Thar She Blows!!!

Timber!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm so bizarrely fried from my re-entry into the work world that I can't manage a post tonight, so perhaps more to come over the weekend. But, I will say this--I knew my pixie cut/Liza Minnelli/housecleaning Janet wasn't gonna stick around for too long. Sigh.

And with this episode's being the Janet and Ambreal show, you knew the two of 'em were SUNK.

Discuss amongst yourselves.

Until my energy returns, you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model!

Hey. Make Me Over. Tell Me Do You Like What You See.

Haircuts all around today, as I too happen to have gotten a bit of a makeover in the form of a cute short pixie cut (not that I haven’t had this before, but I had been growing it out of late and decided to go back to the choppers, as I always do) as well as several new items for my wardrobe which now needs to include fancy new work clothes thanks to the fancy new job I just landed! So in the spirit of the beloved Top Model make over episode, as well as my own foray into a new look (i.e. no more Danskos to work!) I’m going to get right to business and deliberate immediately!

Ambreal: Not a dramatic change, but if she can work on more dynamic facial expressions, she could be the silent killer of the cycle.

Bianca: Someone should have shaved that girl’s head ages ago. Screw the wig—I was FLOORED by how stunning she looks with an eighth of an inch of hair. And as painfully trying as Bianca was last week, it seems this week she was humbled by her haircut and was quite the trooper where other girls would have griped endlessly about getting buzzed. Kudos to Bianca for rocking her look and attitude.

Chantal: I know she’s pretty, but bad baby’s breath pic aside, I still don’t see her with any amount of modeling moxie. The straight hair and bangs are nice, but she better get over herself and buck up. If she’s so obsessed with wanting to be a model, you’d think she’d have figured out that she just needed to kick it during the shoot and not whine and cry about too much direction. Suck. It. Up.

Ebony: This girl is killin’ me. Someone please put her out of her misery. I liked her better on the cruise when she was a beeyotch.

Heather: No make over needed. Stunning as is.

Janet: As a redheaded pixie cut girl myself, I was super bummed they changed my pixie cut girl Janet’s color, but she looks divine in the black. And once they compared her to the divine Liza Minnelli, I was sold. In my world, Liza's a religion unto herself. In fact, I am now so moved by the spirits of Liza and Janet, that I’m debating making the change to a soft black myself. And yes, the pic on my Blogger profile is me with dark hair, but it was burgundy and not black and it was brief and I went back to red shortly thereafter. This is, of course, probably what will happen again, shortly after I make my hair dark which will probably happen tomorrow. My hairdressers LOVE me.

Jenah: She’s pretty spectacular and she’s already booking jobs with Parisian photographers… As my friend E. always says, "le sigh."

Lisa: I’m willing to bet there’s absolutely nothing anyone could do to this girl to make her look bad. I might have liked to have seen her with an edgier hairstyle (Tyra was right in wanting to see it straightened), but whatev. She’s gorgeous no matter what.

Saleisha: Like we couldn’t see her spot in the bottom two coming. It was about time she got her comeuppance after so much gloating about the house last week. She looks quite lovely with her new cut (Very Veronica Webb, I think, but that might be because I’m so in love with Veronica right now, thanks to Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style. I want everyone in the world to be Veronica. Including me. Saleisha probably has a better shot.), but her picture really did su-uck.

Sarah: Every week I forget Sarah exists. Can’t ever remember anything about her and she never seems to stand out. I like her haircut though and she did take a good photo and win the challenge. But I’ve already forgotten her in the time it took me to type the last sentence.

Victoria: Like we didn’t see this one coming, part deux. The editors spent the whole episode making sure we were well aware that modeling was never Victoria’s dream; that she believes high fashion is ridiculous; and that she’d much prefer to wear sneakers, a t-shirt, and hit the library. Those of us who know our Top Model history, know exactly what all of that means: Striii-iiike!You’re outta there (in the spirit of major league baseball play offs)! Oh well. She was entertaining if not a bit prickly indeed. Although, she exited graciously by proclaiming she would rather go home than take some girl's dream. Although, now that I think about it, this just makes it sound like it was really her choice to go, rather than her admitting her own failure, which is not gracious at all, just smug and passive aggressive. No room in Top Modeling for that. Strike two (of course she's already out, so maybe that's just more of a foul ball)!

Until next week, you are still in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Model!

And in Top Model alumni news, check this out! Hint: it's crazy Lisa from Cycle 5, of *peed in an adult diaper fame.* Oh, if only I could hear Bre's response to this little video item.
Thanks to K. for the tip!!

Holy Crap! This is Real!

This photo has nothing to do with last night's episode, but speaks to two things: 1. How HOT Jaslene is and 2. How uninspired I was by anyone else last night.

Famous last words from the girl who got the boot, "Holy crap! This is real!" As Kimberly uttered her revelation, I realized I often think the same thing. Sometimes, I can't believe this show is real.

They say that boredom is nothing but a lack of intellectual curiosity. I believe that to be largely true, but on the other hand, sometimes boredom is just a lack of intellect and perhaps that is what caused my complete boredom during last night's Top Model. Stupidity abounds, and well, sometimes, I just can't believe it's real. And sometimes, I just can't take it. Is anyone with me?

It was only episode two and already, I was sick to death of Bianca and her faux uber competitiveness (sorry honey, even without the red hair, I still don't think you'd be high fashion), tired beyond tired of Saleisha's yammering on about her modeling experience (such a shocker that she won the challenge while Bianca ended up in the bottom two again--quelle surprise!), and totally disenchanted with yet another fake fashion show (like I'm so sure that designer put on a real show with only the Top Model contestants on the runway. As IF.).

All I have the energy to say, really, is too bad that Kimberly was sent packing instead of Bianca. I was finally starting to like Kim, although I was concerned about her lofty goal of being a role model for ordinary girls. I feel like she meant well, but...

As for deliberations, I'm not even going to go through model by model, that's how BORED I'm feeling. I agree with the judges that the highlights were Jenah and Heather with the likes of Lisa and Chantal close on their high, rock-climbing heels. I thought Ebony and Bianca were particularly awful while Janet, Victoria, and Sarah kinda hovered in the middle.

All I can say now is AMEN--next week is the makeover episode. Praise the lord and pass the weaves and highlights!

Until next week, you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model.

What Have You Done Today...?

If you watch The Biggest Loser, as I always do, you know how the song goes: “What have you done today to make yourself proud?!” This is an interesting question to pose after having watched a TIVOed episode of last night’s Loser immediately followed by tonight’s Top Model. You can just imagine…

But first, I have to ponder, what have I, Gigi, done today to make myself proud? It’s tough to find things that make me swell with pride in my unemployed existence, but perhaps I can find some nugget if I recall my day. Hmm…let’s see…to begin with, I stayed in bed until 10am as Stu and I have been battling a now three-day bout of insomnia, which is not helped by the fact that I seem to have developed an allergy to, well, air conditioning. As a result, I have been spending my days with a constantly dripping and irritated nose. And as it’s been 90 freaking degrees in Philadelphia this week, I’m doomed to not sleep due to overheating if we turn off the A/C, or over nose-running if we leave it on. It’s not a win-win situation.

When I finally pulled my ass out of bed, I spent a few moments wallowing in self pity over my exhausted state. Then I read my morning news, aka The Superficial and Go Fug Yourself . After my usual Wednesday morning, hour-plus phone date with L. in Seattle, I colored my hair, despite the fact that I just had it done at a salon two weeks ago. Needless to say, it wasn’t quite to my liking. My new color isn’t really up to snuff either, but I made the effort. After coloring, I caught up on some email, had some lunch, and decided that even though I was taking a day off from the gym, I had to get outside and get some form of exercise.

