging. Mayhem ensued and became what will forever be known as The Great Ping-Pong Massacre of '06.
Boy Child donned his Darth Vader helmet and hid behind Husband for proction. The men in the family quickly learned to cover the 'nads with shirt boxes. It was a long and senseless war with many casualties. But a hero was born that day, my friends.
It was Brad's turn to duck and cover while Boy Child (with the aid of Husband) launched a fierce attack on Brad's ass. A lone, stray ball (ping-pong, not Brad's) hit Girl Child in the eye.
I sat up straight in my seat, poised to lunge forward and rescue her at the first sign of tears. She is a delicate flower, after all. But something... unexpected happened.
Even though she was clearly still hurt and on the verge of tears, Girl Child picked up her father's gun and started firing back at Husband and Boy Child! It was incredible! The stuff legends are made of!
Well, her glory was short-lived. Full-scale war is never a good idea in a crowded living room, and we had to settle the kids (and the fathers) down for less-bloody activities. But Girl Child, again, surprised me with her actions.
Having gotten her first taste of sweet, sweet revenge, she decided a little target practice was in order. See, the guns are kinda hard to fire and require a bit of arm strength and coordination. So Girl Child took one of the guns into the other room, away from all the people.
But I could still see her. She took aim at a closed door and fired away. Three or four times she picked up all the balls and reloaded the gun. And by the time she was done, she was an expert with that weapon. I tell ya, if that door was Doc Oc, he'd be protecting his 'nads with all eight arms.
Giving me a small smile, she walked quietly back into the living room and put the gun back in its box. But next time, people. Next time, she'll be ready for them.
Yup, she's gonna be juuuuuuuuuuust fine. Hmmm, how young is too young for a new recruit on my ship...?
Posted at 10:20 AM | Comments (2)December 25, 2006
Have a Very Daisy Christmas!
December 21, 2006
My MySpace Space
This morning, my still-drunk cousin IMed me from his bedroom, where his "date" from the night before was still passed out in bed, with his muddy dog. Classy, no?
He's a douche, but I love him. Mostly because he's not afraid to be a douche. He owns his douchery and is, as a result, very funny and virtually void of pretense.
In the course of our conversation (during which I must decipher some of the most horrendous spelling and grammar known to man or beast), he happened to mention that he has a MySpace. BWAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA! He's a banjo-pickin' construction worker... with a MySpace. I'm going to have to call him Kate-Lynn from now on.
Now, I have a LiveJournal. It's where I started, and I kept it when I got my own site because of the small-but-valuable network of friends I've made there. (Shout-out to Lori and C. Elff! Werd t' ya mutha!)
I've toyed with the idea of creating a MySpace, to maybe draw more traffic to this site. But a MySpace just seems so... I don't know... teenaged girly, ya know? My sixteen year old step daughter has a MySpace. Aren't she and I supposed to have, like, NOTHING in common? Isn't that the rule?
(No, I'm not linking to her or "friending" her on my MySpace. She's very pretty, and I don't want you sickos stalking her.)
When my cousin mentioned his MySpace, I, of course, demanded a link, and promptly laughed my ass off. He's a crass little gayrod, that's for sure. I read his blog posts -- very funny, when translated from the original Stoner -- and wanted to see his photos. But I can't see his photos unless I have a MySpace account.
So I made a MySpace. Yeah, this is the level to which my life has plummeted: I made a MySpace account... so I could see photos of my cousin toking up and sitting on the toilet. *sigh* Words fail me.
But, hey, I was already committed. The foul deed had been done, so why not add some friends? Found a few, requested a few more (including Tyra Banks and Janice Dickinson).
JANICE!!!
I doubt I'll blog there much. Even with my added twenty hours of leisure time every week, I already have this website and the LJ to keep up. I can't do everything! But I'm sure I'll keep adding friends, to validate my existance and make me feel special.
--<jumping up and down like a heavily caffienated teacup poodle> Friend me! Friend me! Friend me! </jumping up and down like a heavily caffienated teacup poodle>-- But if I don't know you, drop me a quick note so I know you're not just some starving artist or amateur pornographer looking for free ad space.
Not that there's anything wrong with amateur pornography...
December 20, 2006
God Bless the Inventor of the Elastic Waistband
Ah, the Holiday Food Table -- bane of my ever-expanding existance.
It's a tradition where I work to have a Holiday Food Table the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of the week before Christmas. People sign up with whatever they're going to bring each day.
I'm signed up for Thursday, and I'm making my Famous and Eagerly-Anticipated chocolate chip cookies (or are these people worthy of Igor Bars...?) and probably some Tastefully Simple cheeseball-type product.
