I would like to make an observation. With very few exceptions, there are two things that can make most any guy hot. Either put him in a tux, or put a pair of glasses on him. I've only known two people in my entire life that were exceptions to this rule. A guy I knew in college broke the glasses rule, and this guy with whom I was in band in high school broke the tux rule. That was a sad day, really, when I realized the tux rule could be broken.
The glasses, I think, have more to do with the style. I think if the guy I knew wasn't wearing huge, honking Coke bottle glasses, it would have been ok.
I just wanted to make that observation, as it hit me upside the head today.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
I remember the look in your eyes when I told you that this was goodbye. You were begging me, 'Not tonight. Not here. Not now.'
Dennis just came through here talking about coffee, and it made me realize I haven't had caffeine all day. I was drinking apple juice in my coffee mug this morning (remember the Simply Apple juice?) and have had water in it since then. I had apple juice again at lunch and I'm poor, so I haven't bought groceries (Diet Coke among those) and. . .I have to cut myself off here and say that after he came through talking about coffee, he kidnapped two of my coffee cups from my desk (I currently have, plus the two kidnapped ones, 6 coffee cups of varying sizes, on my desk. It's an addiction, really.)
Anyway, I hadn't been grocery shopping in a while, so I didn't have any Diet Coke at home, and I think the answer to why I've been sluggish all day long. Aside from the usual "I hate my job, it's sucking out my soul" aspect of the day. So I should seriously consider going to the grocery store and either picking up more coffee for the office (even though I'm pretty sure I bought the last batch) or getting some Diet Cokes for my house.
The day started out in a sucky manner. I came in to an e-mail from my boss (she e-mails passive-aggressive things fairly frequently), and she. . .
Oh, for any of you that are interested, I got the results of the "Where Did Dennis Take My Coffee Cups?" question. He took them and got coffee for both of us. Awesome. See? Just because this is a soul-sucking environment, there is still the occasional burst of Whoo!! Not everyone I work with sucks!!! Also, Carrie just told me that my Make-A-Wish article was awesome. Go me!
So you know, I don't even feel like talking about the passive-aggressive e-mail anymore. Because I just had a piece of cake (happy birthday, Aron!) and I have coffee and all is good in the world.
Let's talk about how I've lied to you about my ANTM recaps. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. I know that there are a couple people who aren't watching the show and who are. . .not counting on my recaps, per se, but who otherwise wouldn't get the awesome commentary on the show. I'm sorry! I swear, I'll get these finished. Tonight. I will do at east one of the three on which I'm behind tonight.
So, when I went downstairs to get cake, someone asked Aron how old he is, and he said he was 25. I'd thought he was older than that, so I started to say, "I thought you were older than me." But that's not what I meant. I KNEW he was older than me, but what I was trying to say was that I thought the distance between my age and his age was greater. So then I tried, "I thought you were more older than me," but that doesn't seem right either. So how would you say that? "Aron, I thought that the number of years you have lived surpassed the number of years I've lived by a greater numeral." That sounds about right.
I'm going home this weekend!! That is to say, I'm going to Raleigh. I'm very excited about this prospect, as life around here is entirely too complicated and wretched (at work) and stressful. I'm leaving Friday morning and coming back at some point Monday, and I'm very, very excited. Beyond excited. Excited x 1,000. 4 days of. . .not here. And I get to see Katie. Katie's my sister, if you didn't know, and pretty much my favorite person ever. She's cool, which is odd for a 16-year-old. But hanging out with her is actually fun.
Ok, so I'll (hopefully) be back with an ANTM recap. I almost promise.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
I'd rather sleep my whole life away than let you keep me from dreaming.
Why yes, I am, in fact, sitting in the parking lot of a Holiday Inn in Asheville, picking up their wireless Internet signal. Why do you ask?
Seriously, that's what I'm doing.
"But Sarah," you might say (Yes. My actual name is Sarah. Deal with it. At this point, it would be a relief for someone at work to find this and fire me for something inappropriate I've said. Although, to be fair, I guess I've never actually said where I work. So there's that, at least. There's no proof. Kind of.)
"But Sarah," you would say, after being appalled that I interrupted your interrogation of me. "You don't live in Asheville. It's almost 11:30 p.m. What in the world are you doing that far from home at 11:30 p.m. on a Thursday night, when you have to work a full day tomorrow, starting with an interview ith a douchebag?"
Well, I'll tell you. When I'm angry, I drive. It's not a good habit, as it causes wear and tear on your car, and when you're living in the one part of the country that's freaking out about a "gas shortage" (perpetuated, incidentally, by the media telling everyone there might be a gas shortage and, as a result, causing everyone to rush out and get gas, perpetuating their own drama and crisis. Not that I think people around here are dumb. Even though I do.) I'm aware that I've wasted gas by driving out here with no real purpose except to steal Internet from Holiday Inn (Iz sittin' in your parking lot. Stealin' your Internetz.)
But the way I figure it, it's less self-destructive to drive around, no faster than you usually do, than it is to go drink yourself into a coma. Far less. And it probably costs around the same, truth be told. A night out at a bar and the trip from my house to Asheville is probably about the same.
Or, at least it was, before the Big Gas "Crisis" of 2008.
So why am I angry?
I don't really want to get too into detail, because, as I believe I mentioned at the very beginning of my time blogging here that I didn't want this to turn into my old livejournal, which was angstastic and emolicious. I didn't like that.
However.
Have you ever been so entirely starved for affection and attention that you took someone just being nice to you (which, apparently, you aren't entirely used to) and took it as them being interested in you, and so you, in turn, even though the person totally isn't your type and is a nice enough person, but just not for you, convince yourself that you're interested in because you just so. badly. want someone that's all your own, that you don't have to share, that can make you feel like the last person you were with did, except without all the crap and drama, and then you, through a couple of conversations with the aforementioned person, find out that they "like you as a friend, but not as anything more" (which, upon reflection, sounds so incredibly high school that you want to invite the person to the 5-year reunion your class is having this weekend that you are most assuredly not going to, because you haven't been away from these people long enough to forget why you disliked them in the first place) and you realize, after the conversation, that while your pride and self-esteem are incredibly, incredibly wounded and scarred, the worst thing about it isn't that you were, in essence, flat-out rejected, because you're actually ok with that, because, as you've realized, you weren't ACTUALLY interested in this guy, but that the worst thing is that it's yet someone else who doesn't want you, who you're not good enough for, who reminds you of the you you were in high school, the you you thought you'd left behind in college when you finally found real friends and a niche, which was promptly taken from you when you graduated and moved up to this wretched, wretched job where nothing you do is ever good enough, and you can't get away from the one person who broke your heart, possibly beyond all repair, even though you knew what you were getting into when you got involved and, truth be told, you can't blame him entirely, and you know that, and you hate the fact that he could possibly know how much he has turned your entire world upside down, even though you'd never say it to him, and you're certain he doesn't read your ramblings here and all you really want to do is get him out of your head, and certainly out of your heart, because you know how awful he is for you, but you just remember the beginning, when it was all good, before you started to feel like you were basically just a mid-life crisis, and you've even got people TELLING you you were just a mid-life crisis, and you just want that again, not with him, of course, (or. . .who are you trying to kid? He's the one you can't get out of your head) but someone, but you're relatively convinced you're going to live out the rest of your days as a spinster, because you can't even get someone you thought was interested in you to actually be interested in you, which is actually ok, because you would, in essence, be using him to get over the person that has wrecked so much havoc on your heart?
You have? Good. Me too.
And that's all I'm going to say about it.
Because really? That's not why I was mad in the first place. I was mad in the first place because I've got this story I'm supposed to be writing, and I'm fairly certain she's going to yank it and put a story about the new Wal-Mart on the front page instead, and I'm not willing to spend all this time and energy, busting my ass to do this awesome story, when I'm just going to end up angry tomorrow. But if it doesn't run Monday, I won't be able to use it to enter into this journalism competition, because everything you enter has to have run by Sept. 30, and we're a 3-times-a-week paper, so the next issue after Sept. 30 would be Oct. 1.
Rejected.
I may not actually enter the contest anyway. The only story I have that I wanted to enter is ok, but probably not award-winning.
Also, I should probably go home to my frigid, heatless apartment.
I swear I'll get my ANTM recaps at least up to the last episode this weekend. Or, I'll do my best.
And I'll be happier next time. Maybe. At trhe very least, I won't subject you to multiple angsty entries.
This isn't livejournal, after all.
Seriously, that's what I'm doing.
