If it's good enough for Tim Gunn

As of this weekend, I've started watching HGTV. I've been living in apartments for three years now, and decorating is still not a thing that's really happened for. At all.

Well, unless you count the cheap-o DVD shelves that I painted (rather poorly) on a whim a couple of summers ago.

But now: HGTV! Because I'm hoping that watching hours upon hours of home buying/renovating/decorating is the source of people's decorating knowledge and capability, rather than a symptom of some innate, untouchable, stylishness.

I just don't want to be that person whose whole house could be described as "A Study in Beige." Nor do I want to be the person who has a giant statue of a tiger - formed entirely out of stained glass and mirrors - serving as the base of her coffee table.

(Actually, it'd be kind of fun to be that person. How cool would it be to be some crazy, aging society dame with a fur turban, a ton of brooches, a gin habit, and maybe some sort of long-suffering personal assistant?)

So, anyway, I'm watching HGTV in the hopes that by the time I have a home, and some money, and a scroll saw (I should never own a scroll saw), I'll be full of clever decorating ideas.

As of day two, the only idea I've had is this: HGTV totally needs scripted programming.

It could be about unreasonably young and sexy home inspectors looking at each other melodramatically while assessing basement water damage. And one of them could have a fraught relationship with a corrupt realtor who forces them to falsify inspections so that her sellers get good prices.

Season 1 could end with the delicate and naive (but damaged) lead female character inspecting a house that has been booby trapped with tons of mold! Oh no! "Will she survive?" you'll wonder, as the season closes with a close-up of her panicked (but carefully made-up) face.

But then, you know, of course she will. Because she's only been in there for a few minutes, and it's mold, for God's sake, not arsenic.

Stuff. Things. Words.

Ugh.

I have four different posts the the draft stage right now, and none are really coming together. One of them is even a timely discussion of current issues!

(Note: timely discussion of current issues = me talking about last night's Project Runway.)

But, due to my pledge to live every day like it's Rex Manning Day, I mustn't dwell. I'll get to those posts eventually.

For today, I'll just focus on calling upon my fellow geeks to rage at the injustice of Sy-Fy (which is still one of the dumbest name changes ever) ending Eureka. Rage at the injustice! Then read the article! Then feel slightly silly about your outsized reaction! Then mumble an apology for your behavior! And promise to pay for the damages!

Basically, Eureka is getting 6 episodes to wrap things up after the end of their fifth season. The show is currently airing it's fourth season, and filming it's fifth. Which means that they have time to make changes to season five, if necessary, to lay groundwork for a series finale. For any show it's a pretty decent set-up. For a sci-fi show, it's kind of living the dream: a show that gets plenty time to close up shop, rather than A) being unceremoniously pulled from the line-up; or B) gradually descending into a sea of garbage wherein the lead actor is replaced by some random dude, playing an alternate world version/dual- identity mash-up of the lead character, and all of the other mains are gone, the entire premise has been replaced with something largely nonsensical, and my favorite character has been turned into some sort of rarely appearing a head in a jar.

Sorry. Had a moment there. The point is, Eureka is ending, which is a bummer. But they're getting more than enough time to build up to Jack and Allison having a baby, Lupo and Zane getting married, and Beverly Barlowe... doing whatever it is that Beverly Barlowe does.

Or, I guess they could just start yet another timeline.

Out of touch with reality

It's been awhile. I'm going to blame holiday-related lethargy. It radiated into the entire month of November.

Anyway, I spent all last night preparing to post about ANTM, but it occurred to me that regardless of the winner, I didn't care that much. Ann can't do commercial work, and even at her best has a weird walk. Chelsey is probably  too old to really take off, and I keep calling her "Celia" in my head, so obviously I don't have some great love of her work either. I haven't really cared about a finale since Annaleigh (completely illogically) lost to "McKee" a million seasons ago. But that left me with nothing to write about.

And then I watched the premiere of Top Chef: All-Stars. (Warning: There are spoilers ahead. But season premiere spoilers, so they barely count).