You know who I hate? The asshole who brings a box of candy canes as his/her contribution. First of all, if anyone actually eats a candy cane, it's one per year, tops. Secondly, is that really the best they could do? I mean, they were obviously in Walgreens -- they couldn't get a package of Oreos or something? Pathetic. Don't let me catch you eating my cheeseball, you cheap bastard!
Candy canes aside, Tuesday's table had a pretty good spread. By 9:00 a.m., I was already burping up taco dip while eating Keilbasa sausage with my fingers. An exceptional way to start the day, by anyone's standards. And for dessert? (Yes, breakfast comes with dessert. Well, at least second breakfast does.) Frango mints!
Life is good, my friends. I may have been sluggish and unable to concentrate for the rest of the day, but by God, it was worth it.
Posted at 06:26 AM | Comments (3)December 18, 2006
Super-Secret Tricks, Just For You!
I can't turn on my computer or stand in the Jewel check-out line without seeing the headline "Ten Tips To Avoid Holiday Weight Gain!"
Invariably, these articles are accompanied by a photo of three women standing around eating carrots and drinking sparkling water, laughing merrily at all the fools who don't know their super-secret tricks to keeping their collarbones fully visible 365 days a year.
(Remember, men -- it's okay for you to gain weight over the holidays, as long as you buy us diamonds and cashmere and cars and the like!)
So, in the spirit of sharing my wisdom with my favorite people -- YOU! -- I've compiled my own list of...
Wenchie's Tips for Avoiding Holiday Weight Gain
1. Don't eat so damn much!
2. See number one.
3. See number one.
4. See number one.
5. See number one.
6. See number one.
7. See number one.
8. See number one.
9. See number one.
10. See number one.
OR, you could just gain the eight pounds and fucking deal with it because, if that's the worst thing you have to worry about, you are clearly living a life that we should all envy and hate you for.
Posted at 06:22 AM | Comments (1)December 17, 2006
The Joy of Two Dogs
Today's Guest Blogger is Egrau, who sent me this email on Friday, regarding the joys of owning two dogs:
Yesterday, having eaten his cookie way too fast, Deuce ran into the living room to puke on the carpet. I ran after him but was too late. I dragged him back into the kitchen, and while I was digging out cleaning supplies, he yakked again. At least this time it was on the tile.Meanwhile, Ava had taken advantage of my distraction, and had eaten all of the puke in the living room. After all, there was a cookie in it. Gross, gross, gross!
Something for you to look forward to...
Love,
The Disgusting Dog's Mother
It's so nice to have such kind and supportive friends. Getting a second dog was an easy decision for Husband and I, and knowing we have such wonderful people around us makes it even easier.
Can you feel the love?
And no, Ava did not hurl after eating Deuce's vomit. That was my immediate follow-up question. Although I suppose a better question would have been -- What the hell kind of insanely irresistable cookies are you feeding those dogs?!
Posted at 09:24 PM | Comments (0)December 15, 2006
I'm All Over the Place Today
It's official. I have ceased to exist in the eyes of everyone around me. I am off the radar screen of reality.
People, I died my hair auburn, and no one noticed. AUBURN! Reddish-brown! That's, like, as far away from blonde that you can possibly get without going completely Cindy Lauper!
Heather? Nope. My parents? Uh-uh. Husband? No. Co-workers? Only one.
New Girl is the only one who loves me. Crap, I guess I gotta go get her a better Christmas present now.
And no, I'm not keeping the auburn. I'm going light brown next time, but not even the tiniest amount of red looks good with my very-pink complexion.
*sigh* Not that it really matters, since no one seems to be able to lift their eyeballs up past my melons anyway!
I saw Heather last night when we went to watch "Totally Awesome" at the condo of Gay A, from Thursday Night Dinners. I cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, recommend this movie. At all. To anyone. It was horrible. Not even the Mudslides could save it.
Granted, Heather may have been too distracted by the stench of the movie to notice my hair... but I don't think that's the case. No, she was having too much fun with my Gay. He even drove her home. Because I'm too lazy (and scared of minorities) to drive into the city on a work night, but that's not the point! The point is...
I don't even know if I can type this. My heart is broken.
The point is that they sang show tunes together! Heather! And my Gay! Those cheating bastards! I -- I don't even know who I'm more mad at!
Probably Heather. Openly gay Gays are pretty hard to come by out here in the 'burbs, so she can't have mine! If she steals him, I'm so stealing hers.
Oh, that's right! I said it! Heather, I'm stealing your Gay! And you know which one, too -- B!!! He's the perfect Gay -- so cute! So witty! And fully portable!
...
Okay, how did I go from bemoaning my hair color to portable Gays?
Anyhoo, enjoy some Ross the Intern Meets the Crocodile Hunter. Click the link -- you won't regret it!
Posted at 02:08 PM | Comments (5)December 13, 2006
Fan, Meet Shit
God, I HATE not blogging every day! I'm really out of practice, so today's post will be sub-par and scatter-brained.
