TV Wrap Up (Alt Title: Screw You Too, America)

For those of you playing along at home in the game entitled "Jason Watches American Idol," the current results are: 2 weeks passed, 3 of Jason's top 4 contestants already eliminated. Including my very favorite, Alexandrea, last night in the most egregious wrong ever committed on American soil.

If Brooke gets sent home, I will entirely refuse to watch the show again this season.

Also, I can see and hear empirically that that small Mormon boy, David A., is a very good singer. And he's inappropriately humble and cute about it. But sweet damn, why do I want to punch him in the face so much? The only thing stopping me is the fact that he completely lost his shit when Alexandrea was eliminated. Like, falling-over-sobbing-into-the-warm-embrace-of-Crazy-Hot-Luke-Menard-during-her-singout levels of shit losing. That was nice of him. But seriously, that's the only thing keeping him off my Most Hated List.

OH, AND - David Cook? You are officially dead to me, after that interview this week, wherein you used the phrases "word nerd," "enamored with word meanings," and "vocab" unironically. Do you remember that scene from The History Boys where they're giving that eulogy about "[someone's] love for words, and language"? Of course you don't, because I am the only person in the world who cares about that movie/play. But still, this was exactly like that, only one million times worse. I'm talking Taylor Hicks levels of revulsion.

Dead to me.

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I stopped watching Lost twelve episodes into the second season, when I realized that it was doing nothing but pissing me off every Wednesday night. Questions upon mysteries, upon riddles, upon Matthew Fox's smug face, I'd had enough.

Then I found myself in front of the TV the night that this season started, and they had a one hour "catch up on the last 3 seasons" Cliff's Notes episode before it started. I figured, what the hell, and tried it out. While the recap was basically telling a story that had absolutely nothing to do with the first 2 seasons that I had watched, it was sort of interesting in its own right and I went ahead and watched the season premiere. And I've been rehooked ever since.

I have almost nothing to say about this whatsoever, except that I loved the episode last night more than any other hour of TV that I've seen this year. I make no excuses for the fact that I love the pure sap that was The Time Traveler's Wife, and this was like a fanfiction episode of what would happen if Lost and TTTW did a crossover episode. Sort of sappy, sort of confusing, sort of science fiction. My kind of TV. Good play, Lost.

Oscar Silence

This year marked the first time in ages that I didn't have some manner of thing going on in relation to the Oscars. For a while there I had a weird streak of dying my hair a different color at the same time as the show (that's finally over, thank goodness), and lately there's always been some manner of party, or at least people over to crack wise and mock all the fashions.

But due to a magical thing called Forgetting That the Oscars Were This Weekend, I had the whole day to myself. And you know what? It was pretty sweet. Because I found that if you watch the entire show with the sound muted while reading a book, it's a really pleasant experience. You miss none of the winners and still get to see all the fashion and the reactions, plus you don't have to listen to the horrible presenter banter or the host's stale jokes (sorry Jon Stewart, but seriously). And the most painful part of the whole night for me, the acceptance speeches, suddenly become wonderfully fascinating, in the sort of way a deranged mime might be fun to watch for a while.

I'm totally sticking with this kind of Oscars forever now, because it didn't even seem that long, since I had a good book to occupy my time.

Some general notes on the night:

• There weren't any horrible dresses this year, which was ever so sad. Not even Marion Cotillard's fish dress was able to get more than a derisive scoff from me. Poor form, crazy dressmakers of the world.
• Best Moment of the Night: Tilda Swinton winning Best Supporting Actress. Meaning that, for the first time in forever, the person who I thought gave the best performance of anyone all year actually won in the their category. Seriously, I loved her performance more than anything and didn't expect her to win in the slightest.
• 2nd Best Moment of the Night: Once winning for Best Song, and the resulting two acceptance speeches. I actually turned the sound on for both of them. I couldn't be happier. And how cute were they?!
• Worst Moment of the Night: Marion Cotillard? Really? I didn't know it until they actually read the winner, but oh man I really, really wanted Ellen Page to win that award. At least she looked super cute. Although did Michael Cera just not attend? I never saw him once.
• Worst Ongoing Trend of the Night: Absolutely no love for Atonement (except for score, which: obviously) all the way through. It was expected but still ultra annoying. Totally the best movie, totally shafted. Ah well.