The episode itself was pretty good - the All-Stars are pretty well-selected (though I wish Nice Voltaggio or Future Santa Claus Kevin signed on instead of Mike), and the producers can be happy that most of the people known for being a-holes seem largely unchanged and unapologetic (looking at you, Marcel). Everything was exactly as it should be, including the first challenge - revamp the dish that got you booted from your season. Even better, while half of the chefs cooked, the other half ate their competitions dishes with the judges. And the chefs who cooked watched the diners on closed circuit TV from the kitchen. All good stuff. Then Anthony Bourdain called Fabio's pasta dish one of the worst things he'd ever eaten. Only, you know, in a Bourdanier (let's agree that that's a word) way. Fabio was pissed, which is fair.

Here's what isn't: at judging Fabio went off on this whole thing about how he came here to be criticized in a constructive way, not to be made fun of (question: how do you rephrase that to move the preposition? I mean, without sounding like a douche). He even implies that, if they weren't in a judge/contestant situation, he might even actually fight Bourdain.

That's where I got kind of annoyed - it's not just that I'm pretty sure Bourdain is a scrapper who could totally take Fabio. Nor is it just that I'm of that camp that thinks getting in the judges faces is petty and unprofessional. No, my main problem is that being made fun of is EXACTLY WHAT YOU CAME HERE FOR. Because, before anything else, this is a reality show. So when Tyra calls your walk goofy, Michael Kors says you made your model look like a slutty disco ball or Tom Colicchio says your food was so bad it actually offended him on a personal level, yes it sucks, but no one made you audition.

If you're looking for a bunch of people to taste your food, then focus on helping you improve it using really constructive and ego-bolstering language, you should take cooking classes at Williams-Sonoma. These are judges. Their job is to judge. Preferably in a way that's entertaining. And using language strong enough that it helps the audience get really committed to the idea that this  person deserves to win, and this person should be banned from ever cooking again ever.

Not knowing this going into a competition-based reality show is naive (the format is hardly new); not knowing this going into your SECOND competition-based reality show is just plain dumb. But that's okay. Given the competition, I'm sure Fabio will only have to deal with it for a few weeks.

La Croix, sweetie, La Croix!

Ok, so this is far from a certainty, but I'm opting to get really excited now even though it may mean being horribly disappointed later : AbFab may come back! 

Jennifer Saunders isn't currently working, because she's in treatment for breast cancer, but it seems like she's been kicking the idea around with Joanna Lumley. BUT she's not making any statements about it at this point (which is understandable- she got bigger things to deal with), so she may never opt to advance it past the "kicking the idea around" stage. Plus, who knows if June Whitfield, Julia Sawalha and Jane Horrocks would necessarily be interested in coming back.

But who needs a measured and reasonable perspective on the situation? AbFab may come back!


While we're on the subject of fashion comedies, on this week's ANTM Tyra (who is basically a parody of a parody of a parody of herself at this point) aired her directorial debut. And it is...so many things. Mostly it's like a really bad student-level art film. But there's a wonderful segment around the 1:15 mark where Tyra seemed to ask herself "What if that girl from The Ring had been FIERCE and SMIZED?"

It's one of my new favorite things.

Fear and logic don't really mix

I've been meaning to talk about The Walking Dead. Mostly to say that it's a really good show.

Well. Point of clarification: the pilot is fantastic. Apparently the second episode is as well, but since I haven't yet watched it (and may not ever), I wouldn't really know.

You see, me and horror? Not so much. My husband and horror movies/books/shows are BFFs who would gladly wile away a weekend French braiding each others entrails, but I just can't handle it. But I watched the pilot for The Walking Dead, because I read the comic and - as my husband repeatedly pointed out - it's more character-driven than scare-driven. So I watched it. And here's the thing about a character driven zombie story: instead of sudden moments that make you scream, you instead have sort of a looming sense of panic and danger that just never goes away.

But I made it through, even in spite of some very realistic-looking zombies. I was super proud of myself. Until after the show was over. Because it was then that, walking by the bathroom,  I saw that the shower curtain was pulled shut.