"But Sarah," you might say (Yes. My actual name is Sarah. Deal with it. At this point, it would be a relief for someone at work to find this and fire me for something inappropriate I've said. Although, to be fair, I guess I've never actually said where I work. So there's that, at least. There's no proof. Kind of.)
"But Sarah," you would say, after being appalled that I interrupted your interrogation of me. "You don't live in Asheville. It's almost 11:30 p.m. What in the world are you doing that far from home at 11:30 p.m. on a Thursday night, when you have to work a full day tomorrow, starting with an interview ith a douchebag?"
Well, I'll tell you. When I'm angry, I drive. It's not a good habit, as it causes wear and tear on your car, and when you're living in the one part of the country that's freaking out about a "gas shortage" (perpetuated, incidentally, by the media telling everyone there might be a gas shortage and, as a result, causing everyone to rush out and get gas, perpetuating their own drama and crisis. Not that I think people around here are dumb. Even though I do.) I'm aware that I've wasted gas by driving out here with no real purpose except to steal Internet from Holiday Inn (Iz sittin' in your parking lot. Stealin' your Internetz.)
But the way I figure it, it's less self-destructive to drive around, no faster than you usually do, than it is to go drink yourself into a coma. Far less. And it probably costs around the same, truth be told. A night out at a bar and the trip from my house to Asheville is probably about the same.
Or, at least it was, before the Big Gas "Crisis" of 2008.
So why am I angry?
I don't really want to get too into detail, because, as I believe I mentioned at the very beginning of my time blogging here that I didn't want this to turn into my old livejournal, which was angstastic and emolicious. I didn't like that.
However.
Have you ever been so entirely starved for affection and attention that you took someone just being nice to you (which, apparently, you aren't entirely used to) and took it as them being interested in you, and so you, in turn, even though the person totally isn't your type and is a nice enough person, but just not for you, convince yourself that you're interested in because you just so. badly. want someone that's all your own, that you don't have to share, that can make you feel like the last person you were with did, except without all the crap and drama, and then you, through a couple of conversations with the aforementioned person, find out that they "like you as a friend, but not as anything more" (which, upon reflection, sounds so incredibly high school that you want to invite the person to the 5-year reunion your class is having this weekend that you are most assuredly not going to, because you haven't been away from these people long enough to forget why you disliked them in the first place) and you realize, after the conversation, that while your pride and self-esteem are incredibly, incredibly wounded and scarred, the worst thing about it isn't that you were, in essence, flat-out rejected, because you're actually ok with that, because, as you've realized, you weren't ACTUALLY interested in this guy, but that the worst thing is that it's yet someone else who doesn't want you, who you're not good enough for, who reminds you of the you you were in high school, the you you thought you'd left behind in college when you finally found real friends and a niche, which was promptly taken from you when you graduated and moved up to this wretched, wretched job where nothing you do is ever good enough, and you can't get away from the one person who broke your heart, possibly beyond all repair, even though you knew what you were getting into when you got involved and, truth be told, you can't blame him entirely, and you know that, and you hate the fact that he could possibly know how much he has turned your entire world upside down, even though you'd never say it to him, and you're certain he doesn't read your ramblings here and all you really want to do is get him out of your head, and certainly out of your heart, because you know how awful he is for you, but you just remember the beginning, when it was all good, before you started to feel like you were basically just a mid-life crisis, and you've even got people TELLING you you were just a mid-life crisis, and you just want that again, not with him, of course, (or. . .who are you trying to kid? He's the one you can't get out of your head) but someone, but you're relatively convinced you're going to live out the rest of your days as a spinster, because you can't even get someone you thought was interested in you to actually be interested in you, which is actually ok, because you would, in essence, be using him to get over the person that has wrecked so much havoc on your heart?
You have? Good. Me too.
And that's all I'm going to say about it.
Because really? That's not why I was mad in the first place. I was mad in the first place because I've got this story I'm supposed to be writing, and I'm fairly certain she's going to yank it and put a story about the new Wal-Mart on the front page instead, and I'm not willing to spend all this time and energy, busting my ass to do this awesome story, when I'm just going to end up angry tomorrow. But if it doesn't run Monday, I won't be able to use it to enter into this journalism competition, because everything you enter has to have run by Sept. 30, and we're a 3-times-a-week paper, so the next issue after Sept. 30 would be Oct. 1.
Rejected.
I may not actually enter the contest anyway. The only story I have that I wanted to enter is ok, but probably not award-winning.
Also, I should probably go home to my frigid, heatless apartment.
I swear I'll get my ANTM recaps at least up to the last episode this weekend. Or, I'll do my best.
And I'll be happier next time. Maybe. At trhe very least, I won't subject you to multiple angsty entries.
This isn't livejournal, after all.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
So sacrifice yourself, and let me have what's left. I know that I can find the fire in your eyes. I'm going all the way. Get away (please).
You guys?
I'm happy.
It has been so long since I've had an entire day during which I was happy for the entire day. Things didn't bother me, no one pissed me off, and I'm just generally happy to be alive. It's a wonderful, wonderful thing, and I wish that every day could be like this one.
I started out with an interview this morning. The girl I was interviewing had her wish granted from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome which, without getting too technical (since I barely understand it myself) is a disorder that is genetic and causes easy bruising, joint "hypermobility" (meaning the joints are loose), skin that stretches easily and weakness of tissues. It also causes abnormalities in the proteins that help regulate the distribution of collagen in the tissues of the body.
It's all incredibly complicated sounding to me, and I feel like I'm not describing it very well, but I guess you can google or wikipedia it if you want to know the nitty gritty details.
Anyway, her wish was to live the life of a Cover Girl Model, so she was flown to New York, got to all this shopping, had a photo shoot, got makeup and stuff given to her, and has since been contacted to model for other things.
She was a very cool girl. She's probably the second coolest 16-year-old I've ever met. (The first, of course, being my sister.) She was a breeze to interview. She had a lot to say, which is so much better than the people that I interview who just kind of stare at me like I have two heads. She also told me that I was "upbeat and positive," so it was more "fun" to interview with me.
See, that's where having younger people doing the job I do comes in handy. Because I can relate to people like her, since I'm only 7 years older than she is, as opposed to the. . .37 or so years probably between her and Vi, the 18 or so years between her and Kim or even the 14 years between her and Beth.
(I started this entry yesterday (Wednesday) and my Thursday was, toward the end, craptastic, so I'm going to go ahead and end the entry here.)
I'm happy.
It has been so long since I've had an entire day during which I was happy for the entire day. Things didn't bother me, no one pissed me off, and I'm just generally happy to be alive. It's a wonderful, wonderful thing, and I wish that every day could be like this one.
I started out with an interview this morning. The girl I was interviewing had her wish granted from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome which, without getting too technical (since I barely understand it myself) is a disorder that is genetic and causes easy bruising, joint "hypermobility" (meaning the joints are loose), skin that stretches easily and weakness of tissues. It also causes abnormalities in the proteins that help regulate the distribution of collagen in the tissues of the body.
It's all incredibly complicated sounding to me, and I feel like I'm not describing it very well, but I guess you can google or wikipedia it if you want to know the nitty gritty details.
Anyway, her wish was to live the life of a Cover Girl Model, so she was flown to New York, got to all this shopping, had a photo shoot, got makeup and stuff given to her, and has since been contacted to model for other things.
She was a very cool girl. She's probably the second coolest 16-year-old I've ever met. (The first, of course, being my sister.) She was a breeze to interview. She had a lot to say, which is so much better than the people that I interview who just kind of stare at me like I have two heads. She also told me that I was "upbeat and positive," so it was more "fun" to interview with me.
See, that's where having younger people doing the job I do comes in handy. Because I can relate to people like her, since I'm only 7 years older than she is, as opposed to the. . .37 or so years probably between her and Vi, the 18 or so years between her and Kim or even the 14 years between her and Beth.
(I started this entry yesterday (Wednesday) and my Thursday was, toward the end, craptastic, so I'm going to go ahead and end the entry here.)
Monday, September 22, 2008
Making love to a picture frame one more time tonight. You can tell by the lines in her smile something is not right.
I love (LOVE!) fall weather. I walked outside this morning and needed a light jacket, and that just thrilled me to no end. I hate hot weather, so summers in North Carolina have always been dreadful. Kim pointed out, through the window of the conference room, this morning that the leaves are starting to change. So you know what that means.
Photographing!
It'll be a few more weeks before there's any significant change, though, so I'll just wait it out.