Now this, I might be proud of—I took a two hour walk and topped it off with 10 runs up the Philadelphia Art Museum steps. You know, the Rocky steps? Actually, they’re not nearly as hard to get up as one might imagine, but by schlep #7, I was pretty pooped and therefore pretty psyched to have made it to 10 since my original plan was only 5. If Jillian Michaels had been standing at the top, she would have been very proud of me, I am quite certain.

As for the reality show contestants for whom the song was actually written, I’ve never actually blogged about Biggest Loser before, other than the time I interviewed some peeps who were auditioning for the show in Seattle, and I’m not quite sure how to go about it. I really can’t make fun of anyone because who could critique their efforts? However, I might pause to say that I’m not really sure why the blue team thought it was a good idea for Neil to take a hit and consume mass quantities of crap (tasty as I’m sure all that crap was!) just for a three pound pass. And why on earth did Patty find it necessary to pad the calorie count just because she thought Neil might not have followed through on the plan? And while I was sorry to see Jerry go, I might have to call him the Sorest Loser now. He certainly looks great post-elimination, but his departure was a bit bitter.

Anywho…my favorite part of Biggest Loser, aside from oh, every single minute and Jillian Michaels whom I lovelovelove (Actually, I heart Bob as well, but I so don’t like Kim AT ALL), is how much I cry. So I’m thinking that each week I might just do a short post pointing out some highlights and then perhaps keeping a Cry Count. As anyone who knows me knows, I am a SUCKA for the triumph of the human spirit and the great lengths and efforts one will go to to make life changes. So for me, the Biggest Loser is one big cry fest, so moved am I by everyone on that damn show. So this week’s tear count: 8. Yes, I cried eight times during this two hour episode. I need to think about buying stock in Puffs Plus.

But enough of tissues and on to models! As I asked before, what have you done today, to make yourself proud? I overcame exhaustion and congestion to run up and down steps (in 90 degree heat, mind you!), and the biggest losers, well they get to be proud every moment of every damn day. But what about the models? What have they done to make themselves proud? Well, thanks to Tyra they have solved the environmental crisis, wiped out smoking, and educated the public on the ways of Autism and Asperger Syndrome.

Oh yes, according to the Top Model vehicle, “Green is the new black!” and Tyra is apparently nothing but message focused this go round. And thankfully, Mila is supportive of Tyra’s efforts, claiming that it’s important to “keep the earth good.” Booya!

Mila, apparently also thinks that chemotherapy is a hoot. I guess she didn’t learn that smoking is NOT COOL, which Tyra is so desperate to convey. She’s even gone so far as to make Cycle 9 a *no-smoking* cycle because as only Ty Ty can, she’s “taking a stand.” Booya!

And one more thing of which ANTM can be proud, they’re teaching the world about Autism and Asperger Syndrome and thank god for that since education is clearly in need. I couldn’t tell which model asked Asperger Heather, “So do you like see the world differently than me?” Booya!

Editor’s note before I move on to deliberations: Here’s what else I am ridiculously proud of today—as I am blogging about Top Model, Stu is watching Ken Burns’ World War II documentary. Are my priorities in order or what? Booya!

I’m done saying booya now. I just recently saw that awesome scene from 30 Rock in which booya is a key punch line and I just want to use it all the time. I’ll stop. I promise.

Ambreal: She does have quite a neck. She should be around for a while.

Bianca: You knew she was doomed to the bottom two just cuz she was such a beeyotch to bikini dancer Lisa. But you also knew she wasn’t going anywhere just yet…

Chantal: I can see the bedroom eyes thing, but I still can’t wrap my head around why she’s so spectacular. I know, I know, I’ll wait for the makeover episode.

Ebony: She pulled a fast one on us! They bitchy girl is supposed to pull out a killer photo and prove everyone wrong. She froze and got all insecure on our asses. Eva would never have done such a thing.

Heather: Aw yeah! Aw yeah! My Asperger girl pulls it OUT. Even in a photo with another model, who also looked pretty damn good, Heather’s face is riveting. And how planted was Nigel’s question about Asperger so that Tyra could share her vast knowledge? It’s all about the message, people. Tyra is continually teaching us about the ways of this great world in which we live.

Janet: You know I love the pixie cut girls and I think Janet rocked her shot. Twiggy may not see model, and somehow my cute pixie cut girls never make it, but I’ve got their backs.

Jenah: She’s quite lovely. Let’s see how long she lasts having to quit smoking cold turkey. She had quite the look of terror on her face despite proudly renouncing her dirty habit the minute she saw her photo. Has she never seen those ads where they show you the ugly side of smoking and everyone is all gross and dead? She had to wait until her own fictional disfigurement to quit? It gives one pause.

Kimberly: Don’t like her. Don’t know why. Just don’t like her.

Lisa: Pole or no pole, Lisa kicked it. You knew either she or Bianca had to be in the top two so the other could be in the bottom two, just to fuel the drama fire. Oh sure they’ve apologized now, but now that one’s at the bottom and one is at the *wanna be on TOP*…

Mila: Did I call this one or did I call this one? I feel completely justified in wondering why on earth she even made it on to the cruise, let alone into the final thirteen. And honestly, I’m pretty sure the girl is on crack. She “concentrates on the positives so the negatives go away.” And did you notice, not one tear when she had to pack her belongings and go home. That has got to be an ANTM first. Did you notice how Tyra was trying to remind her that going home first sucks? Nothing. It’s all about the positive. It’s all about the crack.

Saleisha: She did manage to pick out the cutest Old Navy outfit, and she did look lovely in her pic, but not compared to HEATHER!

Sarah: Pretty. Anyone else got anything on Sarah?

Victoria: Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah!! Smarty pants took a good picture! She’s almost as awkward as Asperger girl. I think they should be the final two. Imagine that runway.

Until next week, you are still in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Model!!

Cargo Capris are for Ditch Digging

If cargo capris are, according to Veronica Webb, solely for ditch digging (but how about that parallel alliteration, folks!), then perhaps this explains why my relocation to the City of Brotherly Love has turned into a move to the City of Why-the-hell-can't-Gigi-find-gainful-employment. Clearly, I've been barking up the wrong proverbial, professional tree. With my great love of cargo capris, I should obviously be toiling away in the Philly humidity day after day, lobbing pounds of dirt from a shovel in order to create holes in the ground. Let me tell you, this is not a career to which I am well suited for various reasons. But apparently it is a career for which I am well attired. As much as I love Tim Gunn, I love my cargo capris perhaps a tad more.

This is blasphemy according to Tim and Veronica. Strangely however, after listening to a voicemail my fahsionista mother just left me, Maman (she's fashionable and French!) disagrees. She called to say she watched the first half of last night's Guide to Style episode and then fell asleep, but before drifting off, she had the wherewithal to declare her belief that capris do not make everyone look short and dumpy. Amen and hallelujah, because much like last night's fashion makeover Nicole, as someone who refuses to wear shorts (and really, no one over thirty should, at least not in public), my summer ensemble usually revolves around the capri pant. Hell, even my winter wardrobe revolves around the capri pant--a switch from kicky sneaks to kicky high-heeled boots and we are, voila, season appropriate!

So my mother and I stand opposed to the belief that the capri pant has, as Tim suggested, contributed to the "slobification of America." And according to Veronica, slobification has resulted from mothers losing all fashion sense, a trend of epidemic proportions (call the CDC!). Veronica was honest enough to unabashedly admit to having fallen victim to the sloppy mommy virus, if one can believe such a thing. Yes, she divulged that she had, for a brief period of time, joined the park mommy set, wearing all sorts of capri and track pants (my other favorite item!) while pushing around her offspring with the other reproducers loitering beside the jungle gym.