I looked at it and thought to myself "I'd better pull that curtain back, so I can make sure that a zombie didn't come up the drain."

And then I thought about the fact that for that to be possible:
1) Zombies would have to BE AN ACTUAL THING.
and
2) A full-sized (albeit slightly decomposed) human being would have to be able to fit through our bathtub drain.

I gave both of these things some thought and decided that yes, that seems entirely plausible, and actually checked my tub for hiding zombies. Because if I didn't, and a zombie later ambushed me when I was trying to use the restroom, I'd have no one to blame but myself.

I'm not really good with temptation

So I made my latest nerd confession earlier this week - I'm finally entering the (much lauded) world of Battlestar Galactica. And I'm entering said world in the way I tend to prefer - with DVD mini-marathons, after the show is already over. Seriously, if I don't start watching a show by the second season, I'll usually just wait five seasons or so, then start watching it all on DVD. Then either I catch up and rejoin the weekly audience, or the show is already over and I burn through seven years of someone's career in three months.


The  problem with that is that the ENTIRE INTERNET already knows all of the answers, and you're 20 episodes from even knowing the questions. I don't really mind spoilers in articles - as far as I'm concerned it you're two years or more behind, enter the internet at your own risk. The real issue is that it's all on Wikipedia, and I know it's all on Wikipedia. So, inevitably, the day will come (usually after the second episode) that I wonder "when will this character JUST DIE?", and I'll look it up.  Then I'll find out that the character in question becomes a super-powered ninja space-doctor shortly after killing my favorite character for the magic diamond hidden in her stomach. In season five. So I spend the next 80-some episodes thinking things like "Man, you are really going to brood over this emotional moment when that guy turns on you in a couple of years". Which kind of screws up the shows dramatic arc for me.

For Battlestar I'm really trying not to look. Not really succeeding, but definitely trying. My method of choice: going to TV Tropes instead. Here's how it works: when I find myself about to Google enough information about Battlestar to make watching it completely redundant, I go to TV Tropes and start reading entries and opening tabs for any other entries that sound interesting. Then, by the time I've finished reading most of the tabs I've opened, it's three days later and I'm too weak from exhaustion/dehydration to seek out spoilers.

If you don't believe me check out a couple of tropes, and say goodbye to your weekend.

The land of Nerdom is full of slippery slopes

I just started watching Battlestar Galactica.

Though it's the new one, which I understand is considered way less nerdy that watching the 70s one.

But still, it's Battlestar Galactica. You can't say that without feeling nerdy. They're not even real words. But, the fact remains that everything I've heard - and the little bit I've seen of it so far - suggests that it's a damn good show, so I'm fine with it.

The real danger is in the trailers on the DVDs. Like, for example, the complete series of Cleopatra 2525. Everything about it, starting with the name, sounds awful. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't think twice about it. But thanks to Battlestar Galactica, I've now seen the trailer. And now I know it has Gina Torres.

I love Gina Torres. "It has Gina Torres" is generally all it takes to get me to watch something. But we're talking about a show whose central concept is a cryogenically frozen stripper who wakes up in 2525 (as I'm sure you guessed) to FIGHT ROBOTS. That's not just a thing that happens in the show, that's the whole show. And actually I'm considering watching this. But the question is - where does it go from there? Am I ready to take myself one step closer to being a person who clears out an entire room in their apartment for a giant to-scale model of the Starship Enterprise cardboard cutouts of all 11 Doctors surrounding it?

Because, as much as I don't want to be that person (for one, I don't have the space), there's a part of that's thinking "well, just having the new  Doctors could be kind of cool."

Though of course, there are people who have no idea what mean by the "11 Doctors," who hence kind of think I already am that person.

See? Slippery slope.

Come back, Jack.

We are now officially living in a world without Law & Order. Well, except for Law & Orders: Perv, D'Onofrio, and LA (it's too new for a nickname). But, look deep within an ask yourself: is Law & Order still Law & Order without Sam Waterston? I don't think so.