Here at Wenchie's Work, the shit has really hit the fan, which was on High at the time. It's also one of those oscillating fans on a tall stand, so the shit has coated everyone and everything.
The clever individuals in charge around here have put the second biggest asswipe in the company -- a man despised by everyone inside the company, as well as everyone we do business with -- in charge of "Business Development," i.e. "Having Close Contact with All Our Customers."
And next week, they're having me give lectures on "Proper Use of Company Time," "Professional Decorum" and "Business Attire."
I'm at the Reception Desk all day today, so I have sworn a solemn oath, written in chocolate smudges, to do absolutely nothing work-related today. If they're going to waste my skills on answering a phone and signing for packages, then I'm going to make it hurt!
So far, I have answered all those emails that have been sitting in my Yahoo! account, waiting for me to get to. A lot has happened since I last did that! My cousin's chemo is having excellent results; my friend had to put her beloved cat to sleep; and Billi asked me and Husband to be The Spare's godparents. I should probably do this more often.
So I wrote an email of encouragement and an email of empathy. The godparent thing, however, was not so easy to handle. And I know that sounds insensitive -- which is a huge shock coming from me -- but I didn't realize godparenting was so involved.
PW: Oh, I'm so touched and honored that you want me to be The Spare's godmother!
Billi: Great! [handing The Spare to me] He has a poopy diaper. I'm going up to take a shower!
PW: Dammit! Can't I just give him a saving bond and a "Baby's First Bible" or something?
Apparently, being a godparent means always wearing something washable and bringing a change of clothes when you visit. I think I'm going to crossstitch that on a pillow.
Posted at 11:38 AM | Comments (3)December 12, 2006
"The Girl Who Becomes America's Next Top Model"
I didn't realize it was the final episode until I started watching it. Duh.
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," thirteen girls were selected for the catfight known as ANTM, there was faux-sky-diving, a floating runway and Fabio!
We're down to the Final Three.
Eugena, who has gone from dead eyes to better eyes. BUT! Does she truly have the desire?
Melrose was a diva in the beginning, but has since turned around and come back with a vengence. Still, is mean Melrose the real Melrose?
CariDee has the big personality of someone who had to compensate for a gross skin disease for many years. And then she insulted Nigel. Hee!
Three girls remain! This week is the infamous Cover Girl commercial, which includes the photo that will be used in a nationwide campaign.
Tyra says that being a Cover Girl model is every girl's dream. Is it? Really? When I was little, I wanted to be a vet or a mermaid. But never a model. My Barbies weren't even models. They were circus performers.
Danielle shows up and calls them "cute." Which sounds a bit patronizing, but I'm sure she means well. And she confirms that, yes, her manager has officially shortened her name to "Dani." I guess it's easier with all those autographs she has to sign. Or something.
Jay lectures that girls that a Cover Girl has to be a roll model and stay focused. He emphasizes the "No Divas" rule, which never fails to amuse me with its inherent hypocrasy.
The three girls sit in their chairs, getting made up for the shoot. They all have different lines to learn, and Melrose is practicing hers at the top of her lungs, instead of quietly to herself, like Eugena and CariDee.
CariDee complains that Mel is distracting her, to which Miss Classy replies, "Then stop listening to me, ho!"
I didn't know white girls called each other ho, except in jest. CariDee, too, is somewhat amused, but mostly insulted.
Eugena interviews, for the thousandth time, that she doesn't want Melrose to win because "she's fake."
Melrose, in turn, talks smack about Eugena, saying that she has yet to hear Eugena talk about how much she "wants it." Because you have to "want it," you know. Tyra says.
And if that's the worst thing Mel can think of to say about Eugena, that's pretty lame. I mean, I REALLY want a chocolate shake right now, and me not articulating it doesn't make it any less true.
CariDee is on camera flubbing her lines over and over. She's nervous, and Jay tells her to just be herself. But then he interviews that once CariDee is set loose to be herself, he's afraid he won't be able to reign her in again.
Jay starts with Eugene by telling her that he doesn't want a "used car salesman." She apparently takes that to mean, "Be stiff and flat."
Melrose... I don't know, she kind of has a crazy moment here. I mean, for REALS crazy. Like rocking in a corner, repeating short sentences over and over to herself. It's weird. Jay calls her "the ultimate perfectionist." She cries after her take. Did Mommy not love her or something?
Then the girls do their still photos. Melrose is too "calculated." She's shaking with nervousness, and is again "over-thinking."
CariDee tries to concentrate on looking blissful and relaxed, rather than sexy and porny.
Eugena's main goal going in is making sure her eyes aren't dead.
Then they do the pick-up shots, which are... I don't know what those are. But they include the girls collapsing on a couch, laughing and snuggling like old friends. Now THAT'S acting!