And here I digress for a moment to discuss my great and newly discovered love of Veronica Webb. I find her delightfully bitchy while simultaneously wonderfully gracious. And watching Top Model on a Wednesday and Tim Gunn's Guide to Style on a Thursday, pitting the two host super models against one another, is most intriguing. When you think about Tyra and compare Veronica, well, let's just say therein lies the difference between the CW and Bravo, shall we? Let's put it this way, could you ever see Tyra co-hosting a show with the ever poised, ever proper Tim Gunn? You know I love my Tyra, but that Veronica...

And man, that Veronica has the best clothes on this show! Not to make another Ty Ty comparison, but as we all know, Tyra has made some extremely questionable fashion choices lo these nine cycles of Top Model. Conversely, Veronica is impeccably dressed in every shot--even in a hoodie (yet another favorite clothing item of mine!). Did you see the red v-neck hoodie? If I were to want to bear children in any way, I would give my first one for that item. And that would probably be the only one since, I, like Tim, after about an hour with many toddlers, have to send them back to the kitchen. I mean, their parents (Note to family and friends with little ones: you know I love YOURS!).

And with talk of hoodies and kiddies, the gist of this week's episode was that one need not be a sloppy mommy. One can easily be a stylish mommy with the help of a professional stylist, a super model, and a former cast member of Project Runway, who has to be the most fashionable mother of all times (not including mine, bien sur!). Unfortunately however, with her new Barbara Streisand a la 1969 hair style, Laura Bennett looks a bit more tranny than she did last year. But whatever her true gender, I still adore her. Aside from creating gorgeous, although derivative clothes, I will always love her because of that one shot from the first episode of last season's Project Runway in which Laura was shown in a perfect, white, fitted shirt and lovely black dress pants, standing calm, cool, and collected in her drool-with-jealousy worthy New York apartment, staring blissfully out of a floor-to-ceiling window as her five boys beat the crap out of each other and scream like holy hell mere feet away. I don't have one child, let alone five (now six for Laura) who pummel each other on what seems like an hourly basis, and I'm never that serene. I could learn a lot from Laura Bennett.

And, as usual, one can learn a lot from Tim and Veronica. Having watched the show three times now, lessons are obviously the M.O. The narrative is interrupted by Tim's contract, closet-cleaning methods, list of essentials, etc. all meant to continually teach us the basics of fashionable dressing. This is obvious, but what I love is that the true lessons are embedded in the show. So perhaps every episode, I will cull together the best lessons. For this week:

1. A good tailor is better than surgery.
2. A little Movado watch never hurt anyone.
3. Cargo capris are for ditch digging.
4. Formal print sun dresses are for grocery shopping.

Let's discuss this 4th lesson, shall we? In America, what Veronica and Tim dubbed early in the episode as Nicole's Golden Girls sweatsuit, is what we generally wear to run to the grocery store. In France, my mother's motherland, one dresses for the grocery store and everywhere else one might travel in the country, out of respect for the people who would see you. See, here we dress for ourselves, and there, you dress for everyone else. I see the value in the latter, HOWEVER...

However, before the however, I have to tell you that I spent a large portion of my childhood schlepping from store to store with my mother, accompanying her on what seemed like daily fashionista shopping trips, as if they themselves were mere trips to the grocery store. Ironically, every time she randomly popped into a store and tried on some gorgeous cashmere sweater, delightfully dressy dress, or super strappy sandal, she'd say, and I quote, "this would just be good to run to the grocery store in." So, I'm just sayin', I see what Tim and Veronica were going for when they put Nicole in a floral dress with spaghetti straps for errand running, but honestly, folks, you know that Golden Girls sweatsuit is what's getting worn the next time the kiddies cry over their spilled milk and someone needs to run to Pathmark for a gallon of cow juice.

In any event, Nicole did learn to be a fashionable mommy and that's a mighty fine lesson (although I could have done without the weighted vest o' guilt). Maybe not an applicable, every-day lesson, but one should not live by solid t-shirts, capris, and flip flops alone.

And for the record, I didn't like one of those Doug Hannant dresses. Is anyone with me? I hate disagreeing with Tim, but if my mother can do it, well, I guess the apple can stay close to the tree!

Pretty Girls With Stanky Attitudes

I always go for the cute pixie cut girl, which always makes Stu wonder why the hell I'm constantly pissing and moaning about my growing out my short hair. Doesn't he understand that everything looks better on someone who's in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model???

AWWW YEAH...THE BITCH IS BACK.

Well, no one has actually ever called me a bitch, except maybe this one girl who went to college with my best friend from high school and I ended up making out with a guy she hearted for like years and years (value added: he was engaged to someone else, i.e. not me or the girl who'd pined for him for some eternal amount of time). She's probably over thinking that I'm a beeyotch and I'm long over the fact that when I called him a week after the party he totally dissed me. But whatev. Long ago. The time is now and I am back on the blog, baby!!

Much has happened to me since my little Jaslene took the title of America's Next Top Model. And sure, I should have blogged about my summer love, So You Think You Can Dance, but frankly amidst nine bi-coastal flights, four weddings, and a cross country drive which ended in Stu and I relocating our tired asses from Seattle to Philadelphia so he could take a swanko job at a delightful, small, private college, well, the blogging spirit never quite moved me.

I pondered giving up blogging for good, but after tonight's ANTM premiere, after I saw that someone had named her child Spontanioeuse, that someone had uttered the words "pretty girls with stanky attitudes," and that Ty Ty had turned to a model from Yale and said, "c'mon, you know a lot of these girls are dumb," well, I pondered abandoning blogging no more.

The bitch and the models are BACK.

As always, newness abounds in the premiere, the foremost and most disgustingly obvious being the glaring product placement. Although we have seen much blatant product pushing over the cycles, none were quite so, how shall I put it, FUCKING ENORMOUS as tonight's. We're talking tanker HUGE. We're talking, A FREAKING CRUISE SHIP. Oh, yes the folks at the CW have outdone themselves and put this year's hopeful models on a cruise. Bad enough as that is, the floating hotel wouldn't have been so tacky if it weren't for Miss Jay's needless monologue about the vast list of amenities available on said cruise liner. Like we really needed to know that there was an ice skating rink on board. Of course we did, because of course the models had a jolly good time chucking fake snowballs at each other whilst circling the ice. Wow. I must remember to jot down the name of this cruise ship that I totally can't recall even though they showed it a cajillion times because now that I've seen the top models aboard such a vessel, I know it's the perfect vacay spot for me! That's advertising dollars hard at work people.

So, ahoy matey! On to deliberations! Or more just commentary really since no one has been eliminated just yet. Oh sure like 90 girls got sent home tonight, but I don't have the wherewithal to talk about all of 'em. Just the remaining thirteen then:

Ambreal: Quite lovely. Good spirited. Sold.

Bianca: I'm reserving judgment for after they get rid of her $25 weave in the makeover episode.

Chantal: Yeah, I guess she's modelesque. I'm guessing she gets eliminated early on. At least she would be if I were Tyra for a day.

Ebony: Ah, shades of Ebony from cycle 1 and Eva Diva from cycle 3. The girl who drives everyone else in the house NUTS, but underneath the beeyotchiness is pain and vulnerability. Sniff. Sniff.

Heather: Lovelovelove the Asperger Syndrome Hunchback of Notre Dame! Seriously, she is gorgeous and as Tyra and the Jays said, everything high fashion is concave anyway. So she'll never stick her chest out and spread her legs for Sports Illustrated.

Janet: My new pixie cut pick! My early fave aside from Asperger girl. Janet has quite the dancer's stance and walk, even though she's a waxer. I suppose the two are not mutually exclusive, however.

Jenah: Don't remember a thing about her except for her stunning face, which either bodes well for her future as a Top Model, or very, very poorly...

Kimberly: Nope, can't recall a thing about this chick either than when I first saw her, I thought her eyes were too wide set. Too early to judge. And you know there are those early low hanging fruits you don't need to pay attention to anyway.