The only downside to the fall is that it means that before too, too long, I'm going to have to bust out the space heater, since my apartment is neither heated nor air conditioned. I've had the window in my bathroom perpetually opened for the last couple of months, but I almost froze this morning, so I had to close it. Maybe if I just wear layers around the house, I can avoid plugging in the heater and paying ridiculous electricity bills. Maybe by the time I actually need a lot of heat, I'll have moved to Asheville and will be in a centrally-heated and air conditioned apartment.
(Please?)
So, I have a Professor Friend from my college days that I keep in touch with and who I e-mail sometimes. I know he reads (or, at some time or another, read) my musings here, so he'll be getting this same spiel twice.
I'd e-mailed him telling him about my current situation, how I hate my life in this job, etc. He's been telling me for months now that what I need to do is go back to school, teach, etc. Following is my manifesto of why I will not be going back to school or teaching. I've said it before, but I have several very compelling reasons why that is not an option for me. (Actually, no. I should never say never. These are my reasons why I will not do this RIGHT NOW.)
#1. I don't want to teach
I think that's a pretty good reason in and of itself. Yes, I did, at one point, want to teach. The reason I have this (fairly useless) English degree is because I had a roommate my sophomore year of college (around that time when you're supposed to be choosing a major) that was in the Teaching Fellows program, and she suggested it. I'd recently decided to drop the Broadcasting and Cinema major (dropped because I found that in order to get the the concentration I really wanted [Media Writing], I'd have to take all these classes on lighting and sound and all that broadcasting stuff, and I just really didn't care for it.) and I needed something else. So I decided that being an English teacher made sense, for some reason. I also had a brief "I want to teach!" moment right after graduation, but that, I think, was due to people telling me for years I should do it and being unable to find a full-time job.
There are several reasons why that didn't stick, and why I ended up as a plain old English major. My college didn't even have any interesting concentrations within the English major. You know, journalism, creative writing, literature, etc.? If you were an English major, you were either going to teach or you studied literature. Which I did. Had there been a writing concentration, I would have opted for that, but as it stood, the only writing concentration was within the B&C major, and I've already been through that.
I know you should never choose a profession just for the money (obviously I didn't), but I know that teachers make not-so-good money for a lot of work. I'm doing that now, and maybe it's because the newspaper industry isn't my Dream Vocation, but I really can't see doing that. Getting paid not much for a lot of work. It's not like I've been dreaming my whole life of teaching. Maybe if I had, it would be a different story. But the only thing I've been dreaming of being my entire life is someone who is so important, they require their own assistant. You can definitely tell the teachers who want to be teaching and the ones who are doing it because they have to. Which brings me to my next point. . .
#2. I do not want to teach college kids
I was, in the very recent past, a college student, so I know how they are. Some of them are truly there because they want to learn, because they want to have a particular career, etc. Some of them (like me) are there because they don't think they're going to be able
to get a job if they don't have a degree or they just don't know what else to do. And then some of them are there for the sole reason of partying and spending their parents' money. I know for a fact that many, many college freshmen fit into the second and third categories, and I also know that, as a grad student, those would be the ones I would be teaching. The freshman-level classes. I have no interest whatsoever in standing up in front of a bunch of idiots (because, really, that's what freshmen are. I don't care who you are; as a freshman, you're an idiot.) who are only there because they're fulfilling a General Education requirement. That, I feel, would be spirit-killing. I already have a jo
b that does that, and I don't have to pay for it. Which brings me to point number 3. . .
#3. I'm in enough debt as it is
Grad school costs money. I don't care how much financial aid you can get. . .eventually, you're going to have to pay it off. I am currently up to my ears and the ears of several other really tall people in college debt. College, where I didn't actually want to go in the first place (the aforementioned not knowing what I wanted to do). I'm going to be paying for this for probably the rest of my life, and, due to mistaking bills for notices, my credit score has suffered as a result. Truly, I don't want to add thousands and thousands more dollars to my already substantial debt.
And, finally, #4
#4. I didn't like school
If I have to be honest, I'd have to say that I stopped liking school around my freshman year of high school. I just didn't like it. I didn't like going, and I didn't like learning (or "learning") things that would, no matter what they told you, have absolutely no bearing on the rest of your life. Chemistry? No. AP Statistics? No. AP Environmental Science? No. English, I always liked, because I'm an English-liking person. Band was cool up until my senior year when I figured out that it wasn't talent, but politics that ruled there. French? I was an epic failure at French, even though I love, love, LOVE the language and desperately wish I could speak it. And that was just high school.
Once I got to college, there were those damn General Education requirements you HAD to fulfill. Basically, you had to take classes from certain categories that those in command decided you had to be adept in to make you a more well-rounded person. Sure, there were electives, but those were few and far between. And then there were the major requirements. I'm still trying to figure out why, as an English major, I was required to take British Authors: Medieval to Neoclassical.
WHY is this required? All I want to do it write, man. I don't want to read poetry and analyze things. It all seems really pointless to me. I remember one requirement was ENG 303. . .something about literary criticism. WHY? All I know is that analyzing literature is maybe one of my least favorite school-related things to do EVER, and I had to take an entire class on it. Do I remember anything from that class? No, I do not. I remember how hard it was and how impossible the textbook was to understand. Why is this required of me as an English major? I have no idea. I think they assume that everyone in the English major, whether they know it or not, is going to teach, so they make you learn how to torture other people (your students) making them analyze what Fitzgerald meant by the green light at the end of the dock or why Scout was dressed as a ham. (It was a ham, wasn't it?)
Maybe Fitzgerald just really liked the color green and Lee was Jewish and not allowed to have ham, thus developing a fixation on it. I really don't know. But I don't see why it should matter.
Point being, I don't want to go back to school because it would most certainly require that I take a bunch of classes that I will find useless and pointless and uninteresting. Would I like to take some classes as a nearby college? Absolutely. I'd love to take some photography classes or writing classes, or maybe even a painting class. But do I want an entire, strict curriculum, telling me what I absolutely have to study in order to succeed as a (fill in the blank with a job title here)? No. No, I don't.
So there you have four very compelling reasons why, despite being stuck in a job I dislike, I will not be quitting in order to go back to school. I'm not going to put myself through that when, truly, I have no drive for it. I'm driven to succeed, and I want to make something of myself, but I don't know what that something is yet, and I don't want to force myself back into academia just to find that I've wasted time, money, and sanity on it.
Photographing!
It'll be a few more weeks before there's any significant change, though, so I'll just wait it out.
The only downside to the fall is that it means that before too, too long, I'm going to have to bust out the space heater, since my apartment is neither heated nor air conditioned. I've had the window in my bathroom perpetually opened for the last couple of months, but I almost froze this morning, so I had to close it. Maybe if I just wear layers around the house, I can avoid plugging in the heater and paying ridiculous electricity bills. Maybe by the time I actually need a lot of heat, I'll have moved to Asheville and will be in a centrally-heated and air conditioned apartment.
(Please?)
So, I have a Professor Friend from my college days that I keep in touch with and who I e-mail sometimes. I know he reads (or, at some time or another, read) my musings here, so he'll be getting this same spiel twice.
I'd e-mailed him telling him about my current situation, how I hate my life in this job, etc. He's been telling me for months now that what I need to do is go back to school, teach, etc. Following is my manifesto of why I will not be going back to school or teaching. I've said it before, but I have several very compelling reasons why that is not an option for me. (Actually, no. I should never say never. These are my reasons why I will not do this RIGHT NOW.)
#1. I don't want to teach
I think that's a pretty good reason in and of itself. Yes, I did, at one point, want to teach. The reason I have this (fairly useless) English degree is because I had a roommate my sophomore year of college (around that time when you're supposed to be choosing a major) that was in the Teaching Fellows program, and she suggested it. I'd recently decided to drop the Broadcasting and Cinema major (dropped because I found that in order to get the the concentration I really wanted [Media Writing], I'd have to take all these classes on lighting and sound and all that broadcasting stuff, and I just really didn't care for it.) and I needed something else. So I decided that being an English teacher made sense, for some reason. I also had a brief "I want to teach!" moment right after graduation, but that, I think, was due to people telling me for years I should do it and being unable to find a full-time job.
There are several reasons why that didn't stick, and why I ended up as a plain old English major. My college didn't even have any interesting concentrations within the English major. You know, journalism, creative writing, literature, etc.? If you were an English major, you were either going to teach or you studied literature. Which I did. Had there been a writing concentration, I would have opted for that, but as it stood, the only writing concentration was within the B&C major, and I've already been through that.