And sure, since I've only watched twice since Jerry Orbach died (once for Jesse L. Martin's final episode, and once just to shake my head in mild dismay at Dennis Farina), I'm in the "part of the problem" camp as it relates to the shows cancellation. And of course, the epic level at which the show is syndicated means that at any given time, I can probably find the dream team of McCoy, Briscoe and Green on anywhere from one to eight channels. But what about Sam Waterston? What will he do now? Now that no one needs him to swing by and inform an improbably attractive A.D.A. that you "can't un-ring the bell"? And what's the point of watching a new Law & Order if it has zero chance of reminding me of that SNL informercial sketch about robot insurance for old people?

All the new one is going to remind me of is the existence of Skeet Ulrich.


(Seriously, though - I'm not being mean. I completely forgot that Skeet Ulrich ever was.)

Farewell, Premiere Week

At some point in the middle of the summer, my husband stated his intent to watch Shit My Dad Says.


"Why?" I asked.

"Shatner." he responded.

Then they started airing promos. Then they switched leads. Then they aired more promos. I told him "this show is going to be awful."

"Shatner." he responded.

"Will Sasso." I argued.

But no matter how awful the promo, he insisted that Shatner alone was enough for him to watch the first few episodes, at least.

Last night, Shit My Dad Says premiered. And my husband, who insisted for months that we should at least watch it for the first couple of weeks, made it all of three minutes before putting a pillow over his head and begging me to make the show go away forever.

The best night in television

Some times in life, there is a sentence that simply must begin with a "y'all".

Example: Y'all, it's makeover night on America's Next Top Model. I love makeover night. I love it in a way that I would express with capital letters and extra o's, but I've already y'alled today, and I try to only publicize one of my shameful speech tendencies per post.

Makeover night has the power to be one of the best episodes the Top Model season, because it's the one where the girls cry and you don't have to feel even sort of bad about it. I'm sure having to change your hair and having no choice in the matter sucks, but at this point, it's Cycle 83.7 or something; if your hair is "just such a huge part of who (you) are", then DON'T AUDITION. Because Tyra, it seems, created this entire show as an excuse to shave girl's heads, dip them in bleach, or boldly explore new territory in the world of weaves. In fact, as the cycles have gone on, it's basically divided into three makeover choices: Super-short/shaved head; world's longest weave, or as blonde as they can get your before your scalp bleeds enough that EMTs are called. Oh, and eyebrow bleaching. And yet, even when they get one of these obvious categories, these girls freak out because somehow, they thought they'd be the exception, and Tyra would deem their hair perfect just the way it is. It's not going to happen, darlings.

Except for last season (or was it the one before that?) where the girl LOST IT when she thought they were cutting her hair, and then the Jays said "J/K, we think you're the Queen of Magic Modelland!", which pissed me off, because seriously? Any other girl threw a fit like that and she would of been on the first bus home.


Anyway, the three rotating makeover options have gotten crazy dull, but there are always exceptions, and that's gives makeover night it's potential. It's the hope that somewhere in between finding different reference points for "it'll be a crap load of (potentially busted-looking) weave" Tyra will pop out with "I'm going to give you hair like a glittering horse's mane."

And, in case that happens, don't you want to be there?

Recommended Internettings

Project Runway comes on tonight. And tomorrow? Tomorrow you find a reason to love Facebook again/even more (depending on your current feelings on Mafia Wars and whether Facebook Places has caused your house to get robbed yet).

Tim Gunn has a Facebook page, and he is all up in Lifetime's face. It's amazing. It ranks among the best things I've seen online lately (only slightly below that baby that does the Samba, because that's freaking amazing). It's transcendent. He's so polished and put together and well-mannered, except he's telling everything. And he's taken to calling Heidi, Michael and Nina "the crack-smoking judges". Did you know Tim Gunn was even aware that crack existed? I didn't even think he used that word. Even if a dish broke, I assumed he'd say "Oh dear! There seems to be something of a fissure in my dinnerware" (the word plate is also beneath the Tim who lives in my mind). And he repeatedly acknowledges that Lifetime has asked him not to call them that, but he does it anyway.