Lisa: I've got a soft spot for the bikini dancer. Definitely in the running.

Mila: Mila is my *WTF were they thinking??!!* girl. I don't see it. I don't see her as a model, I don't see her as remotely attractive, and I don't see her as anything but annoying the crap outta me with her "life is a celebration" business. Oh, sure, I like a positive spirit as much as the next gal, but not someone who thinks that like "life is a celebration" translates into like just literally celebrating like holidays, and like birthdays, and like her friends' birthdays...

Saleisha: I'm down with the girl who went to the Tyra Inspirational Institute. Clearly, it worked cuz that girl has got some confidence, but as I'm sure Tyra taught her, it's a confidence mixed with a dash of humility. Excellent recipe, sure to win Ty Ty's heart every week. Although be afraid people, be very afraid, Tyra's gonna be harder on her. One can only wish for another Tiffani-like tirade from Tyra.

Sarah: Eh, whatever. Pretty, whatever.

Victoria: Awkward smarty pants from Yale rules! I always root for the high I.Q. girls. They've yet to make it, cuz they just can't hang on for the entire, as Stu likes to call it, "ride of the braniacs."

Jaslene: Just had to take a moment to discuss the new My Life as a Cover Girl spot with my beloved Cha Cha Diva, who Stu thinks is abysmally unattractive, but as you all know, I find divinely gorgeous, at least in photographs. So the spot wasn't too horrific, she's certainly lively and enthusiastic enough, however, what the hell did they do to her hair in the narration segments? She has this great dark and shiny, free-flowing mane and they gave her some sort of Teddy Roosevelt, parted-in-the-middle helmet. I might start to see what Stu is talking about if they keep that stylist on staff.

Until next week, dear readers, you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model!

I'm off to watch my TIVOed episode of Gossip Girl!

The Giants Win the Pennant! The Giants Win the Pennant!

Perhaps Jaslene's win isn't as historically significant, but when they showed her winning face on that screen tonight, I felt as giddy as a Giants fan in 1951.

The girls I pick as my faves never seem to win so I spent the entire season rooting and cheering for our delightful cha-cha diva, worried at every turn that she might be eliminated.

Mother knows best though and since she has never failed to pick a Top Model winner, I should have trusted what she said two weeks ago. I was at her house in NY when Brittany's go-see debacle aired. My mother thought Brit was the girl with the most model potential, but when Brit got the boot, I shouted out, "Mom, your pick just got canned! Who's gonna win now?!" Mom walked over to the TV, paused momentarily, surveyed the remaining girls, and said, "Ahhhh, that one," pointing to Jaslene, "That girl you like."

For the record, Mom did not like Natasha one bit so I shouldn't have worried, but when Tyra thought that Natasha was stronger on the runway (NOT!), I got a bit nervous. But of course my kicky Jaslene pulled it out, and BROKE IT DOWN. A-freakin'-men!!

Until next season, you are ALL in the running towards becoming the next top model!

And as for me, I'm home for now but have a few more trips to take so my posting will still be a bit scarce, but I should be settled down just in time for the Top Chef premiere...get those knives unpacked!!

tv on a school night will return after these messages

Just like the Top Models, I'm hitting the road. And since tonight is the dreaded airing of the always hellaciously boring recap episode, it seems like the perfect time to announce a tv on a school night hiatus.

Not only am I off on a business trip next week from which I will not return until mid-May, but due to my now legendary and still harrowing treadmill incident, as of today (after a much needed doctor's appointment), my injured left hand has been sentenced to 4-6 weeks in a splint! ARRRGGGHHHH!!!

Needless to say, I am not particularly thrilled about this as the bulky item now tightly velcroed around my hand, wrist, and forearm makes it a BEEYATCH to type. So perhaps it's for the best that I take a break.

And, since I already know I will be out and about while I'm out of town on the night of the Top Model finale, I will report on the TIVOed episode that will be waiting for me upon my return. It might even be possible for me not to hear who took the Cover Girl crown before then, so I can enjoy the tension, suspense, and surprise just like the rest of the Top Model watching crowd.

So, until then, we are ALL still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model!

Cat Scratch Fever

What can I say? This was the most boring reality series finale I've ever seen. I spent quite a bit of time between 9 and 10pm scratching and picking at the scabs on my knees, which proved a far more engaging activity than the merciful conclusion of The Search for the Next Doll.

But before I say what little CRAP I have to say about Asia winning this thing, I must relay some extremely important information. And before I do that, I must warn you...

Be afraid, be very afraid.

In fact...I suggest you RUN. FOR THE HILLS. Or wherever you're supposed to go when some scary ass shit is about to GO DOWN.

Brace yourself, folks, for these are the words that flashed across my screen as I went to the CW site for a new PCD picture:

APPLY NOW FOR SEASON TWO OF THE PUSSYCAT DOLLS PRESENT

Wait, I think I need a moment to regain consciousness.

What on earth could they be presenting in a second season? They can't possibly need ANOTHER doll, can they? As it is, the stage seemed pretty crowded once Asia was all up in the PCD business after her win.

Or maybe it's a conspiracy. Maybe Robin is an evil mastermind--she certainly looks like evil and unfriendliness incarnate--plotting to take over the world with an army of lingerie clad ladies, weakening all humans with generic pop songs and repetitive choreography. Hell--the very fiber of my being has already weakened and I've only watched one season. If only Tyra would stop trying to improve young girls' lives and save them from the vagaries of poor self-images long enough to see that she needs to form a Top Model army IMMEDIATELY. Robin and her minions must be stopped.

And now that Asia is officially in the Pussycat Doll Army of Mass Destruction and World Domination, I might be a little scared. That girl dances like she is going to THROW DOWN. Either that...or...well, have you ever gone to the bathroom overseas on one of those toilets that's not actually a toilet, but a hole in the ground with two foot pads on either side so that your stance is kinda wide and you have to squat just a touch just cuz, well, just cuz you have to? Apologies for the graphics, but seriously, could Asia close her legs and stand up straight for like one second during a song?

And I can't believe Ron Fair caved. You know he hates her voice and I do too. Talk to the hand, people.

Between the fact that Robin is going to selfishly search for another doll and that Asia won, I am PISSED. Not cuz I was so invested in who won this damn thing, but because I spent weeks watching this ridiculous show only to have my least favorite girl win. Where's old Sisely when you need her? She may not be the next PCD, but at least she never looked like a twelve year old jumping around on stage with the big kids. I mean, did Asia look like the little sister whose older sibs let her prance around next to them for one night, or what? Or are the rest of the PCDs just Amazons, which would further prove my theory that they're forming an army which will take us all by button-loosening force?

I'm either too frightened or too upset to keep commenting so I leave you with the words of Mikey, the best part of the whole show:
"I don't do cat fights. I do choreography."

Okay, okay, Melissa R. and Asia's 3:20am cat fight was pretty entertaining. But not nearly as entertaining as the fact that another huge chunk of my knee scabs just fell off. Now that's worth flinging a pink boa around for, baby!

Here in My Car

A lot of people don't know this about me: I love cars. I love looking at pictures of them. I love watching car chases in movies. I love singing along to Gary Numan's Cars.

A lot of people know this about me: I hate driving. Despite the fact that I've dreamed of owning a Saab Turbo 900 convertible since 1986, would pay any amount of money for a vintage Ford Mustang, and am still lamenting the loss of my mother's bitchin' yellow 1969 Camaro, my desire to drive is about on par with my desire for root canal. And it's not even that I just don't enjoy being the driver. I'm not much on being a passenger either. I just get all cooped up and antsy in an automobile and would just as soon use my feet whenever possible. And don't even think that's cuz I'm such a big fan of nature and being outdoors. Trust me, it's not. Suffice it to say, while a cross-country move is all but imminent in my near future, a three thousand mile road trip is not likely to be (unless Stu and I decide to keep our car in which case we might have to drive it across the country, in which case, I'll suck it up and figure out a way to make my desire to see the Mall of America and Mount Rushmore outweigh my desire to be on the East coast in six hours rather than six weeks).