I know you should never choose a profession just for the money (obviously I didn't), but I know that teachers make not-so-good money for a lot of work. I'm doing that now, and maybe it's because the newspaper industry isn't my Dream Vocation, but I really can't see doing that. Getting paid not much for a lot of work. It's not like I've been dreaming my whole life of teaching. Maybe if I had, it would be a different story. But the only thing I've been dreaming of being my entire life is someone who is so important, they require their own assistant. You can definitely tell the teachers who want to be teaching and the ones who are doing it because they have to. Which brings me to my next point. . .
#2. I do not want to teach college kids
I was, in the very recent past, a college student, so I know how they are. Some of them are truly there because they want to learn, because they want to have a particular career, etc. Some of them (like me) are there because they don't think they're going to be able
to get a job if they don't have a degree or they just don't know what else to do. And then some of them are there for the sole reason of partying and spending their parents' money. I know for a fact that many, many college freshmen fit into the second and third categories, and I also know that, as a grad student, those would be the ones I would be teaching. The freshman-level classes. I have no interest whatsoever in standing up in front of a bunch of idiots (because, really, that's what freshmen are. I don't care who you are; as a freshman, you're an idiot.) who are only there because they're fulfilling a General Education requirement. That, I feel, would be spirit-killing. I already have a jo
b that does that, and I don't have to pay for it. Which brings me to point number 3. . .#3. I'm in enough debt as it is
Grad school costs money. I don't care how much financial aid you can get. . .eventually, you're going to have to pay it off. I am currently up to my ears and the ears of several other really tall people in college debt. College, where I didn't actually want to go in the first place (the aforementioned not knowing what I wanted to do). I'm going to be paying for this for probably the rest of my life, and, due to mistaking bills for notices, my credit score has suffered as a result. Truly, I don't want to add thousands and thousands more dollars to my already substantial debt.
And, finally, #4
#4. I didn't like school
If I have to be honest, I'd have to say that I stopped liking school around my freshman year of high school. I just didn't like it. I didn't like going, and I didn't like learning (or "learning") things that would, no matter what they told you, have absolutely no bearing on the rest of your life. Chemistry? No. AP Statistics? No. AP Environmental Science? No. English, I always liked, because I'm an English-liking person. Band was cool up until my senior year when I figured out that it wasn't talent, but politics that ruled there. French? I was an epic failure at French, even though I love, love, LOVE the language and desperately wish I could speak it. And that was just high school.
Once I got to college, there were those damn General Education requirements you HAD to fulfill. Basically, you had to take classes from certain categories that those in command decided you had to be adept in to make you a more well-rounded person. Sure, there were electives, but those were few and far between. And then there were the major requirements. I'm still trying to figure out why, as an English major, I was required to take British Authors: Medieval to Neoclassical.
WHY is this required? All I want to do it write, man. I don't want to read poetry and analyze things. It all seems really pointless to me. I remember one requirement was ENG 303. . .something about literary criticism. WHY? All I know is that analyzing literature is maybe one of my least favorite school-related things to do EVER, and I had to take an entire class on it. Do I remember anything from that class? No, I do not. I remember how hard it was and how impossible the textbook was to understand. Why is this required of me as an English major? I have no idea. I think they assume that everyone in the English major, whether they know it or not, is going to teach, so they make you learn how to torture other people (your students) making them analyze what Fitzgerald meant by the green light at the end of the dock or why Scout was dressed as a ham. (It was a ham, wasn't it?)
Maybe Fitzgerald just really liked the color green and Lee was Jewish and not allowed to have ham, thus developing a fixation on it. I really don't know. But I don't see why it should matter.
Point being, I don't want to go back to school because it would most certainly require that I take a bunch of classes that I will find useless and pointless and uninteresting. Would I like to take some classes as a nearby college? Absolutely. I'd love to take some photography classes or writing classes, or maybe even a painting class. But do I want an entire, strict curriculum, telling me what I absolutely have to study in order to succeed as a (fill in the blank with a job title here)? No. No, I don't.
So there you have four very compelling reasons why, despite being stuck in a job I dislike, I will not be quitting in order to go back to school. I'm not going to put myself through that when, truly, I have no drive for it. I'm driven to succeed, and I want to make something of myself, but I don't know what that something is yet, and I don't want to force myself back into academia just to find that I've wasted time, money, and sanity on it.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it. So say, what are you waiting for?
(The date on this says I published it Friday. This is false. Today is Sunday, Sept. 21.)
I apologize profusely for the lack of action this blog has seen in the last week or
so. I also apologize with profusion for the fact that I have not yet put up ANTM from two weeks ago. What you have to understand is that my job wears me down so completely, by the time I get home at night, I WANT to write and I WANT to recap, but the soul has been sucked out of me so completely, I usually end up just doing not a whole lot of anything. I talk to people on AIM and I sometimes go over to Carrie's and I play a lot of Snood. If you have never played Snood, I recommend that you do not start if you don't want to be sucked in completely and utterly. It's a game that you start playing and think, ok, I'll play two rounds. Six hours later, you're still sitting there, aiming to beat your high score, and wondering why you're so hungry. Seriously. Don't do it.
So freakishly much has happened since I last posted my thoughts on life, love, and everything in between. I'll try to remember it all, but it's entirely possible that something will be left out. I think you'll be ok with it, though, because if you don't know what's been happening, you also won't know that I didn't mention it.
Let's see. I had this whole grand scheme to get the hell out of this job. I was going to wait until the beginning of October, give my notice, and move back to Raleigh at the beginning of November. I had everything planned out, right down to which day was going to be my last day (the 30th. My birthday. Happy Birthday to me!!) I was going to go back to the temp agency and maybe live with my father until something else came up.
But then. . .I don't know. I started to really resent the fact that I was going to be moving away from a
place I really, really love just because of a crap job. (Well, a crap job and the fact that I need to move to a different apartment so I won't be living so close to the one person in the county that would probably take a hit out on me if she could, but that's another story entirely and neither here nor there. It's 99% the job, 1% the woman who hates me.) So I started thinking, ok, I'll just look for another job in the county. There's a martini bar opening not too far from where I work now, and I was going to apply for a part-time job there (since my job, aside from being soul-sucking and self-esteem killing, pays crap pay), and I thought, well, I could probably work there full-time if I had to. But then I thought, really, how much would you make working in a martini bar? Not much, I would imagine. Cool as it may be, I do have rent and 9,000 other bills to pay. So that was kind of out.
The decision that I came to, I actually reached Friday when I went to Asheville to visit Carol. Now. . .Carol is most definitely in my Top 5 Favorite People. (Don't ask me who the other 4 are, because that would be incredibly awkward if you weren't on that list. Anyone who asks, I'm going to tell them that they are. And I don't like lying, so don't put me in that position.) She's just really cool, and I was sad when she left the paper. She, incidentally, got a job at a place I had applied back in February. She tells me that the person who got the job for which I applied was actually a friend of someone in that department. Bitch.
Anyway, Carol and I went into downtown, and there's just such an energy there. The town in which I live seems to have an inordinate number of old people and couples. It's a settling town, really. Asheville is. . .I have to live there. That's all there is to it. And so now all of my energies are focused into finding a job in Asheville or a job close enough to Asheville to allow me to live there and commute. I'm making it my goal to be there within the next 6 months. Now that means that if I have to wait until the end of that 6 months, I will have been at this job for about a year and a half, and that thought makes me die a little on the inside, but I guess you have to do what you have to do. I even remember telling Carrie months ago that the next time I moved, it would be to Asheville. And now it's time to make that happen.
So work. A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks (A LOT), and I'm trying to get the stuff down that is of note.
First of all, a while ago, Vi sat me down, told me my work proficiency was down, and asked if I wasn't happy there. I told her straight up, no, I'm not. I didn't go so far as to say I hate it there and, on a regular basis, it's a struggle getting out of bed, knowing what I'm going to have to go into, but that feeling is there as well. So she gave me this whole big spiel about, well, if I don't have people here who are happy to work here, I'll just get new people to work here.
I should note here that Carol left. . .3 months ago? And the person who has been hired to fill her position will be starting Monday. Vi has technically hired two other people to take that position, but both of them have backed out last minute. All I'm saying here is that if they fired everyone who bitched about their job on a continual basis, that would be. . .two out of two reporters, maybe the photographer, me, and Carrie. So that's. . .at least 4 people, maybe 5. If it took them 3 months to fill one position, I'd love to see them fill 5.