Tyra Mail! Judging! And I think we all know who's going home.
Tyra's boobs -- holy crap. They are up to her chin in this dress! Husband is asleep on the couch, but I wake him up so he can see them. He's a fan.
The guest judges are the guys who designed the clothes for the Final Two fashion show going on later.
The judges slobber all over Melrose's take. So fresh! So vibrant! But her photo's no good; her lips look really tense, which is extra bad because the glop they're hawking this time is lip gloss!
I have to wonder -- Melrose has done so consistently well, was that really the best shot they had of her? I wonder... Personally, I think they're throwing Melrose under the bus, but more on my ponderings later.
Eugena's shot is fabulous, and the judges are surprised. "Where was this girl throughout the competition?" But then they argue about whether or not she "wants it" enough. Blah blah blah.
CariDee "gave more" than the others (i.e. she gestured with her arms), but... did she give TOO MUCH? Whatever. Her film was the best, so shutthefuckup about the "too much" crap already.
Deliberations.
Eugena still has no personality. Um, YES, SHE DOES. It's just not as out-going as the other two. Again -- being quiet does not mean there's nothing going on inside. Still waters? Anyone? Bueller?
With CariDee, you never know what you're going to get, and that's scary.
Melrose is a perfectionist and really "wants it," but she's not as natural at it as CariDee.
The judges are second-guessing themselves, so they say. They say they thought they knew who they wanted to keep and who to send home, but now they're not so sure. I'm sure! Ask me! Me!
CariDee is called first to come forward for her photo, and her eyes get big as Anchal's boobs. Then she cries.
Eugena and Melrose are called forward, and Mel gets her photo. Dammit. I knew it.
Then an interesting thing happens. Eugena looks past Melrose to CariDee, who looks very serious and shakes her head almost imperceptably.
They hug, and CariDee whispers to her, "It's okay, baby. I promise, I'll get this for you."
It's whispered so quietly that the sound from the body mic is turned way at this point, and it's still so quiet that they do the close captioned thingy on the bottom of the screen.
I can't decide if this whole thing is adorable, or creepy. Either way, CariDee has the weight of the world on her shoulders now. Now she has to win so that the world doesn't have to stomach Melrose in next season's commercials. It's not just about you anymore, CariDee! We're all counting on you!
Eugena is disappointed that she got cut, especially since it seemed to ride on her so-called lack of desire.
She's like, "Would I have gotten this far is I hadn't wanted it?!"
CariDee interviews that the feeling in the house now is "pure competition. She has to go."
CariDee is on a mission from God.
Tyra Mail! Something about her going to Paris when she was 17, and yes, it's a conceited, convoluted way to say that their next photo shoot is for Seventeen magazine.
Also? Jay is not going to be around for this shoot. They are on their own, like they will be if they win and end up in the real modeling world. Jay acts like this is a test for them, but I can't help but think they may be better off without having to listen to his snide remarks.
Atoose from Seventeen is there. She says that CariDee is more than a face; she's strong and confident. She also says that Melrose has a "unique look." And "unique," as we all know, is a euphemism for "ugly."
Tyra Mail! "Not every couch is a casting couch." I love how this implies that, indeed, some couches are casting couches. Like the one in Nigel's dressing room.
But the couch she was referring to is a therapist's couch. Or, in this case, a "life coach," Dr. Michelle.
First of all, if you're a REAL doctor, you go by your last name.
Second of all -- LIFE COACH?! I just... there's too much... so much rage building up inside me...
HOW DO I GET THIS JOB?! I love telling people what to do, and if I'm a Life Coach, I don't even need a freaking degree or anything! I can just be like, "Yeah, I'm smarter than you, so you should totally listen to me." It's the perfect job for me!
Dr. Michelle asks CariDee how she manages stress, and CariDee says she manages it pretty well because she got teased a lot and never let it stop her from doing anything. Her sense of humor takes away her sadness.
Then Dr. Fakey McCharletan asks Melrose what she has learned from this whole experience. Mel lies and says that she has learned to understand people better or some such shit.
And then she says, "Some of the things I say don't come off right."
Um... maybe that's because they're coming from a bitch?
Dr. Snake Oil commends her on acknowledging her fault because then she can start to work on it, but she didn't really acknowledge anything, did she?
She didn't say, "I don't say things right, and I sound like a bitch." No she said, "The words coming from my mouth rearrange themselves into sentences that other people perceive as bitchy."
So it's really the words' fault, as well as the fault of everyone around her. That's what is known, in the world of politics, as a non-apology: "I'm sorry if you misinterpreted something I said."
Okay, this season's big photo shoot has the theme of ghostly brides. The models are supposed to get more "theatrical" each time they go down the runway, with the final walk being "in their own coo-coo-crazy world." I wish I had a clip of Jay saying coo-coo-crazy.