However, as long as Monday nights involve Nathan Fillion in a vehicle and Rev Run picking up Diggy in a Rolls Royce Phantom, my vicarious affair with cars will continue.

It's fair to say that I'm now committed to Drive. I wasn't gonna blog about it and I'm still not gonna recap the plot (FOX does that quite nicely), but I'm totally enjoying it, even though it is trashy as all get out. Seriously, it's like some ridiculous D-list show. The scripts are laughable, as is the acting (but not Nathan, bien sur), and the actors are weirdly attractive, but yet, just not that great looking (but again, not Nathan, of course). Like you know if this show was on NBC instead of FOX, the hot lead girl would look a little like more like Evangeline Lily and less like someone who's still living in a studio in Los Angeles just praying that a mid-season replacement show on FOX is going to catapult her to the next level. And the teenage girl would actually be Lindsay Lohan (if you could keep her off the...Red Bull) and not some adolescent who looks frustratingly similar to LaLohan when she was still cruising Long Island. Of course, Nathan Fillion is A-list hot to moi, but I sense that he's getting pigeon-holed in these cultish shows and may have a hard time driving his way out (see how I said Drive? I'm workin' the theme, people).

But crappy dialogue and D-listers aside, Drive has something for everyone and is fun for the whole family, unless, of course, one of your family members has been kidnapped, has a terminal disease, has gone AWOL, has broken parole, or happens to have heard the voice of god before dying in a car crash. I normally despise a *the mysteries go deeper and the secrets unfold every week* shows because they usually bore me to tears by episode three, but either my love of Nathan Fillion, or my love of cars is keeping me on the road with this one (did you catch that? on the road? aw yeah.).

Also on the road this evening was my beloved Rev Run. No secret, illegal, cross-country road race on Run's House. Rev doesn't get much further than Paramus, New Jersey to buy a gorilla suit with which to embarrass Diggy, who is embarrassed that his father keeps meeting the school bus in his Phantom Jaguar. Diggy learns the valuable lesson that one should not be embarrassed by where he has come from and Run learns that a gorilla suit might not have been the best way to teach Diggy that lesson. I learned that I still want Rev Run to adopt me. If nothing else, I just want him to give me that look that he gave Russy when he asked Russy why he thought he would get any mail. Russy replied, "Because I'm a special person." If my dad had been able to give me a look of disdain with as much sarcasm as Rev gave Russy, my life would probably be very different right now.

And most likely, I'd probably drive a Saab Turbo 900 convertible instead of a 1996 Subaru wagon.

The Spreader of Light Darkens Our Wednesday Nights No More

I'm posting a pic of Renee cuz I thought she looked the best this week.
It could happen.
(And the CW hasn't put any pics from Australia up yet so we're stuck with this old one until they get their act together.).

While certainly feeling far more lighthearted than yesterday, perhaps just having noticed that my knees are as puffy as marshmallows (if you're not hip to my treadmill incident extraordinaire, click here and witness the horror) has brought my spirits down a notch. But I'm pretty sure that even if I was on Ecstacy, I might still be overwhelmed by the desire to slap Jael upside the head for deeming herself the Spreader of Light. That's treading on Jade territory, but it was almost forgivable when crap like that came out of Jade's mouth because her residence was in another solar system. I believe Jael actually lives on our planet (hell, she'd have to with all of that interest in grass touching, air breathing, and tree climbing), which makes it all the worse because you can see a faint glimmer of normalcy behind that clenched jaw of hers. Jade was a lost cause so she was just frustratingly good entertainment. Jael is merely frustrating.

On the other hand, Jaslene continues to be just a delight! If a Spreader of Light actually had to be declared, Jaslene would be it. She was just so darn earnest about how thrilled she was to travel to another country, having never been anywhere besides the 'hood and around the corner. And her little furrowed brow as she concentrated so darn hard to say her lines without cue cards just makes me want to put her in my bag (she'd probably fit in a carry-on) and take her to every country in the world.

Okay, back to the Ecstasy for a minute--is Tyra on crack or something? Did anyone else notice that something was seriously up with Ty Ty? First of all she broke with panel tradition and had no head scarf on which threw me all off because she's worn one in every single episode this season. And then, she was all wide eyed and wacked out one minute, talking like she was on speed, and then she was totally pissy and dour the next.

Maybe Tyra could pass some of her sudden mood swings on to April from cycle 2 who showed up to give the girls a lesson in broadcast correspondence. Can we get a couple of those paddles the docs in the ER use to bring coronary patients back to life with an electric jolt? That clip of her actually corresponding--and I use the term loosely--from some glorious beach was DEADLY. I might have preferred to watch Jael do some public speaking and we all know her voice makes me want to jam hot pokers into my ear drums. At least Jael is, well, alive. But I found that April looked a bit odd, like maybe she's had some *work done,* so perhaps she had passed away at some point and some Top Model Frankenstein brought her back to life by sewing rigid facial features back together. This might also be the explanation behind her dealthy dull interviewing style.

So before I pass out from thinking about April any further (although maybe Tyra has some something I can use to perk up), on to deliberations!

Brittany: Perhaps the worst job I've ever had was selling health club memberships. Every day I had to call lapsed members, coerce them, if not down right guilt them, into coming into the gym to look around again and hopefully rejoin. Most people feel extremely guilty about not exercising and when pressed, ramble on about their busy schedules. One day I was making my calls and listening to the usual excuses. About half way through my list, I called a woman and asked her why she hadn't been to the gym in a while. Her response: "Oh, I just got out of a coma." I paused. I paused some more. She laughed. I laughed too. "Oh," I chuckled, "that's a the best excuse I've ever heard!" She laughed some more, "I'm actually not kidding. I have been in a coma. I'm just laughing because it's a weird thing to tell people." Uh huh. "But I'd like to start exercising when I'm fully recovered. Can I call you then?" Sure. My point being, who freaking knew Brit had brain damage!? She still looks beautiful and really, if she wins, she does one cycle of those dumb Cover Girl spots and then she'll be lucky to get print work in a crafting magazine like April, so her short term memory problem shouldn't really be an issue past, say mid-2008.

Dionne: Eh. Not much to report on the Dionne front tonight. No great zingers unless you count her use of "mumbo jumbo," but that's not all that thrilling and neither was anything she did this evening.

Jael: She looked oddly good in that blue wig as she was making her exit. Or maybe I was just really excited to see her go.

Jaslene: Oh, my little skinny Janice Dickinson! She's coming back. That would be Jaslene who's coming back, not Janice. Although Janice hasn't appeared this cycle--it might be time. But she's probably so busy with what I believe to be her fake, made-for-TV modeling agency, that she probably doesn't have time.

Natasha: I don't know if I thought her commercial was the best, but it was pretty damn good all considering. Plus I was pretty impressed with her correspondence and her use of Aussie slang. And speaking of Aussies, I haven't commented on Sydney as Top Model's foreign locale. Pretty cool although Tyra's bunny suit appearance was the lamest travel announcement yet. It was oddly lacking in build up and climax, aside from Natasha's strangely endearing delayed reaction. At least Tyra didn't try to convince everyone that Sydney is a fashion capitol. The Aussies always seem to be more about fashion insanity than fashion sense.

Renee: Did Jael spread some light on Renee or something? I think she looked absolutely gorgeous in her commercial and while her delivery was a bit aggressive and boyish, her accent wasn't bad and she really did have good energy. I don't know...I'm sensing Renee could be sticking around down under.

Until next week, you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model!