Vi seems to think that with the newspaper industry being in as much trouble, financially, as it is, and so many people being laid off from the industry, people should be jumping at the jobs the paper is offering. However, my question would be, why would you jump to get a job in an industry from which you'd just been let go? Especially considering how poorly paid we all are. (If you're interested, managers at Wal-Mart make more money than I do. I'm just sayin'.) The fact of the matter is, though, the paper offers crap pay. and they're expecting someone with experience. Personally, if I had X-number of years of experience, I would look for somewhere that offered. . .more pay that I'm making now. Why would I want to take a step backward? (Answer: I wouldn't.)
Cut to Friday. It was about five after 9, and I was, truth be told, still in bed, trying to talk myself into going into work, so I could get everything finished, so I didn't have to go in over the weekend. (Which, incidentally, I didn't have to do, and it was amazing. It's funny how much happier I am when I'm not at work. This was like the best weekend ever. Seriously.) So the phone rings, and I see it's Vi, and I. . .said a few words that weren't very lady-like, but I still answered the phone, because I thought there was a small chance she'd tell me that there was toxic gas poisoning in the building and I wouldn't have to go in that day. (Which would have actually negated my whole plan of not going in over the weekend, but give me a break. I was grasping at straws.) She was calling to make sure I was going to be there at 9:30, because the general manager was going to hold a meeting. "Great," thinks I. I had a sense of impending doom and dread. I did, however, take a really fast shower and get to work ASAP.
We're all sitting around the newsroom, waiting for GM to come in, all wondering exactly what it is he's going to say. He comes in and starts giving us this big spiel about how, the industry being the way it is, we have to make some cuts, make some changes. . .and they're firing McHotpants.
Don't worry, I found out later that he'd been told the day before, so it's not like he was finding this out at the meeting, but we were all just kind of like, ". . . . ."
THEN, abut 15 minutes after the meeting ended, I find out that Allison has quit. Just up and quit. The theory is that she quit before she was fired, but still. Yes, this does mean that I no longer will have to share my birthday with anyone, since we have the same birthday, but I liked Allison.
Within 30 minutes of people finding out she'd quit, they had everything taken off of her desk and off of the walls in her office and boxed up. Within three hours, her computer was downstairs.
Now, I'm not going to lie. . .I stole her desk chair. But really, the other woman who uses that office only works part-time, and she's downstairs most of the time she's there, so I don't think anyone's going to begrudge me a comfy desk chair. I really wanted Allison's office, but I know that Vi wants someone out there to look like a receptionist and greet creepy folks when they come upstairs. And to have Letters to the Editor thrown at their faces.
So what else?
Oh
, I have to share a new thing I love. It's a kind of apple juice, brand name being Simply Apple. They also have Simply Orange, Simply Lime, and Simply Grapefruit. However, Simply Apple is what I imagine they serve to kings and heads of state during breakfast. I know a lot of people aren't too fond of apple juice because it sometimes has kind of a bitter taste to it or whatever, but there is nothing bitter about this stuff at all. It's like Cinderella and her bitter step-sisters. It's a little more expensive, but you really do get what you pay for. Ingles usually sells it for 3 bucks a bottle. And the Ingles near my house is ALWAYS out. I had to go one town over today to get some. But if you've never tried, you need to. It will change your life, guaranteed. Plus, the bottle is kind of awesome.
I went to a new church today. I'd been there a couple weeks ago, writing a story about the many missions and outreach programs they do, and it seemed like the kind of place I wouldn't mind sitting in while being told I was going to hell, so I decided to give it a shot. I told Carrie I was going, and she offered to come with me.
Now. . .if you know me, you're fully aware of my feelings toward church in general. But the pastor gave this sermon today about aging (which was really more relevant to the old people in the service. . .apparently, of the three services the church offers, we went to the "traditional" one today. There are three services, and the third one is the one with all the pomp and circumstance. They also hold a "people in their 20s and 30s Sunday school class" at 11, so next week, I think I'll try a "contemporary" service and then go to the Sunday school. Because, if nothing else, while I'm trying to figure out where I stand on all things religious, I may as well meet people my own age, you know? I really did like it, though. And they have a lot going on there, which I think is a good sign for a church. Especially a church that had 1,003 people in attendance last week. It's a huge church.
I know what you're all thinking. "Liz, it's been ages since you said anything interesting about the men in your life. What gives?"
Well, dear readers, I do have an update of. . .sorts on my lacking love life. It's not so much an update as a "So you know," but I'll share regardless.
So there's this boy. I've known him for. . .a few months now, I guess, and my view of him is ever so slightly complicated. See, when I met him, I was waist-deep in the floods of. . .ok, I have to cut myself off here and tell this story. I was looking for something clever to call my Ex, without actually referring to him by name, because I don't want to be, you know, sued for libel or slander or something. So I Googled and subsequently Wikipediaed his name, trying to look for a clever derivative of his name, and I found that his name is the name of a town or city in the following states: Georgia, Kansas, Kentucky, Massachusetts, Mississippi, New Jersey, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Oregon, South Dakota, Texas, Utah, South Dakota, West Virginia, Washington, and India. He was also a hurricane. So now I have several things from which to choose a name, and this is truly how my mind works, people, and how I get off subject so easily. Because right now, I want to go Google my first name and see if I have any towns or cities with my name. . .
. . .and I do not. Sad.
ANYway. When I first met this guy, I was madly in the throes of. . .whatever with my yet-to-be-named ex, and while I noticed him, I didn't really think anything of it, seeing as to how I had a "relationship" of my own at that point and wasn't looking beyond that.
Ok, I have to cut myself off again, because I made this observation earlier today. Last time I was in a "relationship," I was in it full-force. It was a "lose yourself" kind of relationship, and I find that there were a lot of things I was willing to sacrifice and postpone and put up with just so I could stay with him. This, ladies and gentlemen, is not a good idea. Ever. Don't ever lose yourself for someone else, because once it ends (which, usually, it will if you're my age or have the proclivity to get involved in relationships that are dysfunctional. Or both.) you don't know what to do yourself. You throw yourself into angry music like Breaking Benjamin's "Breath" and Pink's "So What" and look deep within yourself, wondering what you could have possibly done to make it work. And you feel like you'll never move past it.
But you know what? You will. Just don't lose yourself. If I had any advice to give in regards to relationships, that'd be it. Don't sacrifice what you want and what you need and what you feel you deserve just because they're on a different path than you. It's just never a good idea.
Back to The Boy.
So I'd noticed him, but hadn't thought much of it. Looking back, I realize now that he caught my attention the first time I met him because he was so jazzed about everything, and it's kind of cute. Every time he'd see me, he'd say, "Hi, Liz!" (I still can't get used to referring to myself in the third person by a different name. Maybe I should go back to my real name. But then I'd have to rename the entire blog. Bah.) And I LOVE that he addresses me by name when he says hi to me.
It's the exact opposite of what might be my biggest pet peeve ever. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but if I'm fighting with someone, and they say my name in the middle of an angry sentence (For example, "What I'm saying, Elizabeth, is that you shouldn't have kicked me in the teeth.") it makes my blood boil. I don't know why, but that's just how it is. Several people know about this, and I can tell my real friends by the fact that, if they know I hate it, they don't do it, even if they're fighting with me. After I told my ex how much that bothered me, it felt like he'd do it every time we fought.
Anyway, The Boy does the opposite of that, and I find it incredibly endearing.
So more and more over the last couple of months, I find myself, despite the fact that it's my worst day, work-wise, kind of looking forward to Tuesdays, because that's the day of the week I see him. He always talks to me, and he seems like there's the potential that he could possibly be interested at some point in time. I don't really know, because I'm HORRIBLE at telling when people are interested, but it's a possibility.
He's shorter than me, and I always swore that I'd never date someone shorter than me (not that we're talking about dating, or even ever going out, but I think about things way too deeply and way too far in advance) but as a woman who's 5'9, not dating people my height or shorter is cutting out a great deal of the population. I'm an Amazon, basically. An Amazon that, unfortunately, loves high heels.
So I'll give updates on that as they come.
This has been an insanely long entry, so I'll save Nick's European Adventure, more ANTM, and my thrift store finds.