More than that, he spells out all of the behind-the-scenes clusterfucks that viewers have no idea ever even occurred. Somewhere in New York, I'm sure there's a Project Runway PR person who pours themselves a  whiskey for every page view it gets but, when it isn't your job to make the show look like sunny good times, these videos are amazing.

I think at this point we're about ten episodes in to the season, so it's possible that everyone but me has long since been aware of his recaps, but I just found out about them a few days ago, so I felt compelled to share.

Carrot/Stick

I have a problem with the gimmick for this season of The Apprentice. For those of you who haven't spent the last couple of days watching fall TV previews, the gimmick is that all of the new contestants have been laid off from their jobs and have been searching for work for quite awhile. I think the tag line for the season is something like "Everyone deserves a second chance".

On the surface: great idea - you get all of the on-camera interviews where they talk about feeling like they couldn't support their families, and the emotional struggles that spending a long time out of work can bring up. It makes it easy for the audience to connect with the contestants. Plus, I'm fairly sure that they get some money just for being on the show, which is obviously a plus.

The problem? You spend all this time saying "these people have been hurt by the job losses that have affected so many of us, but fear not! For The Donald can save them." You let them tell you how being unable to find work for months has really damaged their sense of self-worth. About the things they and their families have had to give up. And then, one by one, you fire them.

I will admit, I haven't ever seen the show, so I can't really speak to what sort of benefits and opportunities are made available to the contestants over the course of the season's run - maybe there's enough  to make just going on the show worthwhile, even if you don't win. Barring that, you're just taking a bunch of stressed out people, dangling a job in front of them, and then snatching it away on national television. Which doesn't sound nearly as heartwarming as the promos make it out to be.

Just when I think I'm out....

Last season, I quit watching America's Next Top Model. Or maybe it was the cycle before that. I have no idea. But it doesn't matter because the show airs so continuously that it's all starting to bleed together. And because it didn't last. By the end of the cycle, I was back in front of the TV, shouting that the girl with the shitty runway walk should have been cut weeks ago, and accepting "smize" as a word.

This cycle, though, was going to be different. We'd moved, so we had a new DVR which meant ANTM we no longer set to record. So I could just not record it, and that would be that. And that's exactly what I did.

Until 7:30 last night, when I decided I had to check it out. After all, this season's prizes include a spread in Vogue Italia, plus the cover of the beauty supplement (is that prestigious? I never pay much attention to supplemental sections - to me it sounds like the equivalent of saying "the cover of the fall catalog for Italian JC Penney"). Plus I think that Cover Girl isn't on the prize list anymore. Which could mean the end of the super-awkward Cover Girl product placement. So I watched it. And, to be honest, I was kind of dissapointed.

It wasn't the models - there was one girl who seems really talented, and one who really seems to know the industry. Plus they cut the two girls who brought major drama (the "counter-culture" girl that everyone called fake and the girl said she was glad not to have a black roommate. Seriously. She said this. She said it was just poor word choice but...damn, girl). Everyone knows that big stupid drama will come into to play pretty early anyway - when they put in girls who already have enemies by the end of day one, it feels too forced. Anyway, other than that they filled all of their other categories: the manipulator, the sweetheart, the struggling single mom, the girl who's socially awkward. Plus, almost everyone seemed to have long hair, so there's sure to be some tears come makeover time, when Tyra shaves all of them bald and dips their heads in bleach (as she is wont to do).

The problem was, whither the crazy? Suddenly, the show is trying to skew high-fashion, and the casting episode - usually the height of Tyra's Tyra-centric craziness - was largely gimmick free. No Tyra-bot from the future. No Tyra's School For Girls. No random Greek Goddess theme. No Tyra's ridiculously bad French accent for her Mean Model character. Nothing. There was a moment of lip service to it, when Tyra dressed in a private school uniform to introduce a montage about modeling.By which I mean, a montage about Tyra. Photos of Tyra as a kid. Photos of Tyra modeling. Video of Tyra - a full-grown woman - dressed like an eleven-year-old, and acting out her own childhood experiences.