Hey--no scenes for next week's episode! That usually indicates the rather dull recap episode. Grrr.

A Sad State of Affairs

I told you she had everything they were looking for in a PCD.

I'm feeling kinda lackluster today. Actually, I'm feeling downright sullen. While my left hand seems to be on the mend (hence my typing this despite my self-imposed spot on the DL), my knees are still an oozing, painful mess of nonbendingess, and watching the stupid PCDs learn some of the worst choreography I've ever seen didn't help matters much. I'm sure the sugar I had in the form of the ice cream I had for dinner hasn't helped either, but you know how it goes. If you can't go to the gym, you might as well eat. Why I can't ever do it the sensible way is beyond me: if exercising less, eat less. It's like my brain only operates on some inverse proportion. I eat less when I'm working out regularly and the minute there's no activity in the foreseeable future, I go right for the Ben & Jerry's. I might feel better if Anastacia was still on the show, binging on hotel room service desserts. Misery does love company.

Alas, Anastacia is nowhere to be found and in my please-pass-the-Zoloft state, I just can't get it up for comically commenting on the PCDs today. I just don't think I have it in me.

I did, however, have it in me to jot down a few notes:

- Chelsea has perfected a really bitchin' nostril flare. Remember when she was a really good mad inhaler? Now she's a really good incensed nostril flarer (like when she can't get choreography and Mikey berates her).

- You had to know that the only national air time that ridiculous Secret Scent Expressions commercial of Asia's was going to get was sandwiched between two Search for the Next Doll segments on the CW. And how cheap was that thing? It wasn't even film. It was slapped together in video amidst a montage of Asia's footage from the show. Sad state, fo' sho'.

- Robin has got to be lying through her ass every time she tells the girls how great they are, right? I mean tonight, after a two minute dance, which I repeat, consisted of some of the worst choreography I've ever seen, she was all like "You could all be PCDs right now!" Are you kidding me? Maybe I haven't laid eyes on the real PCDs enough to form a solid opinion of their dancing abilities, but the little I've caught in videos doesn't make it look like they're ready for Asia, Mel R., Mel S., or Chelsea. Or should I say, I don't think those four girls are ready for the real PCDs. But what do I know? I can't stop looking at my knees. Maybe I missed something. Or maybe since they only danced for like two minutes and all they had to do was pop and circle their hips, I missed the subtle nuances of the number.

- Did anyone else notice that during Chelsea's copycat performance of Xtina's What a Girl Wants, Ron Fair's face looked like he was attempting a Vulcan Mind Meld? Perhaps he was trying to will Chelsea to sing a song without imitating Christina's every vocal move. But kudos to Chelsea cuz copying Ms. Aguilera's voice isn't all that easy. So if that's all you can accomplish in your singing life, things could be worse. Plus. I gotta admit that Chelsea looked A-dorable in that pony tail. Hair back and bangs long is a good look for her. Stu thought she was Shannon Doherty. Worked for Shannon too. Damn those girls with straight hair and bangs! Oh jeez, maybe I do need an anti-depressant. I never wish for straight hair. Well, almost never. Only on rare occasions when someone looks really good in bangs and a long straight pony tail and I know this is a look I will never be able to achieve.

- My career advice for Mel. S is to go be a Jennifer Aniston look alike somewhere. Does anyone else see it?

- If the Search for the Next Doll had a suggestion box, I would suggest that Asia never tie her pink boa around her waist again. It seems like an insult to the significance Robin has imposed upon the boa. And it just looks really, really stupid.

- OMG, the finale is NEXT WEEK. Thank fucking god. We all know Mel. R is going win this thing, dubious honor though that may be.

Until next week, loosen your buttons and fling your boas around, but please, I beg of you, don't ever tie them around your waists.

And as for my sad and sorry state, I should perk up tomorrow since the Top Models are traveling! That always puts a spring in my step. But why, oh why, did they give away the location in tonight's promos? The whole fun of the traveling episode is to wait to find out where they're going. No worries, mate. Maybe they'll got sponsorship from Outback Steakhouse.

On the DL

Oh, that in this particular case, "On the DL" referred to the "down-low," signifying that I had something delightfully juicy to share. Sadly, in this particular case, it refers to the Disabled List (despite my protests, I do actually know a fair amount of sports terminology), on which I am currently placing myself.

Why, you may ask, am I on the disabled list, giving my now injured left hand a break from as much typing as possible? Perhaps it is because yesterday, I FUCKING FELL OFF A TREADMILL.

How, you may ask, did such a thing occur? Well, I shall tell you.

It was only a couple of weeks ago that someone from my gym class said, "Gigi, you've got some very long shoelaces," to which I replied, "Oh, I know. I double knot them though, so it's okay." I should confess now, that I'm a tad OCDish and one of the ways in which it manifests itself is that my sneakers never feel like they're tied tightly enough. As a result, I have a tendency to, over time, stretch my shoelaces to thin spaghetti-like lengths. The bows flop around on either side of my shoe like those crazy rabbits' long ears flouncing about on the sides of their heads. But it's been that way for years and never, never has double knotting my laces not been enough to keep the truly mortifying and horribly painful from occurring.

Until yesterday.

There I was, happily going about the first few moments of my Sunday work out, which includes a treadmill run. I was just warming up and mouthing the words to, um, Britney's Oops I Did it Again, when, I felt something happen to my feet. At the time I had no idea what started it all, but what happened next felt like hours of my body losing all control. In sequential order, I believe it went something like this:
- I take hold of my iPod because my Britney selection was about to end and I want to change artistes. I look down at my iPod and begin circling through the menu options.
- I trip
- I try to regain footing, but can't because, I'm on a treadmill. And it's moving.
- I think to myself that I might be able to get my feet off the damn belt and on to the sides of said treadmill, but I can't because I'm on a treadmill. And it's still moving (and it just occurred to me right now that I was holding my iPod and couldn't grab hold of the bars--not that I couldn't have dropped my iPod for my own safety, but who thinks of such things in the span of four seconds?)
- My feet completely disengage from the treadmill and I am air born until my knees and then stomach and chest slam down on the belt. And we all know what's coming next.
- Oh yes, like a backwards Superman flying through an episode of Beavis and Butthead, I am flung off the hideous machine and land on the cement floor, stomach and knees skidding towards the wall behind me, bouncing a few times before I stop moving. Ouch. (And I will point out at this time how lucky I was not to be one treadmill over to the right which would have flung me into a rather sturdy collection of stationary bicycles.)
- The adrenalin and shock kicks in and I gather my iPod to me, swing my legs around and sit up, which is when I notice about twelve eyes, wide as wide can be, looking at me in horror and amazement. Wanting to come off as supremely cool, I immediately shout out, "I'M OKAY! I'M OKAY!" This is when I notice my insanely long shoelace and deduce that it is indeed the culprit. I point this out to everyone because, of course, I have to be sure they know that I would never trip and fall without just cause, having nothing to do with any lack of grace, poise, and athletic ability!
-And then, to keep up the cool factor, I ask, "Was that wacky or what?!" Everyone nods, expresses great concern and one guy shouts out, "Man, I saw it happening but there was nothing I could do!" I agree with him and thank everyone for their concern. After which I proclaim, "I guess I'll do the elliptical trainer today."
- And I'm not kidding. I walk myself, rather uncomfortably and pathetically, to the ladies room, blot the four welts I have on my knees (two matching welts per knee) and get right back to exercising. People walk by me and declare, "Good for you for getting right in there!" and "I woulda gone home! More power to ya!" Yes, crazy, manic, and now clearly in shock me spends a wicked 35 minutes on the elliptical, pushing myself harder on that stupid thing than I perhaps ever have. I cringe now and then, but damn it, I was getting my work out in as Madonna was demanding, "Don't tell me to stop!" Damn straight don't tell me to stop! Don't tell me I can't keep working out after getting thrown off a treadmill!
- I even go do weights afterwards which is when it all starts to unravel. It's a bit blurry after that, but I remember losing much momentum, skipping body parts here and there, and when I notice I can no longer bend my knees and that some yellow substance is oozing out of them, I decide to call it quits.