And that's that. Man, I feel really refreshed, and completely out of opinions. Plus I got through 260 pages in my book at the same time. It's a good day.

A Product Placed Cola Shame

(NOTE: After I wrote this ridiculously long thing up, I decided that it was too dorky even for me to put up. Then I realized that I have no shame and really need blog filler. So it's going up about a week late. I'm sorry. Not for the lateness. For the content. So sorry.)

You guys, I was so sure I had gotten over it. After my brief flirtation with joining the seething masses of teenage girls and Frnak, I had made it an entire year without succumbing to the American Idol machine. Sure I would still watch, but it was only because I had a fake TV crush on that one guy from last year. I never even came close to picking up a telephone, and I would estimate that I only watched about every other episode. Even my crush wasn't that strong - I mean the boy made sound effects for a living. It would never have worked between us.

I assumed it was all just a fad, a scary Coca-Cola induced fad, and I had grown past the creepy devotion and Pavlovian phone dialing.

And then this season happened. With the whole writers' strike and the absence of any other new shows on TV, guarantying that I wouldn't have anything else to take up my time, I've been dragged straight down into the swirling vortex. As usual, the audition episodes were literally unwatchable (I think the longest I made it through was 8 consecutive minutes before something horrifying made me wince so hard that I changed the channel without touching the remote. All I needed was my brain waves and the immense shame powering them) but oh my, how addictive the Hollywood pare-down audtions are. It's like a fantastic car crash that you can't look away from, because more and more cars just keep barreling into the flaming wreckage, completely ignoring the fact that there is a huge pileup already there.

And now those are over, and today is officially the best day: The first day the initial bio pages are released for the top 24 contestants. I don't know why I love them so much, but they really, really speak to me. Particularly the part of me that likes to mock people. Because seriously, if you've never read them before, you have no idea what's in store.

Come along, as I recap the most intriguing parts of the different bios. Even with the reduced information this year (usually they're chock full of snark, this year they've learned their lesson and pared down the scary), there's still a trove of hidden gems. I also will make my entirely superficial judgments about them all, since as per usual we haven't seen more than 10 of the 24 sing at all. It's like they want to make this a popularity contest or something. The nerve.

Anyways, Lord help me, they're all below the cut, so as to hide most of my shame.



(Note: While I am a horrible person, I'll try to be a least a little bit sensitive to the fact that some of these contestants are approximately 9 years old, and cannot necessarily be faulted for what they say. Just thinking about a scenario in which I would be interviewed for a national TV program when I was 16 causes me physical pain.)

Alaina Whitaker - The fact that her bio and personal interview is so perfectly normal makes me hate her on principle. Plus, what's the deal with that last line about being "pretty good at shopping."? Is she making a joke? You would think so, but this is American Idol. One should never assume. Tentatively, though, she is not horrible. Sigh. What a way to start.

Alexandrea Lushington - Two for two with the inoffensive pages. Actually, I secretly like her most of all the girls, so I'm thrilled that she didn't have a terrifying bio. Also, she has the best quote of all the contestants.

Amanda Overmyer - Independent of the fact that she looks like a cross between Booberella from The Simpsons and an American Girl doll, she can actually sort of sing. That doesn't sway me though, when you factor in the Harley riding too. There's only so much (note the quotes) "rock-n-roll" I can take, and she's way over the line.

Amy Jean Davis - I think the correct word is ukelele, Amy Jean. Oh. Right, "a little guitar." I see what you were trying to say. Yeah, misplaced modifiers are no one's friend. An enemy of grammar is an enemy of mine.

Asia'h Epperson - Yeah, we can see your picture right there, Unnecessary Apostrophe Girl. You aren't allowed to claim make-up as a talent, unless we're talking clown make-up.

Brooke White - Y'all, I loved her before I read this bio. Now? "Beautifying"? The stupidest quote of the 24 (which is saying so much)? I'm just gonna pretend this whole page doesn't really exist. I love me a dramatic cryer on this show.

Carly Smithson - Oh, you're a crafty one. With your whole "Irish" thing, and your "perfect pint." It's not gonna work on me. I will remain strong. Probably for at least 2 weeks. And then you'll sing an awesome angry indie chick song that I love and I'll fall into your robotic spell. Damn you in advance, Irish temptress.