Hey, Tyra's dress? Joan Collins called -- she wants her shoulders back.
I love CariDee's interview here: "This. Is. Mine."
Oh, Jesus Tube-Top-Wearing Christ, Miss J has flamenco dancer hair. does Tyra know he's borrowing her wigs?
The girls stomp down the runway in wedding gowns wearing bitchy expressions. You know, just like my first wedding.
One of the walks is what Jay calls "The Dis," where the girls stop and stare each other down when they pass on the runway. Melrose does some weird cobra-thing with her body. She is seriously scary.
Then... okay. The dresses are poofy and flowing and the trains are ridiculous, so this was bound to happen. The funny part about it is that it couldn't have happened to two better people. CariDee accidentally steps on Melrose's train, and it rips.
Naturally, Mel assumes that this is a calculated act on CariDee's part. Like, in addition to being vomitously nervous and trying not to screw up, CariDee is also going to carry out some insidious plot that could, if it goes wrong, cause her to trip and fall?
I think not.
CariDee apologizes, and Mel is like, "You're sorry? You're SORRY?!"
They should have called this episode "The Girl Who Is Coo-Coo-Crazy." Jeez, Mel, it's not like you made the dress. What the hell do you care? Get over it.
But getting over it is not Mel's forte, and she totally obsesses about it and starts freaking out. Which is awesome, and I'm hoping it messes up her performance, but unfortunately, it does not.
And then Melrose interviews, "I just wanna numb-chuck her."
You know, numb-chucks. They're what ninja dentists use when you're getting a root canal.
Oh, and then -- I swear, this is the best Final Fifteen Minutes of America's Next Top Model EVER! Miss J randomly gets up, alarming Tyra, and does a turn down the runway in his full-on black Spanish flamenco widow drag queen garb. It's a dream come true.
Then comes the final walk, where they're supposed to be all coo-coo-crazy. Mel is totally feelin' it. CariDee is really over-the-top, and part of her tiara flies out of her hair.
The final pose is Mel and Cari about to attack each other, then the runway goes black. But we are not treated to the sounds of a cat fight.
Okay, Final Two crap here -- contract with Elite Modeling Agency, cover and six-page spread in Seventeen magazine, $100,000 contract with Cover Girl.
Guest Judge Jay looks dapper in a pink blazer.
The judges fawn and coo over Mel's performance. But Cari looked like she was scared, all theatrics and no modeling.
Then they go over each girl's portfolio and do a side-by-side comparison.
Model Stereotypes, where Cari was the dumb blonde and Mel was the model who wouldn't get out of bed for less than $10,000. The judges claim that both excelled, but wasn't that the shoot where Mel sucked, and the photo they used was her ONLY good photo?
Fabio's Romance Novel Cover. CariDee looks gentle and sweet. Melrose, they say, does what Tyra does best -- sexy without being raunchy. Oh, is that what she does best...?
Black & White Scary Taken by Tyra. CariDee is clearly superior. Melrose is putting too much thought, and not enough passion, into it. (I swear, I'm so tired of typing the word perfectionist. Can't they think of another word for her? Something short, like feeb?)
40's Matador Hooker. CariDee is "quite strong" and, again, the fav. Melrose looks forced and could have done better.
Cover Girl Ad. Again, CariDee does better. Melrose has a tight mouth and plain expression.
[And in going back over my notes while typing this, didn't they leave out a couple photos? A couple where Melrose was the best? Like the sky-diving one?]
Well, Melrose was clearly the winner of the fashion show, according to the judges. CariDee is crying as we go to commercials.
We come back to deliberations.
Jay asks if they aren't chastizing Melrose for exactly what they ask of the girls, i.e. thinking about what they're doing, having a knowledge of the fashion industry, wanting to be a model more than anything else in the world. And I want to tell him to shut up, but he has a very good point.
On the other hand, and I don't remember who says this, but Hollywood loves extreme, and in that case, CariDee will be a star.
They argue the virtues of stable Melrose vs. natural CariDee for a while. And Nigel's like, "Heck, all of us in this room are unpredictable!"
And Tyra, bless her heart, says, "I'm not unpredictable. You know when I come in here I'm gonna have my hair weave, my make-up on and a dress that cinches in my waist."
I love her so very much for that one.
The girls are called back in and asked if there's anything they'd like to say on their behalf.
At this moment, probably the most stressful moment in their young lives, so far, this is what we see.
CariDee's anxiety is clearly showing on her face. Her eyes are red from crying, her expression is strained. We see what we expect to see from a girl who is waiting to hear the outcome of her life-long dream.
Melrose, on the other hand, has a Barbie smile plastered on her face. I don't know if she thinks that showing emotion is weakness, or if she's 100% confident that she's got it in the bag, but she looks completely Stepford.