Today, my knees are still oozing, I still can't bend them, I have many aches and pains and bruises, mostly on the left side of my body which clearly took the brunt of the crash landing, and my left hand hurts when I grab, squeeze, pull, or push anything. So at this point, I feel like every part of me needs a good rest for the next few days.

So, I am officially on the DL until further notice.

Thank god, Run's House is on tonight. I could use some comfort and wisdom!

"Those who fail to learn the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them."

Couldn't decide which pic to post...




Oh sweet Jesus, after last night's Pussycat Doll slow burning tedium, tonight's episode of America's Next Top Model was like a high-speed car chase. VROOOOMMMM.

I was just thinking, did you ever notice how whenever the PCDs are in their house, they just lounge around on their beds or eat? Oh sure, sometimes they rehearse late into the night and sometimes Asia decides to relive her boxing dreams in a smack down with one of the girls, but for the most part, they don't do a whole hell of a lot at home. I guess if you think about it, the Top Models don't either but there just seems to be more lively interaction (or maybe just better editing). Even when they're not at a challenge or photo shoot, there's something to watch and witness. Okay, witness may be a bit of a strong statement cuz it's not really necessary to behold a bunch of model wannabes bitch about each other, their modeling woes, or their extraordinarily difficult days, which the weight of the word "witness" would imply.

So what did we behold this evening that was so riveting compared to the tiresome Search for the Next Doll? Well, we knew that acting challenge was due any minute.

And here's where our history lesson begins. Listen and learn future Top Models, for it pains me to see this go unacknowledged cycle after cycle. Ye must be warned: whichever girl perks up when she learns that it's time for the acting challenge not only never wins said challenge, much to her great surprise, but she usually goes home that week too. So Whitelle, the minute you proclaimed acting to be your forte, you were a goner.

And poor Whitelle was the double whammy history lesson. Sad but true, the plus size girl has never won. It's likely that his Top Model history will always repeat itself.

Also, historically, the girl who starts out kicking major ass slowly sinks to the shadowy depths of defeat. We know it, the judges know it, and Jaslene has clearly watched enough Top Model to know it too. Out by the pool she claimed she didn't want to be the girl who starts out strong and then fades. Don't fade, my skinny Jaslene!! Let's stop history in its tracks!

Having nothing to do with history, but perhaps related in that it has to do with a kind of history via legacy via DNA (I'm stretching to tie it all together. Work with me.), I have to pause before deliberations and comment on this kid business. How many freakin' girls have babies in this cycle? Between Top Model and the PCD moms, I can't keep count. And I'm just not down with making the decision to leave your kid to pursue modeling or whatever it is the PCDs do. Not only cuz I think that those aren't the best careers upon which to embark when trying to raise a bambino, but because now I gotta listen to you piss and moan about missing your kid for thirteen weeks or however long you last on these shows. I know, I'm not a mom, so I don't understand, but the thing is, I do understand. I have siblings and friends with kids and they miss their children within hours of being apart which I find delightfully wonderful. But if you know you're going to miss your kid in a day, don't try to leave the tyke for like thirteen weeks. That's all I'm sayin'.

However, I must confess that I got choked up when Renee and Dionne's little ones showed up. Okay, okay, okay, I admit it! It was touching! They all looked so happy, I had to cry. A little. I stopped crying though as soon as Dionne asked what the fuck was wrong with her baby's hair. Oh,that was good stuff. She was pissed that her daughter's hair looked like crap because Dionne's older sister, who is helping take care of the girl, only has boys and despite Dionne's sister being a girl herself, seemingly with her own head of girlish hair, she has no clue how to style a female coif. Dionne was still glad to see her family though, which was good to know.

But right back to history which repeated itself even further when Top Model alums showed up for the shoot. Double the deliberation fun!!

Brittany and the Twins: I loved the twins all last cycle. They were a bit stiff, but I think they totally have the high fashion look. Not the Cover Girl look, but the actual model look. However, in their photo with Brit they either didn't give a crap and didn't even try, or Brit was just that good. Good for Brit either way since the judges just saw that she out shined Michelle and Amanda.

Dionne and Kim: Before I get to the shoot, I have to quote my fave non-photo shoot line of Dionne's, which is even better than the thing about the kid's hair. Re: her acting, "I have no idea why that Jamaican accent came out. I do not speak Jamaican AT ALL." Sigh. I heart Dionne. I also heart Kim. I was completely devastated when she was eliminated from her cycle. So, there's Dionne and Kim about to start posing in the limo and right before that, Dionne says, "I'm not a fucking lesbo." She got major demerits for that and I thought I was going to have to stop hearting her, but then mid shoot, she turns it around! When asked why she was giggling, she responds, "I'm actually enjoying this!" I'm happily taking Dionne's demerits off her record.

Jael and Rebecca: Rebecca always reminded me of Reese Witherspoon whom I think is super fab so I liked Rebecca. She's a bit plain for modeling, but quite lovely. I'm still awed by that dead drop to the floor though. As for Jael, I'm not even gonna talk about her ridiculous shoot or her belief that the judges don't get her because she's "very complicated" (Um, I don't think so, Jael. In fact, you couldn't be more uncomplicated and obvious.). What I am going to do is jump up and down for joy for as many minutes as possible because the judges FINALLY acknowledged that Jael has the most irritating speaking voice on the planet. I'll defer to Twiggy who said, "When Jael opens her mouth it makes me crazy!" Amen, sister!

Jaslene and Bre: I've often said that Bre is a crazy person. I hope she's settled down since her cycle cuz if not, she's still a crazy person. However, she did say some of the funniest things I've ever heard on Top Model, like wanting to know who gave birth to the Wild Boyz because they were clearly ill parented, so her lack of sanity might be worth something. However, I'll never get over the horrible things she said to my Kim! And as for Jaslene, she knows what's what. She's gonna step it back up. I know it. I have faith!

Natasha and Michelle: Oh, who doesn't love a wrestler from Terre Haute, IN, who comes down with impetigo, sometimes mistaken for a flesh eating virus? She's weirdly pretty and yet not. Natasha, however is looking prettier and prettier every shoot and I gotta give her props for pulling it together after her baby didn't show up. Girl, you DIDN'T WIN THE PRIZE. She didn't seem to quite get it and just thought it was unfair that her family didn't magically appear. Yes, it's sad that she misses them so much, but she DIDN'T WIN THE PRIZE.

Renee and Joanie: Now any of you who were with me during Joanie's cycle know how I feel about her. Lovelovelove her! I think Danielle is gorgeous and fabulous, but Joanie was ROBBED. As for Renee, her pic was okay, ugly or pretty, but what I really want to note is that she looks great in a head scarf. I don't know if she's taking cues from Tyra, who has worn a head scarf in every single panel so far, or what, but it works. I don't know if it works so much for Tyra. And what else was she wearing this week? Who let her out of the house in a flouncie mini dress, full head wrap, and strappy sandals? The Go Fug Yourself girls might need to be notified.

Whitney and Shannon: Shannon's really matured quite nicely, don't you think? I mean she's kinda got that *not twenty anymore* look about her and it's working. Didn't help Whitney any though. And while Whitney didn't win the acting challenge, she clearly didn't bomb it either and I think she may be the first girl in Top Model history to decide, in her exit interview, that maybe she shouldn't pursue modeling and that she might be better suited to something else (perhaps acting). Let's hope that history repeats itself. That would save a lot of girls a lot of future heartache.

Until next week--when we travel!!--you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model!!

