Project Runway Jumps Shark

I am sitting here watching tonight's episode of Project Runway on Bravo and I have to admit that it finally has jumped the shark.

First off, why bother having the models on the show this season? They haven't been used? This week the designers will be the models. Which brings me to the next problem, it’s a women's wear competition, so why do the designers have to design outfits for themselves? The poor guys are getting the shaft in this challenge.

So you might argue that this is similar to a challenge last season where they made each other over, but this is way to early in the season.

Between having to use weird materials (trash and the stuff from the apartment), working in teams and having to design for regular (aka fat) women -- I don't really feel like I know what any of these designers can really do. When will the madness end? Heidi, if it ain't broke don't fix it.

So You Think You Can Sing? (aka Celebrity Duets)

Fox premiered its new variety style talent competition last night with a two hour long episode featuring some of today’s most “successful musicians” and a cast of celebrities “not known for their singing abilities”. Of course I watched, and like with most of these programs I wondered how in the dark does the network really think America is?

For starters, the judges are not the cream of the crop. Marie Osmond, how d-list can you get, and if they were looking for sharp-tongued commentary then why call on Little Richard? The man looked and sounded like he was on drugs last night. And unfortunately the only judge with a real opinion, uber producer David Foster, is last on the panel and gets cut off each time because of time limitations.

Next we should move on to the Celebrities who are giving singing the ole college try. So this crew definitely doesn’t sing for there supper, but most of them have earned a buck or two singing a few tunes. Did the Network really think that with the presence of IMDB and Google -- that viewers wouldn’t quickly find out that many of the “contestants” have in fact done this before. Incidentally, all this info is also on the networks official site, too.

For example:

Jai Rodriguez, best known as the Queer Eye guy with out a real talent, has appeared on and off Broadway in Rent and Zanna, Don’t! just to name a few. And he had a gig performing Monday nights with his band at XL (a NYC gay bar.)

Lucy Lawless, best known for her role as Xena or America’s Top Lesbian Icon, has also appeared on Broadway in the musical Grease! and she has sung at many benefits and concerts.

And the list goes on… Leah Thompson was on Broadway in Cabaret. Alfonso Ribeiro was a child star, appearing in The Tap Dance Kid on Broadway and recorded several dance/pop singles for Island Records. Chris Jericho has his own rock band.

So why was none of this mentioned on the show last night? It’s not like Simon Cowell called an real bunch of amateurs and said “hey wanna try singing?” Is all lies, except for Carly Patterson who really is the only novice in the bunch, the rest have all sang professionally…Fox what’s the deal?

Heard on an Elevator

Little Girl: Mommy where are we?
Mom: Remember that silver spoon you got when you were born?
Little Girl: Yup!
Mom: It came from here, we're at Tiffany's!

The Cold (Sore) War

Cold Sore

Starts with a tingle
Next come the ugly blisters
Seven days to heal


As you can probably guess from the Haiku above, I am suffering from a cold sore (or a fever blister as they are sometimes known). I am depressed about it, which only serves to make it worse.

It is my own damn fault. A recipe for success:

Too much sun + too many late nights + making out with a man with a beard + stressing about my life = Cold Sores.

What kills me is that I take such good care of myself otherwise. I eat right, I exercise, I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs and I don’t smoke. Yet I suffer from chronic bouts of canker sores and often get cold sores. What gives?

I’ll now be ugly for next 7 to 10 days as I go through the cycle (blisters, puss, cracking, yellow crust, red skin, healing). Maybe I’ll just tell people I got in to a pub brawl and was punched in the mouth? Is that better or worse?

Apparently the man upstairs hasn’t ever gotten lucky and doesn’t want us to enjoy sex either…otherwise he wouldn’t have made some many STD’s. It’s just a thought.

My Reality, TV

I spent the entire night watching television. From 8pm until Midnight. Reality TV rocks!

The night started with So You Think You Can Dance…which is less reality and more entertainment. I have to admit, America ain’t got a clue when it comes to talent. Travis was screwed (ironically enough that’s the name of a song by Paris Hilton). While I feel Benji was fun to watch and was very entertaining, Travis was hands down the best dancer. It really doesn’t matter; cause what happened to last year’s winner? Travis will continue to work…I found a video of him in a Dr. Pepper commercial from when he was 9 years old. Go Travis! And Mia Michaels loves him, so I am not worried. And for all those pedophiles out there, come on now -- gay or not the boy is only 18…

Next on the line up was Project Runway. I never agree with the judges selections, but then again everyone has a very different aesthetic. However, I am over the whole have them use crap to make dresses…yes, this week they used trash! Hands down Vincent wins the Whack Job of the Year award! What more can I say on that, if you watch the show you know what I am talking about. Nina’s accent cracks me up. As much as I hate to admit it, I did really like Jeff’s dress -- it was hot! It should have won over Michael’s dress (which I also liked, but not as much as his coffee filter dress). And poor Allison, somehow Vincent hangs in one more week, why?