Chikezie Eze - Other talents: None. Niiiiice. Awesome name, though.

Colton David Berry - Sweet monkey damn, someone save me from all the jailbait this season. I'll refrain from comment, other than to say he was in a mortal lock with Brooke for the worst quote ever attempted, and just barely lost out. Oh, and "since I was young"? He's lucky he isn't within my slapping distance. Embryos aren't allowed to reminisce about when they were young.

Danny Norriega - A relevant conversation:

Him: "He's the gay one."
Her: "ONE?"

David Archuleta - Again with the tiny instruments. Sigh. This one, I think, is the force to be reckoned with. Although I also thought the same thing about Will Makar, and we all know how that turned out. *sniff*

David Cook - Quotes Road House and manages to ogle Mandy Moore through text. Then he gets the best joke line of all the contestants with his Other Talents. Means I think he's awesome and will thus be gone by end of February.

David Hernandez - I really think this guy might actually be a robot in human disguise, and he's taken on the tiniest accent to hide his not-complete mastery of speech. Also, his roving eyebrows are the scariest facial feature of any of the contestants, including the white shock of hair on the one girl, and the plethora of other piercings on everyone else.

Garrett Haley - Looks a little crazy/alien, and his eyes seem to be strangely oriented on his face. Also, I wouldn't put it past him for that thing on head to actually be a wig. Plus - way to narrow down the timeline of when you started singing to 3 full years. Wildly informative. (I'm being overly mean, I actually like this one.)

Jason Castro - White-boy dreads. I utterly refuse.

Jason Yeager - Seems completely un-hateable, except for the fact that he seems to be suffering from the same hair coloring disease that's affecting the Overmyer girl. Also, old man is old. I hope he does well.

Joanne Borgella - Girl, I love DAUGHTRY too. Sometimes we can't help it. But we will have issues if you keep bringing up the plus-sized girl thing all season long. I get my zaftig discussion fix from ANTM, I am here to see cute gay boys dance around on stage.

Kady Alexis Malloy - The fact that you qualified Freddy Mercury "of Queen" makes me hate you for no understandable reason. I'm sorry dear, sometimes these things happen.

Kristy Lee Cook - Even though I don't like her, she totally wins the award for best bio page. There is so much nuance she's packed in to such a tiny space. Qualifying that she only likes Young LeAnn Rimes (totally implied: not the older, whorish Coyote Ugly LeAnn Rimes), the word cowgirl as a verb, a subtle dropping of her "pro" singing career at 13, and a casual mention of cage fighting in Talents. This girl has it all. Watch the fuck out for this one.

Luke Menard - If by "29" you mean "36," yeah okay. But whatever, we don't discriminate against The Hotness here at Belligerent and Numerous. You come right in.

Michael Johns - Even older than the 36 year old we just went through, but is totally going to crush the one, since he's got A) the accent and B) all the face-time during the auditions. I'm just gonna go ahead and say it, though. Not that hot.

What? You heard me.

Ramiele Macrowon Malubay - Best name, worrying quote. Means she's totally been taking notes from Sanjaya. Bonus points for being the first person to correctly modify her limited talents at musical instruments without butchering the English language too much. Minus points for having 40 favorite artists. This girl is just all over the map.

Robbie Carrico - I can't get past the hair to formulate any other thoughts. My only emotion towards him is the overwhelming urge to drench him with a fire hose.

Syesha Mercado - See, this one did not count hair or make-up as one of her strong points, so I just think she got on the bad side of the photographer's assistant. Anyways, nothing else to say, she's another one of my favorites.

My Top Three Boys Before Hearing Anyone Sing: Colton (with the Gay Hair), David Cook (with the Ugly Face but Good Bio), and Garrett (the Alien Looking One).

My Top Three Girls Before Hearing Anyone Sing: Alexandrea (with the Military Garb), Brooke (who's Bio Doesn't Exist in my Mind), and Syesha (with the Hair and Makeup from a Forgotten Age of Clowns).

A Minor Retraction

So maybe I was a little hasty with my last bout of ranting and raving.

Because apparently if you aren't home after the first delivery, you can arrange with UPS to go to their shipping center and pick up a package that same day, provided you don't mind the drive. Which, at this point in my epic OCD-level quest for video games, I'm totally fine with.