Wreckage and Carnage Was Never This Dull

I gotta tell ya, there was more excitement and better executed choreography in the ten minutes of The Day After Tomorrow that I watched on FX while eating dinner, than there was in this hour of The Search for the Next Doll. Sure, I'm a sucker for a disaster flick, but you know I'm an even bigger sucker for "the dance," so why on earth does this show bore the holy hell outta me?

Perhaps because it's BORING. Even during the performances, when the girls are allegedly giving it their PCD all, they still look like detritus floating about the stage like drowning luggage on the Titanic. And--I'm digressing because at this point I have so little to say about tonight's episode and so much to say about a supposedly unsinkable cruise liner--I should mention that I'm also a Titanic FREAK. And I don't just mean the movie, which I love because there is some fabulous wreckage and carnage to behold in those three hours, but I mean the actual ship and the historic event. One time, my awesome friend K. took me to the Titanic exhibit where I got to TOUCH A PIECE OF THE BOAT. The ACTUAL SHIP. The ACTUAL TITANIC. I almost passed out. Screw dancing on stage with the Pussycat Dolls, I freakin' touched a piece of the TITANIC! With my hand. My finger actually touched a piece of the boat. The boat that's been at the bottom of the ocean since 1912. That might have been one of the best birthday presents EVER.

So speaking of sinking ships...how about that Anastacia?! Within the first five minutes of tonight's show, I wrote down: "Anastacia knew that either she our Mariela would make it to the finals? And she's making a big fuss about losing weight but not starving herself, then saying sometimes she just wants to put on a regular t-shirt and no make up? Hmmm...Might Anastacia be going home tonight?" Hey, what'd'ya know? Off she went. Ho hum.

Meanwhile there was tons of Melissa R. footage which there usually isn't. Suddenly we're getting to know her emotional and moral side which can only mean that she's sticking around for a while. I called that one in my first PCD post. Next.

Chelsea, the only one who can sing worth a damn but can't dance to save her life, was relegated to a swing and a couch while the other girls draped themselves over a bar. I'll give the girl credit for working her lack of choreography. But yeah yeah yeah, every week she gets dinged for weak dancing. Talk to the hand.

Asia continues to bug and her damn fingers never stop tapping the damn mic. 'Nuff said.

Melissa S. despite her mantra of "no bottom two, no bottom two," ended up--where else--in the bottom two! Quelle surprise.

Here's what did surprise me--that Robin commended them for kicking it old school. They did no such thing. They're too young to know what Big Spender should look like and I don't think they got the burlesque style at all. Whatev.

The best part of the whole thing was Mikey yelling at Melissa R., "Are you wearing your boob pads?! How many times do I have to tell you to wear your boob pads?!" Clearly, not nearly enough, cuz either we'd be far more entertained or Melissa R. would look like she had some cleavage.

OMG, I am so bored by this show that repeatedly bashing my head against our glass coffee table until skin breaks and blood oozes across the clear surface would be far more engaging and enjoyable.

But yeah, I'm still gonna watch cuz by now, I gotta see who wins this stupid thing. I'm just gonna pray that the Pussycats NEVER need to search for another doll. And I'm gonna hope that next week The Poseidon Adventure or The Towering Inferno is on at the same time. Excitement needs to come from somewhere and it sure as hell isn't coming from the Pussycat Doll Lounge.

Until next week, loosen up those buttons and fling those pink boas. Jeez, I'm so bored, I can't even muster up the energy to end that sentence with my usual "baby" and an exclamation point. Good grief.

What Was I Thinking?!

You might have noticed that I'm not a morning person. Most of my posts go up late at night, far too late, actually, and perhaps the lack of sleep is beginning to take its toll.

This morning, I woke up in a panic. Yes, I was shocked that my alarm was demanding that I wake up because it seemed like such a short time had passed since I had set the damn thing and crawled into bed after last night's post, but more than that, I was panicked by my sudden memory that FOX's Drive, starring one Nathan Fillion, was to premiere at any moment. Fearful that it might be tonight or tomorrow and conflict with The Search for the Next Doll (which would probably be a blessing) or Top Model, I bolted out of bed to check the schedule. With great relief I saw that Drive is premiering on Sunday, which is perfect. A free TV night. Sure I'll be up too late writing, but what else is new?

But, what really worried me and clearly illustrated that I've lost my mind due to sleep deprivation, is that my morning Drive panic reminded me that when I mentioned my "list" a few posts ago, I forgot to put Nathan Fillion on it! I have no idea how this happened so I am here to correct the situation and make amends.

At this point, until another Bourne movie comes out, I'm going to have to bump Matt Damon. I do heart him so, but with Leo's new found manliness and vulnerability in The Departed, well, I just can't bear to part with him. So move over Matt, wonderfully understated actor that you are, Nathan's back!

I feel much better now.

Dancing Pancakes and Duck Soup

Aside from Justine's request to hit Hooters for wings in her ninth month of pregnancy, to which Rev Run replied, "I think, thou shalt not go to Hooters as a priest," the only other comical moment in tonight's premiere of Run's House was Jojo's recounting of Run's having once dreamed about dancing pancakes in cowboy boots.

"Did you want pancakes or something?" Angela shouted out, laughing. It was hard not to laugh along with her even though I had been sobbing moments earlier.

By now, any of us who follow Joseph, Justine, Vanessa, Jojo, Angela, Diggy, and Russy Simmons know about the sad passing of their baby, Victoria Anne Simmons, who died on the day of her birth in September. Most of us probably saw clips of tonight's episode on Oprah last week. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I cried my eyes out watching then and gave a repeat performance this evening. With an encore.

But Rev Run doesn't want our pity. He respects and appreciates our sympathies and condolences, but would prefer to move on, to be grateful for everything he has, to live the happy life he has cultivated with his family. He would like Russy to continue to roll around on his Heelys and Diggy to keep skating.

About thirty minutes prior to tonight's premiere, I had just watched a TIVOed episode of last season's finale. Sap and sucker that I am, I cried as Rev decided to let his girls go and expressed his great excitement over the new life that would be joining the family nine months later. I'd been looking forward to seeing new episodes of Run's House for weeks, but I was worried that I wasn't going to make it through a season of Justine's pregnancy and anticipation for the baby's arrival, knowing what was to come.

But learning from Rev's example (and his Oprah interview, of course!), I already knew he didn't want to linger in grief. As he told Russy, "Don't let other people take us out of our joyful life." So if that was Rev's request, I was going to do my best to enjoy Run's House as much as ever so that I wasn't one of those other people. If the Rev had the faith and strength with which to find utter joy in the face of abject sorrow, then the least I could do was watch his show without wallowing in my own neurotic anxieties.

The other day, Stu and I were listening to Al Green. When Jesus is Waiting came on, I shouted out, "Ooh! My favorite!" It really is my favorite Al Green song. Swear.

Stu asked, "What is it with you and African American preachers?"

I do seem to have a bit of a thing.

I don't know what it is. I think it's that when you spend the majority of your days and nights like a female version of Woody Allen's character in Hannah and Her Sisters, constantly battling an existential crisis over the impossibility of figuring out the meaning of life and being nauseated by the being and nothingness of it all, it's hard not to be attracted to the likes of Al and Rev who live with so much joy. Their faith seems to be the link, so maybe I'm drawn to them because I feel like they'll give me the one thing I'm missing (just like Woody Allen attempting to convert to Christianity!). Hey, for all I know, maybe Jesus is waiting (but don't tell my mom cuz she might still be worried about that Jews for Jesus thing). Probably not for me, what with the Jewish thing and all, but still, the faith in something, anything, seems nice. It seems exuberant. It seems just like what Woody Allen's character found in a movie theater watching the Marx Brothers. And I could definitely have faith in that.

Duck Soup or dancing pancakes, anyone? Or maybe just Hooters. For the wings.