This was a good start, right? Maybe the theme would be "Tyra through the years", and the girls would be forced to turn Tyra's baby pictures into fierce model poses. But no. Just "this year we've grouped you. Into groups. Of people that agents might group you with." Look, I get it. You can't be a crazy CW carnival and a respectable high-fashion gauntlet at the same time. But couldn't you try? Because it's not like one week of (relative) austerity is enough to make everyone forget the year Ms. Jay added a new giant ruffle to his collar for every girl eliminated. Just own your crazy, people.

But it was only one week, so I'm still holding out hope.. Maybe by the time we get to makeover week, Tyra will explain everything in a high voice while wearing a tiara and a big ball gown.

Oh wait, I think she already did that.

Full Day of Crazy

What did you do over Labor Day weekend? Grill? Visit family?

Me? I watched Snapped. For like, a day. With some Daria (I love you, Logo - you give us Daria, Buffy, and RuPaul) and a little really inept yoga thrown it. But yeah, mostly Snapped.

Have you ever seen Snapped? It's amazing. Every single episode is about some woman who snaps (I love an informative title, don't you?) and kills her husband, or boyfriend or...actually it's usually one of those. Oxygen airs it in basically day-long marathons every Sunday, and it's completely genius because once you start they have you for the entire day. You're barely done hearing about the verdict that left a community reeling when a 15-year-old killed her parents and they've already moved on to telling you that this quaint home in small-town Texas might seem like a dream...but for the Hall family, it was about to turn into a suburban nightmare. It's like Dateline without the gravitas. I don't know that I've ever come across Snapped without watching at least three episodes. Sunday I watched four. And DVRed 3. I watched part of one while getting ready for work this morning.

I kind of have a problem.

Can we talk about Top Chef for a minute?

I really like Top Chef. Last season? AMAZING. The entire season, you got to watch four great chefs battle it out and lay waste to their competitors. And, yes, looking back Angry Voltaggio's win was almost assured (though I was really hoping the Young Santa or Friendly Voltaggio would pull off the win) but the others were amazing competition. And the season before that had Carla! And Stefan! And Fabio! And...okay, I don't even want to talk about the winner, but still - good, good, lively stuff.

This season, not so much. This week was Restaurant Wars, which should be an exciting, drama-filled hour. It is the only time that the average person might see someone almost get decked because they think a Gastro-pub is too "done". But last night had nothing remotely approaching that. The whole struggle of one concept over another, or how much the budget should go to dishes? Nope. It was just "Oh, Restaurant Wars? Ok. Here is our menu. (Commercial Break) And now we have shopped." And then the team with all the normal hallmarks of a loser (awful name, bad front of house) won. And seriously, "EVOO"? Not only does it sound dumb, but I can't be the only one who looked at it written down and immediately heard Rachel Ray's voice in my head.

What struck me most, though, is that by Restaurant Wars the show should be a battle between a bunch of fantastic chefs, whereas this week the judges didn't seem super-impressed with anyone. There's no one you really root for. Maybe Tiffany, who's awesome as a person, and one of the stronger chefs in the season, but I can't help but wonder how far she would have made it in last season's culinary Thunderdome. It's Angelo's game to win at this point, but he's so...off-putting. He's not bad enough to be their actual villain, but he's just sort of pesky. My favorite is Kelly, but she's sooooo low key. And not reality show "generally affable but dropping the occasional wit-bomb" low-key, actual low-key. Every interview seems like they shook her awake at 4 A.M. and started asking questions. And, I mean, I still think she's great, but she's not exactly the sort of person you make a fan page about.

It was just a bit shocking realizing that the show has made it this far with two pieces of dead weight still holding on and no clear top three.

I say this with love. Nitpicky, judgmental love.

Over the weekend, after spending an afternoon picking raspberries (which is an awfully WASPy activity for someone who meets none of the criteria) my husband and I settled in for our own personal four-episode Buffy mini-marathon. Now we're in the middle of season three (which is an amazing season) and um...isn't Angel's cemetery-adjacent, semi-derelict death mansion awfully...well-appointed? In episode three the place had nothing but some manacles on a sconce (which, P.S., seriously? You've been locking up a werewolf for half a year, and you thought some decorative iron work was a good place to tether your feral ex?), and an Angel-shaped char mark on the ground.