Oh, on the last mix CD Nick made me, he included this song, which I had never heard ("So What?" by Pink) and I LOVE it. I talked to him about it yesterday and he said that the lyrics sounded like me, and it's kind of true. I can't even tell you how many miles I've driven around the county blasting this song and feeling badass. I've put the video here, if you're interested:
I apologize profusely for the lack of action this blog has seen in the last week or
so. I also apologize with profusion for the fact that I have not yet put up ANTM from two weeks ago. What you have to understand is that my job wears me down so completely, by the time I get home at night, I WANT to write and I WANT to recap, but the soul has been sucked out of me so completely, I usually end up just doing not a whole lot of anything. I talk to people on AIM and I sometimes go over to Carrie's and I play a lot of Snood. If you have never played Snood, I recommend that you do not start if you don't want to be sucked in completely and utterly. It's a game that you start playing and think, ok, I'll play two rounds. Six hours later, you're still sitting there, aiming to beat your high score, and wondering why you're so hungry. Seriously. Don't do it.So freakishly much has happened since I last posted my thoughts on life, love, and everything in between. I'll try to remember it all, but it's entirely possible that something will be left out. I think you'll be ok with it, though, because if you don't know what's been happening, you also won't know that I didn't mention it.
Let's see. I had this whole grand scheme to get the hell out of this job. I was going to wait until the beginning of October, give my notice, and move back to Raleigh at the beginning of November. I had everything planned out, right down to which day was going to be my last day (the 30th. My birthday. Happy Birthday to me!!) I was going to go back to the temp agency and maybe live with my father until something else came up.
But then. . .I don't know. I started to really resent the fact that I was going to be moving away from a
place I really, really love just because of a crap job. (Well, a crap job and the fact that I need to move to a different apartment so I won't be living so close to the one person in the county that would probably take a hit out on me if she could, but that's another story entirely and neither here nor there. It's 99% the job, 1% the woman who hates me.) So I started thinking, ok, I'll just look for another job in the county. There's a martini bar opening not too far from where I work now, and I was going to apply for a part-time job there (since my job, aside from being soul-sucking and self-esteem killing, pays crap pay), and I thought, well, I could probably work there full-time if I had to. But then I thought, really, how much would you make working in a martini bar? Not much, I would imagine. Cool as it may be, I do have rent and 9,000 other bills to pay. So that was kind of out.The decision that I came to, I actually reached Friday when I went to Asheville to visit Carol. Now. . .Carol is most definitely in my Top 5 Favorite People. (Don't ask me who the other 4 are, because that would be incredibly awkward if you weren't on that list. Anyone who asks, I'm going to tell them that they are. And I don't like lying, so don't put me in that position.) She's just really cool, and I was sad when she left the paper. She, incidentally, got a job at a place I had applied back in February. She tells me that the person who got the job for which I applied was actually a friend of someone in that department. Bitch.
Anyway, Carol and I went into downtown, and there's just such an energy there. The town in which I live seems to have an inordinate number of old people and couples. It's a settling town, really. Asheville is. . .I have to live there. That's all there is to it. And so now all of my energies are focused into finding a job in Asheville or a job close enough to Asheville to allow me to live there and commute. I'm making it my goal to be there within the next 6 months. Now that means that if I have to wait until the end of that 6 months, I will have been at this job for about a year and a half, and that thought makes me die a little on the inside, but I guess you have to do what you have to do. I even remember telling Carrie months ago that the next time I moved, it would be to Asheville. And now it's time to make that happen.
So work. A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks (A LOT), and I'm trying to get the stuff down that is of note.
First of all, a while ago, Vi sat me down, told me my work proficiency was down, and asked if I wasn't happy there. I told her straight up, no, I'm not. I didn't go so far as to say I hate it there and, on a regular basis, it's a struggle getting out of bed, knowing what I'm going to have to go into, but that feeling is there as well. So she gave me this whole big spiel about, well, if I don't have people here who are happy to work here, I'll just get new people to work here.
I should note here that Carol left. . .3 months ago? And the person who has been hired to fill her position will be starting Monday. Vi has technically hired two other people to take that position, but both of them have backed out last minute. All I'm saying here is that if they fired everyone who bitched about their job on a continual basis, that would be. . .two out of two reporters, maybe the photographer, me, and Carrie. So that's. . .at least 4 people, maybe 5. If it took them 3 months to fill one position, I'd love to see them fill 5.
Vi seems to think that with the newspaper industry being in as much trouble, financially, as it is, and so many people being laid off from the industry, people should be jumping at the jobs the paper is offering. However, my question would be, why would you jump to get a job in an industry from which you'd just been let go? Especially considering how poorly paid we all are. (If you're interested, managers at Wal-Mart make more money than I do. I'm just sayin'.) The fact of the matter is, though, the paper offers crap pay. and they're expecting someone with experience. Personally, if I had X-number of years of experience, I would look for somewhere that offered. . .more pay that I'm making now. Why would I want to take a step backward? (Answer: I wouldn't.)
Cut to Friday. It was about five after 9, and I was, truth be told, still in bed, trying to talk myself into going into work, so I could get everything finished, so I didn't have to go in over the weekend. (Which, incidentally, I didn't have to do, and it was amazing. It's funny how much happier I am when I'm not at work. This was like the best weekend ever. Seriously.) So the phone rings, and I see it's Vi, and I. . .said a few words that weren't very lady-like, but I still answered the phone, because I thought there was a small chance she'd tell me that there was toxic gas poisoning in the building and I wouldn't have to go in that day. (Which would have actually negated my whole plan of not going in over the weekend, but give me a break. I was grasping at straws.) She was calling to make sure I was going to be there at 9:30, because the general manager was going to hold a meeting. "Great," thinks I. I had a sense of impending doom and dread. I did, however, take a really fast shower and get to work ASAP.
We're all sitting around the newsroom, waiting for GM to come in, all wondering exactly what it is he's going to say. He comes in and starts giving us this big spiel about how, the industry being the way it is, we have to make some cuts, make some changes. . .and they're firing McHotpants.
Don't worry, I found out later that he'd been told the day before, so it's not like he was finding this out at the meeting, but we were all just kind of like, ". . . . ."
THEN, abut 15 minutes after the meeting ended, I find out that Allison has quit. Just up and quit. The theory is that she quit before she was fired, but still. Yes, this does mean that I no longer will have to share my birthday with anyone, since we have the same birthday, but I liked Allison.
Within 30 minutes of people finding out she'd quit, they had everything taken off of her desk and off of the walls in her office and boxed up. Within three hours, her computer was downstairs.
Now, I'm not going to lie. . .I stole her desk chair. But really, the other woman who uses that office only works part-time, and she's downstairs most of the time she's there, so I don't think anyone's going to begrudge me a comfy desk chair. I really wanted Allison's office, but I know that Vi wants someone out there to look like a receptionist and greet creepy folks when they come upstairs. And to have Letters to the Editor thrown at their faces.
So what else?
Oh
, I have to share a new thing I love. It's a kind of apple juice, brand name being Simply Apple. They also have Simply Orange, Simply Lime, and Simply Grapefruit. However, Simply Apple is what I imagine they serve to kings and heads of state during breakfast. I know a lot of people aren't too fond of apple juice because it sometimes has kind of a bitter taste to it or whatever, but there is nothing bitter about this stuff at all. It's like Cinderella and her bitter step-sisters. It's a little more expensive, but you really do get what you pay for. Ingles usually sells it for 3 bucks a bottle. And the Ingles near my house is ALWAYS out. I had to go one town over today to get some. But if you've never tried, you need to. It will change your life, guaranteed. Plus, the bottle is kind of awesome.I went to a new church today. I'd been there a couple weeks ago, writing a story about the many missions and outreach programs they do, and it seemed like the kind of place I wouldn't mind sitting in while being told I was going to hell, so I decided to give it a shot. I told Carrie I was going, and she offered to come with me.
Now. . .if you know me, you're fully aware of my feelings toward church in general. But the pastor gave this sermon today about aging (which was really more relevant to the old people in the service. . .apparently, of the three services the church offers, we went to the "traditional" one today. There are three services, and the third one is the one with all the pomp and circumstance. They also hold a "people in their 20s and 30s Sunday school class" at 11, so next week, I think I'll try a "contemporary" service and then go to the Sunday school. Because, if nothing else, while I'm trying to figure out where I stand on all things religious, I may as well meet people my own age, you know? I really did like it, though. And they have a lot going on there, which I think is a good sign for a church. Especially a church that had 1,003 people in attendance last week. It's a huge church.
I know what you're all thinking. "Liz, it's been ages since you said anything interesting about the men in your life. What gives?"
Well, dear readers, I do have an update of. . .sorts on my lacking love life. It's not so much an update as a "So you know," but I'll share regardless.