CariDee thanks Tyra for the opportunity and all the judges for their expertise and encouragement.
Melrose says that she has come a long way, especially in her understanding of others (LIE!!!), and she's in complete shock that she's in the Final Two. (No, she's not.)
And America's Next Top Model is...
CaRiDee!!!
She freaks and asks, "Where's my alarm clock?" It's all very cute and exactly what you'd expect from her, and I'm sooooooo happy she won!
And now here's my thoughts on the outcome: As much as I hate to admit it, Melrose did give a much more consistant performance through the whole competition. CariDee is awesome, but if there was a gun to my head, or a knife to my Coach purse, I'd have to say that I think Melrose deserved to win, more than CariDee.
But why didn't she? Because she's a bitch. Because all the girls hated her, and Tyra knew even before editing started that, if all the girls hated her, the audience would hate her, too. And if they picked The Bitch Who Everyone Hates to be America's Next Top Model, well, that's might jeopardize next season's ratings, no?
Melrose lost because she's a bitch. And I'm glad because, if she had won, it would have sent a very bad message to America's young people. Won't someone please think of the children?!
In her exit interview, Melrose says that she feels really misunderstood. Oh, so she didn't call CariDee a ho? That word just came out wrong? She was talking about gardening tools?
She's all, "I worked really hard and got called a bitch the whole time."
You sure did, Melissa Rose. You sure did.
Posted at 06:22 AM | Comments (1)December 08, 2006
Stella Bella
We went to visit our puppy last weekend, since she's not old enough to leave her mother, yet. And I learned something that day -- black dogs are very hard to photograph.
But I did my best...
And yes, I have every intention of standing on the back porch yelling, "Stelllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" While she's in the back yard. That's the whole purpose of the name!
Also in the running for names -- Xena and Heidi. Yeah, I put Xena forward as a joke so Husband would take the other two possibilities more seriously. You know, kinda like, "Mom, Dad, I have a terminal brain tumor. I'm kidding! I'm just gay!"
But he went for it! He wants to name her Xena! *sigh* It's so hard to use reverse-psychology on him because I never know when he's gonna go completely mental.
Posted at 08:04 AM | Comments (5)December 05, 2006
"The Girl Who Grates"
Grates what? Cheese? Weird episode title. Previously, on "America's Next Top Model," Michelle wussed out. Everything else was pretty much the same.
Tyra's maniacal eyes at the ending of the opening titles scare the shit outta me.
Okay, how is Kate Moss still working? If I backed a dump truck full of cocaine up to my office and started shoveling it into my desk drawers, along with a 1,000-pack of bendy-straws, I'm pretty sure I'd at least be on probation. And I sure as shit wouldn't be on t.v. representing my company or any product or anything.
Amanda talks about her sister, "If you hadn't said that, you'd still be here. But would I? She made a sacrifice for me." Awwwwww.
CariDee invites Amanda to cuddle in her room if she gets lonely. Which never happens, so I might as well just end this recap here.
Tyra Mail! Something about, "In this business, you meet many pros, so try to keep from stepping on toes."
The girls meet Noama and his translator. CariDee calls him Nacho. He's going to teach the girls how to work with a partner. A male partner. WooooOOOOOooooo, goes the studio audience.
Amanda is scared of dancing. And dancing is scared of Amanda. Eugene used to dance jazz and ballet, so she's in the clear. Melrose keeps messing up and having to start over. Because she can't improvise. Because she's a robot.
Eugena says that, "Amanda looks awkward, as usual." Melrose says that, "Amanda has two left feel." Wenchie says that, "Amanda looks like Jack Skellington. Only not as graceful."
They will all be tested tomorrow on what they've learned. BUT FIRST! Dinner with Miss J, who is wearing a doily on his/her head.
Miss J says that there are soooo many things he is dying to ask and dying to say, but he doesn't get a chance at judging. Because Tyra hates him. Miss J asks Eugena a question, but she can hardly get out one sentence before Melrose just cuts her off and starts in with her ass-kissing routine. The girls exchange WTF? looks.
CariDee interviews that she seriously thinks that Mel has multiple personalities (all of them bitches) and needs to be medicated.
Tyra Mail! There's a photoshoot, I guess.
Melrose interviews that she feels "100% confident" about the dance routine and doesn't want to "over-practice." Uh oh! Someone's getting cocky! Now, what was it that cometh before a fall? Amanda, on the other hand, stays up late to go over the steps.
Eugena and CariDee exchange sweet nothings while lying in bed. CariDee has Eugena feel her smooth pits. They are madly in love and agree that they should both be in the Final Two. CariDee inarticulately tries to convey the following: She doesn't want Melrose to win, but if she herself has to lose to someone, she would want it to be Eugena.
Melrose interviews that she doesn't like CariDee and is not interested in friendship. And I have to wonder if she went into the competition with that attitude, or if was just the natural product of her personality? Actually, I don't have to wonder that much.