So I arrange with the UPS guy to pick up my package at their processing center, which is on practically the diametrical opposite end of Dallas from my house. Indeed, it's almost out near the airport like I suspected. But per his instructions, all I need to do is get there before 8:30pm. Since I've been hit with the American Idol sickness (see my upcoming post of epic, epic shame) I decide to head out there right after work, so I can be back by 7:00pm. I make the heroic trek down there, only to be told that no, I cannot have my package.

Because apparently the guy I spoke to was a bit confused on the specifics of this pick-up thing. Same day pick-up only occurs in the very precise half hour window of 8:00-8:30pm on the day that you schedule the pick-up. Seriously. You have an exact 30 minute span of time in which you must arrive, submit your order and get it processed, otherwise you have to rearrange a time and try another day.

So I drive back home and remake the exact same trek an hour and a half later. The lengths to which I will go to get this box are ridiculous, especially since there's really not that much I want to play right now. At this point it's just a matter of pride and determination. I will get this thing today, dammit.

When I arrive back at UPS (at 8:03), I am informed that they still cannot find my package, but I should wait around until all the truck drivers come back, in case they still have it on their truck. I wait another 28 minutes until I'm the only customer left in the place. The woman who cannot find my package looks over at me and realizes that, based on the fanatic gleam in my eye, she's not going to get to go home tonight until she finds my package. She takes off down to the warehouse herself to check on the last of the trucks coming in.

Meanwhile a random worker wanders out from the back and sees me, obviously surprised that anyone is left around. She asks me for my last name. I give it to her and start to explain that the other worker has gone out looking for my wayward package. The girl cocks her head to the side and looks at me with a puzzled expression. Barely even looking over, she reaches out to her immediate left and grabs the only large box left at the counter.

"Yeah, this is your package right here. I don't know what she was looking at."

Rather than pull my hair out and run from the office screaming, I hand over my driver's license and sign for the box. An hour or 14 later, I'm back at home and finally get to unpack my delicious Wii.

It's pretty cool, although the awesomeness was slightly diminished when Frnak proceeded to smoke me at both Tennis and Bowling in rapid sucession. I mean he destroyed me. It was so sad, y'all. My little guy can't bowl to save his life.

But whatever. Wii!

Wii Would Like to Play, Dammit

Sweet monkey damn, I am so fed up with people.

So I finally found a Wii last Tuesday morning, after months of searching - scouring web pages, haunting Target, and generally making an ass out of myself at Gamestop. I really wanted one, for no good reason, except that I really want to be able to play the new Smash Bros. game that comes out next month. It's not exactly a huge deal, and it seems like a whole lot of money just to play one game, but somehow it turned into this epic quest for me, finding this damn game system.

Whatever, it may be weird and dorky, but it gave me something else to devote my time to now that I'm back off the World of Warcraft.

And they aren't kidding when they say that they're hard to find. It's just insane. I was finally ready to give up when I determined that I would have to start getting up 45 minutes early each morning to go on speculative shopping expeditions. That would usually fail.

But then I lucked out and tracked this one down last week on the internets, although it has to come in from Marble Falls.

Which means it's gotta be mailed to me.

Which is fine.

Oh, it won't get shipped until Friday?

Well, I guess that's fine, I've already paid, but guess I can miss one more weekend without it.

It'll arrive on Monday and Frnak will be home to sign for it.

It doesn't come on Monday.

Oh well, it was probably just a President's Day thing, it's coming USPS so I can just pick it up from the post office when it arrives tomorrow.

Oh, it didn't get mailed out until Monday?

That's lame.

But to make up for it, now it's on overnight delivery UPS?

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Because now it'll HAVE to be signed for, and Frnak's at work all week and so am I. Meaning that I'll have to wait until they've done their three attempts (Tues, Wed, & Thurs), and then go pick the damn thing up out at the package center, which is somewhere out in the middle of nowhere by the airport, and it's only open during normal business hours. So I'll get the system something like two weeks after I paid for it, after I drive all over Dallas, the whole reason that I went with the online route in the first place. Sweet.

Why do people have to suck so much? I just want to play a Mario game by swinging my hands around like a fool battling an insect, possible smacking Frnak in the head "accidentally" in the process. Is that too much to ask?

Grr and Arg.

(This post is brought to you by Jason's utter lack of shame that he still plays and whines about video games like a 12 year old.)