So there's this boy. I've known him for. . .a few months now, I guess, and my view of him is ever so slightly complicated. See, when I met him, I was waist-deep in the floods of. . .ok, I have to cut myself off here and tell this story. I was looking for something clever to call my Ex, without actually referring to him by name, because I don't want to be, you know, sued for libel or slander or something. So I Googled and subsequently Wikipediaed his name, trying to look for a clever derivative of his name, and I found that his name is the name of a town or city in the following states: Georgia, Kansas, Kentucky, Massachusetts, Mississippi, New Jersey, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Oregon, South Dakota, Texas, Utah, South Dakota, West Virginia, Washington, and India. He was also a hurricane. So now I have several things from which to choose a name, and this is truly how my mind works, people, and how I get off subject so easily. Because right now, I want to go Google my first name and see if I have any towns or cities with my name. . .
. . .and I do not. Sad.
ANYway. When I first met this guy, I was madly in the throes of. . .whatever with my yet-to-be-named ex, and while I noticed him, I didn't really think anything of it, seeing as to how I had a "relationship" of my own at that point and wasn't looking beyond that.
Ok, I have to cut myself off again, because I made this observation earlier today. Last time I was in a "relationship," I was in it full-force. It was a "lose yourself" kind of relationship, and I find that there were a lot of things I was willing to sacrifice and postpone and put up with just so I could stay with him. This, ladies and gentlemen, is not a good idea. Ever. Don't ever lose yourself for someone else, because once it ends (which, usually, it will if you're my age or have the proclivity to get involved in relationships that are dysfunctional. Or both.) you don't know what to do yourself. You throw yourself into angry music like Breaking Benjamin's "Breath" and Pink's "So What" and look deep within yourself, wondering what you could have possibly done to make it work. And you feel like you'll never move past it.
But you know what? You will. Just don't lose yourself. If I had any advice to give in regards to relationships, that'd be it. Don't sacrifice what you want and what you need and what you feel you deserve just because they're on a different path than you. It's just never a good idea.
Back to The Boy.
So I'd noticed him, but hadn't thought much of it. Looking back, I realize now that he caught my attention the first time I met him because he was so jazzed about everything, and it's kind of cute. Every time he'd see me, he'd say, "Hi, Liz!" (I still can't get used to referring to myself in the third person by a different name. Maybe I should go back to my real name. But then I'd have to rename the entire blog. Bah.) And I LOVE that he addresses me by name when he says hi to me.
It's the exact opposite of what might be my biggest pet peeve ever. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but if I'm fighting with someone, and they say my name in the middle of an angry sentence (For example, "What I'm saying, Elizabeth, is that you shouldn't have kicked me in the teeth.") it makes my blood boil. I don't know why, but that's just how it is. Several people know about this, and I can tell my real friends by the fact that, if they know I hate it, they don't do it, even if they're fighting with me. After I told my ex how much that bothered me, it felt like he'd do it every time we fought.
Anyway, The Boy does the opposite of that, and I find it incredibly endearing.
So more and more over the last couple of months, I find myself, despite the fact that it's my worst day, work-wise, kind of looking forward to Tuesdays, because that's the day of the week I see him. He always talks to me, and he seems like there's the potential that he could possibly be interested at some point in time. I don't really know, because I'm HORRIBLE at telling when people are interested, but it's a possibility.
He's shorter than me, and I always swore that I'd never date someone shorter than me (not that we're talking about dating, or even ever going out, but I think about things way too deeply and way too far in advance) but as a woman who's 5'9, not dating people my height or shorter is cutting out a great deal of the population. I'm an Amazon, basically. An Amazon that, unfortunately, loves high heels.
So I'll give updates on that as they come.
This has been an insanely long entry, so I'll save Nick's European Adventure, more ANTM, and my thrift store finds.
Oh, on the last mix CD Nick made me, he included this song, which I had never heard ("So What?" by Pink) and I LOVE it. I talked to him about it yesterday and he said that the lyrics sounded like me, and it's kind of true. I can't even tell you how many miles I've driven around the county blasting this song and feeling badass. I've put the video here, if you're interested:
Sunday, September 14, 2008
'Cause now I see you are not what you seem. You are a mystery to me; sometimes I just want to scream.
Back home, waiting for the sleep drugs to kick in.
I'm going to put up a couple of fair pictures. I've been a little concerned that my photography skills have been on a fast, downward slope. I feel like maybe it's because I've been so generally down. I remember the weekend Trooper Blanton was killed, I had to go shoot pictures at a wedding I was covering, and that was some of the worst photographing I've ever done. I wasn't in the headspace, you know?
But here recently, I've had a lot of trouble taking decent photographs. I'm not entirely sure what it could be, other than the fact that I'm just kind of unhappy.
I don't know. Now that I'm looking at these, I'm not really pleased with them, either. I'm also failing at writing. I wrote an article for tomorrow's paper today that was. . .kind of bad. Basically what's happening here is that I'm no longer good at anything at which I used to excel, and that's unfortunate.
On the bright side, though, Nick sent me a link to a YouTube video of Saturday Night Live's premiere beginning, and it was awesome. Michael Phelps (my ex-husband) was the host and the sketch at the very beginning was kind of awesome. Tina Fey came back to play Sarah Palin, awesomely, and during the beginning monologue, William Shatner randomly showed up. I know. Best thing ever. Kind of made my night.
I'll write my ANTM recap tomorrow, so as to have it up before the next episode airs Wednesday. I really had no idea how much time and effort these recaps took. They're fun, though, so I'll be pressing on.
I'll be your best-kept secret and your biggest mistake.
I feel that I've had so many ANTM recaps here recently that I need to make a real entry before I post the newest one.
I have time to begin this entry while my crappy work computer restarts. You know your computer is old and crappy when you try to put a picture on the page and it says "out of memory." One would think that a media outlet would have better technology, so they can persist in getting the important, breaking news without having to restart their computer 150 times a day.
One would be wrong.
I'm really trying not to be so negative about everything around me, but it's kind of difficult to do that when I hate my job so much, it's almost physically painful to get up in the morning. The job hunt is going slooooooowly. I've sent, at present moment, 32 resumes. I've had a paper in Nebraska call me and I've spoken to a guy in New York. Truth be told, it's my lack of geography skills that led me to apply in Nebraska, as I was under the (mistaken) impression that it was closer to Michigan, in the vicinity of Ohio. I'm willing to move north, but I'm not looking to move to the midwest. I have nothing against the
midwest, but I do, in fact, have something against constant tornadoes. I actually have a great fear of tornadoes.
Also, the job wouldn't pay much more than I'm making now, and I'm not willing to move to a place under constant tornado threat to make not much more than I am now, and to begin work at 6:30 a.m.
Now the New York job. . .I want that so badly, it's almost a physical want.
Ok, now I'm finished with work and I'm waiting for Carrie to finish so we can get food and then watch ANTM so I can bring you another fabulous recap.
Anyway, the New York job. It would be like if the Life section here had an actual staff, had its own reporters and photographers, rather than having everything done by just me. I would be a writing member of that staff in the New York job.
Nick's leaving Tuesday for England. I'm. . .you know, I'm glad he's getting the opportunity and all that stuff best friends are supposed to do, but I'm actually not pleased he's leaving. Back when I was in the midst of my "relationship," I told myself, yeah, I'd be fine when he left, because I had The Guy in my life, and so I had, you know, male attention. Since that "relationship" exploded in a glorious and fantastic fashion, I'm back to where I started, and back to. . .whatever. I don't really want to talk about it, actually.
I went to the Mountain State Fair yesterday with Carrie, Frank, Steph, Joel, and their friend Chris. It was pretty cool, since I got the opportunity to take a lot of pictures, and any place where I have the opportunity to take a lot of photos is fine with me. I'll put a couple up later. My photo card is in my car at the moment, and I'm entirely too lazy to go down and get it.
That's all for now, I suppose. I'll go for more cheerful next time.
I have time to begin this entry while my crappy work computer restarts. You know your computer is old and crappy when you try to put a picture on the page and it says "out of memory." One would think that a media outlet would have better technology, so they can persist in getting the important, breaking news without having to restart their computer 150 times a day.
One would be wrong.