The girls have to work with a partner and will be judged on their ability to do so. And their ability to not suck. They change into their tacky flamenco dresses.
Mel immediately starts to spaz that her dress is too long and they won't be able to see her feet. Pay attention, boys and girls -- this is what is known as foreshadowing.
CariDee and Jose dance, showing much attraction between them. I'm starting to think CariDee is a slut, which just makes me love her all the more.
Eugena and Oscar dance very elegantly.
Amanda is working pretty hard to keep up with Grua, but she still manages to have a sweet expression on her face.
Melrose and Angel... well, Angel moves his arms at a different time than he usually did, and Mel is completely thrown off. Now, I don't know anything about dancing, but in singing, you're supposed to know your part so well that someone could sing an entirely different song in your ear, and you just keep going. Mel makes a lot of mistakes, and I laugh maniacally in my recliner. Then she totally breaks down crying hysterically. It's a beautiful thing.
The judges choose Eugena! And Eugena chooses... Amanda? WHAT?! After the smooth arm pit caressing? And all the loving words and shy glances? She doesn't pick CariDee?
Well, CariDee interviews that she's totally okay with it because Amanda hasn't gotten the chance to share in any prize. Awwwwwwww.
The prize is presents -- Eugene gets two, Amanda gets one. I guess there's some designer named Custo? They both get jackets, and Eugena gets a shirt, too. They're kinda shiny and patchworky and ugly.
CariDee is genuinely excited for them, so Custo must be a big deal. Mel is so irritated by CariDee's unselfish happiness. She's all, "Some of the girls' attitudes are so diva. I'm over CariDee."
The girls are taken to another photo shoot (did I miss a Tyra Mail?), and Jay brings out Tyra. How come she has to be introduced and make an entrance? Can't she just be there with Jay? Anyhoo, Tyra is going to direct the photo shoot because she misses all the bossing around she did in Cycles One and Two.
For this shoot, the girls are going to be floating on their backs in the water. Um, don't you have to have some amount of body fat to float? I'm just sayin'.
The girls are paired up -- CariDee and Amanda, and Melrose and Eugena. The latter two are not happy. They are to be "ethereal nymphs floating in the water," the trick of which is to arch your back, they are told. Like, who doesn't know that?
Oh. And? The water is COLD. Which I'm sure they did just to fuck with them.
Melrose interviews that, "I'm good, but Eugena is struggling." Jay asides, "Don't these two hate each other?" Hee!
Eugena interviews that she hopes she doesn't "look like a cold, dead fish." Jay says she looks like she's drowning.
Amanda and CariDee get in the water, and Amanda is really stiff. Just like her sister. Stiff and ugly. You know who would have rocked this shoot? BROOKE!
CariDee is really cold. Like really, really, freakishly cold. Another instance where a little body fat would come in handy. CariDee is soon convulsing with the cold and has to be helped out of the water.
Mel is all, "Oh, she's just doing it for the drama and attention." Yeah, Mel, I'm sure she's risking getting cut from the competition because you haven't been paying enough attention to her. Shut up. Jay thinks she has hypothermia.
Amanda gets the last 50 frames by herself, which really worries CariDee. I'm worried, too. She can't leave!
Tyra Mail! Judging.
CariDee is at home in bed and doesn't feel good.
At judging, Tyra is in her black bustier corset thing again. I can't believe she wore the same thing twice in the same season. I'm horrified.
Melrose and Eugene come forward to see their photos, and Tyra makes them do their flamenco dance. The judges call them mermaids and say their photo looks like it belongs in the Cistene Chapel.
But in the flamenco photo, the judges are horrified by Amanda's foot. She's obviously mid-pivot in the photo, and her one foot is turned at a weird angle. She does it for them again, and they're totally freaked out. Okay then.
Tyra had to flamenco dance at a Victoria's Secret fashion show once, and once she was on stage, she forgot everything she had been taught and "improvised." Looked like the convulsions of a dying ostrich. It's hilarious. And what a bitch to make them do something she couldn't pull off.
Tyra makes Miss J dance with her. He's thinking about his paycheck the whole time to get through it.
Amanda and CariDee get called forward and told they were very good. They talk about CariDee's "hypothermia" incident and fawn over how she doesn't look cold in any of her photos. Then she gets lectured on knowing her limits and telling the photographer when she's had enough. Wait -- didn't someone get sent home for doing just that last season?
Amanda, on the other hand, had to have her face photoshopped in from one of her shots that were taken alone. Geez, even with more shots, she can't give a good one.
Deliberations.
Melrose never disappoints, but the judges get the sense that she's trying too hard.
Eugena is too withdrawn.
CariDee gives good face, but Nigel calls her "high maintenance." I didn't see him in the water, did you? Yeah. Me neither.