I let it slide when, in the next episode, he suddenly had pants. Maybe Buffy got them for him. Maybe a crisp pair of trousers is the first step on the path to civilization. Maybe you just can't have David Boreanaz running around ass-out on network television. Whatever the reason, I was okay with the clothes. But then, three episodes after he got dropped out of some mysterious hell-place, the guy has a freaking sectional sofa. And it's nice! It's all nice, and modern, and crisp, with beige cushions that you would think might not be the best idea in a graveyard, but whatever, it's a really nice sofa. My sofa is a hand-me-down from my husband's grandmother, and it looks like a hand-me-down from someone's grandmother. Even friends of mine who have notably nicer furniture than mine don't have a sofa that nice - where did Mr. Broody No-Job get the money for that?

For an evil vampire, I get it. You steal from the people you kill, then invest in companies that rip off old ladies or make cosmetics out of baby seal tears. But when you turn over a new leaf aren't you supposed to give all of your ill-gotten gains to under-privileged school children, leaving you to glance sadly about your spartan hovel and contemplate the torment you've visited on those around you? It kind of harms your broody emo street cred when you're mourning all the terrible deeds lurking in your past on some freshly delivered fine home furnishings.

You're pushing it, Affleck (with bonus sadness)

Over the weekend I caught up with the rest of the world and saw Inception and, along with it, the trailer for Ben Affleck's new movie, The Town. It looks good, it's just...

Look, I've nearly trained myself to suspend my disbelief enough to accept the idea that all good cops and federal agents are well-coiffed, attractive and stylish ("I may have a murderer to catch, but not before I get my roots done"), and I rest just this side of finding the whole "I traumatized her/I love her" thing kind of ridiculous. The casting is mainly what saves it for me - Jon Hamm as the federal agent and Jeremy Renner as the friend who won't let Affleck leave his life crime is enough to make me forgive the more melodramatic stuff. Plus, Renner's character name is Jem, which makes me wish I could get drunk at a party and ask him if the script was "truly outgeous...truly, truly, truly outrageous." Which is why I shouldn't meet famous people.

Anyway, I've done some major digressing. The point is, I can more or less accept all of these components of The Town, and I was ready to give it a shot but...Blake Lively? Seriously?

I have nothing against her as an actress. I don't. But no quantity of cheap tank tops, heavy eye makeup, bad lighting, and really long fake nails can change the fact that that is Serena Van Der Woodsen. Maybe in the movie itself she'll totally surprise me and really embody the role, but so far...no. I can't look at her and say "yes, this is clearly Ben Affleck's hard living, wrong-side-of-the-tracks ex-girlfriend or possibly hard-living, wrong-side-of-the-tracks younger sister. Well, hopefully younger sister because she's like half his age which is kind of gross." 

Oh -as I was trying to figure out how to close this out, I came across this unrelated A.V. Club article.

Fox, please just stop it. The Jersey Shore is very popular and funny, in a tragic sort of way, but that doesn't mean you need to get yourself a piece of the action. Or even if you must, does The Situation actually have to be there? Why not just do a show about the whole "Guido culture" without the awkward cameo? Just...stop with all the crossovers. Bones is a really fun show, when no one's consulting The Dog Whisperer, or camping out for Avatar tickets, or solving Constantine's murder. In their new Sienna minivan. While Motley Crue performs in the background.

You don't make Hugh Laurie do this crap.

And here we are, again

Sorry for my absence the past few days. We moved over the weekend, so I spent last week packing, and I've spent this week studiously avoiding unpacking. I fully expect to have my butt in gear by this weekend and to be shamelessly promoting my soon-to-launch Etsy shop by Monday.

But from now until Friday, I'm mostly going to loll about, read the new Scott Pilgrim (!), make French flashcards, and re-watch Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and seasons 1&2 of Veronica Mars.