And finally I tuned into Workout! on Bravo. Lesbians, a hot southern boy and a gym…need I say more.

I love my television. Now if it could only love me back…

It’s in the Stars?

I don’t really believe in things that I can’t touch or see, so I don’t know why I read my horoscope or Susan Miller’s Astrology Zone. But this month Susan’s forecast includes a special message just for me…

Another way this moon may work out is that you may be asked to come before the public, to speak, or to host a TV show, as Neptune will see to it that your face appears "out there."

What does this mean? Is my future really in the stars?

Why Am I Like This*

*Special disclaimer, this post is not going to be funny.

So tonight I spent time with a close friend and we talked about life. I’ve come to the conclusion that life sucks. Unfortunately, this is not a new revelation.

So how do I figure out how to just enjoy life despite all the pit falls and disappointments? I’ve mentioned in many posts, that I have nothing really to complain about: I have a stable job, a roof over my head and people who love me. And yet I still do complain, what I don’t have is a job I enjoy, an apartment I am proud of or someone special to love and that loves me back.

So I need to figure out how to find balance. Most importantly, I need to stop measuring myself up against benchmarks such as heirs and celebrities. They are really anomalies, the truth is they are one in a million cases…and I have a better chance of getting hit by lightening.

But to quote a line from one of my favorite musicals, A CHORUS LINE, “All I want to be, is just happy!” And its true…that’s all I want. Here’s to finding it!

If you’re a heterosexual woman don’t read this

I told a gal pal of mine today to check out my last post. I think it’s funny, and most everyone who I made read it all found something funny about it. But when asked what she thought she had this to say, “It is more bitchy/bitter than funny.” Well Fuck Her! You know what, perhaps it is, but it’s still funny. I guess she feels some how guilty cause she is slowly becoming one of “those people” I am referring to. She just recently got engaged and I am more than happy for her. I want her to be happy, and if marriage and children means happiness then you go for it!

But what I am talking about she’ll never truly understand from my POV. Ok, as a single girl I am sure she has felt the pressures from other women….When are you getting married? When are you having a baby? And if she chooses not to do either of those things -- well there it is, she has the choice to do so…guess what, I don’t. At least not right now.

But here is what she missed from my last post -- this is my recipe for humor folks: self-deprecation with a dash of bitterness and some bitchiness to top it off.

So perhaps she is not my intended audience. In fact she isn’t my first gal pal to take issue with my anti-coupling and breading agenda. But at the end of the day everyone is allowed to have their own opinions. So they can have theirs and I’ll keep mine….So if you’re a heterosexual woman don’t read this! Hey, that sounds like a great book title to me!

And I then I drove off into the sunset…

So tonight I had to suffer through a steak dinner at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse with my seven male (and one female) co-workers. Ok, so I shouldn’t complain about a free meal -- don’t get me wrong the $40 dollar steak, $8.50 mashed potatoes and the $10.70 apple tart were excellent! But, yes and here it comes, I had to sit though conversations about everyone’s kids, summer homes and complaints about high property taxes. Topics I really have nothing to contribute too.

My favorite topic of the night was how everyone met their wives (please note the intended sarcasm!) I am not married, so I was not asked. But here is what I really wanted to say but didn’t, “I am not married, because the only place in the US I can get married, is Massachusetts!” Wonder how that would have gone over at this table full of conservative rich republican males?

So after the meal we had a caravan of cars waiting in front of the restaurant to take us all home. Three of guys all live in NJ, so they were piling into one tiny town car. Picture it, our boss is a “big guy” (read that as fat)and is 6'2" tall.

So, a driver called out my name and proceeded to walk me towards a big, black Escalade. Here was little ole me (ok, not so little at 6' tall), getting into this pimped out, rapper style, don’t fuck with me truck while the manly married men all crammed into there Lincoln clown car...it’s the little (or in this case the big) things that make my life great.