Amanda has no coordination, and they want to lose her face.
Eliminations.
When the girls come back into the room, Tyra's corset is off center. What the hell were they doing that got her corset twisted? And more importantly -- HOW???
Melrose can stay, but she's told to lose the veneer.
Eugena stays by the skin of her teeth because they see constant improvment.
CariDee and Amanda are in the Bottom Two. Amanda has the edgey look that high fashion loves, but she's too awkward and meek. CariDee has too much personality and not enough control.
But CariDee stays and cries with happiness! Melrose is not happy.
Amanda soliliquises that it's always hard when something good ends, and she had a lot of fun. She feels like she just got broken up with. I hope she drunk-dials Tyra every night.
Next week, the girls shoot the dreaded Cover Girl commercial and walk "the weirdest runway yet."
Posted at 07:11 PM | Comments (0)December 01, 2006
The Big Announcement
First of all, do you know how HARD it's been to keep this quiet since August (when I first got the okay from Husband)?! Oh, how I've longed to tell you, my muffins, since you are part of the reason this means so much to me! Yes, YOU!
In August, Husband finally relented to my relentless pleading and gave his blessing for me to cut my work hours to part time. That's right, I said...
PART TIME!!!
More time for blogging! More time for exercising (both myself AND Daisy)! More time for cooking decent food! More time for doing the hundreds of things Husband can't help me with because he works 1,000 hours per week to support me!
Oh, it's just gonna be so awesome for so very many reasons! *sigh* So sublimely content...
Anyhoo, I finally gave my official, written request to Head Boss a couple weeks ago, immediately after everything went down with the G.M. H.B. had to talk to the C.E.O., but his initial reaction was completely positive. Wheeeeee!
Meanwhile, G.M. is still on the warpath, so I'll feel much better when all the details are all settled, and I can stop worrying that he'll worm his way in and find some way to screw me.
Every Monday morning, the V.P.s and other such bigwigs have a meeting just to "touch base" on what's going on with the various departments for the upcoming week.
At this meeting last week, G.M. told H.B. that he wants me to distribute the mail every morning from now on. This job, for the past three years, has belonged to his assistant's assistant. But now, apparently, it's my job. Enh, no biggie. It's not hard. I don't know why the fuck the G.M.A.A. can't do it any longer, but whatever.
G.M. is clearly looking for a.) busy-work for me to do; and b.) revenge. But there's no reason I can't do it, and it makes H.B. soooooooooo happy when I'm a "team player," so I kindly agreed.
THEN, G.M. told H.B. that he would also like for me to do Switchboard Relief every other day. I HHHHHHHHHATE Switchboard Relief.
Our receptionist sits in our front lobby and mans the phones and such. She gets two 15-minute breaks per day, and a 45 minute lunch. However, she has been known to stretch those breaks to 40 minutes, and all her lunches are well past an hour long.
So, in addition to being a big waste of my time, and a big waste of company money to pay me to sit and read, it's boring, and I don't like interacting with strangers, in person or otherwise. Also? I don't type 120 words a minute so I can "direct your call."
Now, G.M.A.A. is supposed does Switchboard Relief full time, also. As she has been since the invention of the telephone. But now, G.M. wants me to do it. I can't begin to describe how fucking livid this makes me.
So H.B. goes, "Well, I just agreed and played along because he doesn't know that you'll be part time in another month!"
I totally high-fived him for that one. But now, G.M. knows that we're in talks. Luckily, there's huge shit going down regarding company changes for 2007, so he doesn't have a lot of energy to devote to my persecution at the moment.
Anyhoo, after the Monday morning meeting, H.B. went in and talked to the C.E.O of the company, THEE head guy. H.B. explained what I had asked for and that he was happy to work with me that way, and you know what C.E.O. said?
He said, "That's fine. Whatever you two want to work out between you is fine with me."
BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT A NORMAL BIGWIG SHOULD DO! Trust his underlings to do the right thing and leave them to sort out the details.
Ohhhhhhh, but not G.M. He's not gonna let me do what I want without a fight. H.B. and I will iron things out with the H.R. person, and then he'll come in and start nit-picking and find something he doesn't want to let me have. Mark my words.
Mind you, I'm not asking for anything extravagant. Just half. Half work days, half sick days, half vacation days. It's all simple and logical. But he won't want me to have it all, just on principle. I have dared to defy him so many times; I'm evading his switchboard-relief clutches (after December) -- he won't let me have it for the simple fact that I want it.
But I've anticipated this. I've got a couple cards up my sleeve, and I'm not tipping them to him just yet. He wants a fight? Bring it. I'll not be made his bitch.
Keep your eye on the Countdown in my sidebar -- that's how many full time work days I have left.
Posted at 12:14 PM | Comments (2)