Saturday I'll be productive. Right up until the Doctor Who season finale, which has potential to be awesome.

But Sunday, I'll definitely be a useful part of society.

I'd say it "get's my goat," except I would NEVER say "get's my goat"

I've developed a new pet peeve. Developing pet peeves is really something of a hobby of mine, and this one strikes the perfect balance of being fairly reasonable and kind of nit-picky at the same time.

I'm currently really annoyed with TV/Movie fashion. I've long since accepted the fact that the leads on any given TV show aimed at young people will dress in an improbably cool/hip/of-the-moment way, even if they're supposed to be drunken slobs. Further, I've had to embrace the fact that (in order to be fully make-over ready) nerds will often be beautiful people with their super-flattering haircuts artfully mussed to imitate a severe need for conditioner. Fine. I get that. That's just the reality of the situation.

But I've inexplicably decided to draw the line at all of these people dressing in $70 button-downs under $120 sweaters. I mean, if the person in question has a great job? Fine, I'll take it. But when it's a random high school student in the middle of Kansas (I'm looking at you, Lana Lang) it gets a little absurd.

Now it's possible that my parents were just wildly under-investing in my wardrobe, but back in my day if I wanted a $22 t-shirt from PacSun (shut up, we all have our phases), I was paying for that shit myself. If I had wanted the 60-some-odd-dollar t-shirt that the blonde girl of Secret Life of the American Teenager (the one who's always in the clips on The Soup) apparently wore last week, my mom would have laughed in my face. That's not even hyperbole. She would have looked at me, laughed, and walked away. And that would have been her WHOLE ANSWER.

Plus, though I'm loathe to even suggest this, isn't it kind of a missed opportunity on the part of the networks? As prevalent as product placement has become, why not outfit the cast of Glee in Gap, Banana Republic and Old Navy, then air ads every episode offering the chance to dress just like Quinn Fabray for $20 per piece? Sure, it smacks of old 1950s television, where shows would have a full-on commercial as part of the plot, but that's basically come back anyway. Spending the first 30-seconds of a commercial break hearing about how Rachel put some pep in her step with Piper Lime ballet flats is no worse that Angela and Hodgins taking a fresh-off-the-lot Sienna Mini-Van to a crime scene, or Chuck Bartowski eating a $5-footlong while under fire from rogue spies. And it would have some pretty solid logic behind it.

I'm not suggesting that Blair Waldorf start wearing clothes from Kohl's (please, CW, don't make Blair Waldorf wear clothes from Kohl's), just that maybe characters' clothes should actually reflect things about the characters. Like age. Or employment level. Or income. Or whether they even care about their clothes.

Oh, and also? I wear the same jeans twice in a week so maybe shirts could pop up more that once per season.

Reasonably Related Title

There's a TV... thing that bothers me. I can't really call it a trope, because my extensive research (2 hours on tvtropes.org, most or which was spent clicking links from the Supernatural page) only turned up two actual examples, though I know I've seen it more than that. I cannot stand it when people in shows/movies/books/what have you demonstrate what a social pariah they are by eating their lunch in the bathroom. My issue with it is threefold:
1) I've been the new kid. Unless you smell, making at least one friend by lunchtime isn't really that hard.
2) You know what's not a good way to make new friends? Becoming the girl who eats on the toilet. "Does she have some sort of intestinal issues?" your new peers will wonder.
3) People. Poop. In. There. I don't bring open containers of food into the bathroom. Seriously. If I buy a soda, take one sip and have to pee then that soda is over. Because there are some things you just don't come back from, and drinking toilet soda is right up there getting vomited on by an adult.

Additionally (and I recognize that I should have counted this as one of my issues, but I couldn't pass up a chance to say "threefold"), how small does a school have to be for there to be no viable empty table, or floorspace, or anywhere where someone isn't peeing within two feet of your snack pack?

I could go farther with this, but not without veering directly into "crazed germaphobe" territory. Instead I'll just close out by saying, if you've never been to tvtropes.org, go now. search for any show of movie, start clicking links and watch the day slip away.