I'm really trying not to be so negative about everything around me, but it's kind of difficult to do that when I hate my job so much, it's almost physically painful to get up in the morning. The job hunt is going slooooooowly. I've sent, at present moment, 32 resumes. I've had a paper in Nebraska call me and I've spoken to a guy in New York. Truth be told, it's my lack of geography skills that led me to apply in Nebraska, as I was under the (mistaken) impression that it was closer to Michigan, in the vicinity of Ohio. I'm willing to move north, but I'm not looking to move to the midwest. I have nothing against the
midwest, but I do, in fact, have something against constant tornadoes. I actually have a great fear of tornadoes.Also, the job wouldn't pay much more than I'm making now, and I'm not willing to move to a place under constant tornado threat to make not much more than I am now, and to begin work at 6:30 a.m.
Now the New York job. . .I want that so badly, it's almost a physical want.
Ok, now I'm finished with work and I'm waiting for Carrie to finish so we can get food and then watch ANTM so I can bring you another fabulous recap.
Anyway, the New York job. It would be like if the Life section here had an actual staff, had its own reporters and photographers, rather than having everything done by just me. I would be a writing member of that staff in the New York job.
Nick's leaving Tuesday for England. I'm. . .you know, I'm glad he's getting the opportunity and all that stuff best friends are supposed to do, but I'm actually not pleased he's leaving. Back when I was in the midst of my "relationship," I told myself, yeah, I'd be fine when he left, because I had The Guy in my life, and so I had, you know, male attention. Since that "relationship" exploded in a glorious and fantastic fashion, I'm back to where I started, and back to. . .whatever. I don't really want to talk about it, actually.
I went to the Mountain State Fair yesterday with Carrie, Frank, Steph, Joel, and their friend Chris. It was pretty cool, since I got the opportunity to take a lot of pictures, and any place where I have the opportunity to take a lot of photos is fine with me. I'll put a couple up later. My photo card is in my car at the moment, and I'm entirely too lazy to go down and get it.
That's all for now, I suppose. I'll go for more cheerful next time.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
ANTM Episode 2: The One Where Everyone Gets Political
Episode two! More drama! More posing! More fierceness!
Samantha is going to miss prom and graduation to be on the show, but that's ok! W
ho needs a stupid high school dance where you dress up to a ridiculous extreme and pile makeup on your face while pretending to like the people around you when you can. . .be on TV, dressing up to a ridiculous extreme and pretend to like the people around you?
Brittany B. really, really wants to win.
Brittany S. looks kind of like a duck. Or like Sarah from Cycle 5. I don't think she's pretty at all.
Marjorie has awful teeth. She emigrated from France when she was 9. She was homeschooled. I really can't stand this girl.
The remaining 14 are on a roof, randomly. Since Tyra and the Jays are easily confused, two of the Brittanys have their names changed. Brittany B. is, henceforth, to be known as Sharaun. I have no idea from whence this name has come. Ugly Duck Brittany S. is now McKey. The hell?
Isis mentions she's a former he on the way to becoming a she.
Oh, and here are the Jays. OJ refers to the girls as "14 lucky bitches." The girls then run from the roof to this bus all decked out in makeup and pinkness. It looks like every former winner of this show has thrown up in this bus.
The girls get to their new digs and go tearing through the house. Hannah reminds us, yet again, that she had no electricity or running water while she was growing up. Hannah remains boring.
There's random footage of a snail.
The girls all gather around Isis and question her. She talks about using tape to hide her junk in a bathing suit and about filing down Adams apples. They discuss her voice, which is actually low, but not abnormally so. I mean, I have a low voice for a female, so I get it.
Now they're talking about Marjorie. My dear GOD, this girl bugs me. I can't even put into words how much I can't stand this chick. She's so skittish, and she's not cute and she's so self-depricating. It's not cute, girlfriend. Not fierce at all.
There's a pool so, of course, everyone jumps in. Isis says this is the first time she's gone swimming as "Isis." Isis is kind of cute and endearing. McKey and Isis discuss transitioning, which Isis likens to going through puberty again. McKey says Isis is developing "like a butterfly." How cute! I don't hate McKey as much as I did last episode.
You know who I do hate more than last episode, though? Clark. I'm afraid she and I are going to have to break up. She says she's "not closedminded, but traditional." Hannah (who still needs to shut up and go back to Alaska) is talking to Clark. Clark says that in the South, you "don't run into a he-she every day." First of all, shut up, Clark. Secondly, I went to college with at least one transgender person, and I went to school in the South. So there. Clark says Isis "has no place in this competition."
McKey reminds me why I didn't like her last episode. She's punching. . .the air. And then a pillow. All to the soundtrack of Eye of the Tiger. I can't even tell you how awesome that is. Clark tells us this is not a fighting competition, but a modeling competition. She doesn't think McKey is right in the head.
Tyra mail!! It's on a screen, where we see a picture of Tyra as a fierce postman. "Tomorrow, it's going to get really intimate in under a minute. I assure you it will be . . . magical. Love, Tyra." They all read the message in unison, and it is annoying. I hope they don't keep this up all season, because that'll get really, really old.
The girls pull up in front of a magic castle. The paintings have pairs of eyes that follow you around the room. Creeeepy. Ed Alonso, the Misfit of Magic, is behind a curtain. He irritates me within 10 seconds. Some fake magic tricks are done and all of a sudden, it's. . .NIG
EL BARKER, noted fashion photographer. Then Ed Alonso opens a large book called "Secrets of a Top Model" and Paulina Porizkova appears.
The world of modeling is like magic - full of illusions. Blah blah blah, the judges "disappear" (forcing the girls to, once again, pretend that they disappeared before their very eyes,) and the judges go to different places in the castle and the girls have to find them and be interviewed. If I were one of those judges, I'd hide in the most remote corner so the girls couldn't find me and freak out and cry because they failed the challenge. But, you know, that's me. And I'm hateful.
Also, Marjorie's eyes are bugged out and they freak me out a little bit. She's so not cute.
McKey is wearing an awesome glittery silver shirt I'd kill for. She finds BJ first.
Sharaun introduces herself to all the judges as America's Next Top Model. God, this girl is annoying. Paulina is Not Amused. When Sharaun tells BJ she's America's Next Top Model, he says, OK, then I guess I don't need to ask you anything. Burn. Nigel hates her. As do I.
Marjorie blanks when asked her favorite photographer and is so awkward, I want to pass her a necklace with one bead made of cyanide she can just pop and get it over with. She's awkward in the same way that the British version of The Office is awkward. That is to say, extremely.
Paulina loves Samantha. I feel Samantha has had a lobotomy at some point in her life.
Nigel is impressed by Isis' knowledge of light in photographs but feels there's "something about her that was unusual." Oh, Nigel.
After a moment with Joslyn and BJ that I don't really care about, the interviews are over and the girls go back to their house where there was a giant pink box in the backyard. Turns out, the box is filled with presents for all of them. Free clothes, accessories, and other assorted fierceness.
TYRA MAIL! "Fashion isn't the only way to make a statement. Love, Tyra." The models are stumped. Not altogether surprisingly. Oh, Tyra. You and your mysterious, crafty ways.
Nikeysha isn't nervous. Maybe she should be. She's really annoying.
Time for a photo shoot! OJ busts out of a voting booth and talks about how it's an election year, etc. The girls will be posing as different election issues. Also, the girls who aren't yet registered to vote will be registered that day. O. . .k? I guess it's the good, American thing to do, but that was kind of sprung on them. What if they don't want to register? We never find out, though. $100 bucks says Clark registers as a Republican.
Random things I notice here: Isis' shirt looks like a scrub shirt that a nurse would wear and Irritating Sharaun blinks and widens her eyes a lot when she talks. It's very distracting.
Tyra, apparently, is passionate about the upcoming presidential race. Mike Rosenthal, ANTM regular, is doing the shoot. The girls are get their crazy make-up put on.
Samantha (right) interviews that she's never done a photoshoot and says that the only shoot she's ever done is when her father rounded up her and her brothers and said, "Smile!" Samantha does this adorable face and puts her hands into the "Rock on!" position to demonstrate how most of her pictures look. I'm not really a Samantha fan, but that was an adorable moment.
Marjorie, the immigrant, has "immigration" as her issue. Of course. I hate this girl so much, and can't help but notice her freakishly long neck. She's wearing a dress that looks like it was made out of shredded electrical tape.
Brittany's (left) issue is "military." Her shoot is boring, so I have nothing to say about it.
Next up is Clark. Poor, dumb Clark, my ex-girlfriend. She is representing "bureaucracy." She asks if that's the same thing as Communism. Of course. McKey either really just won't tell Clark what bureaucracy is or she doesn't know. I kind of hope she just doesn't want to tell her. Clark gives the photographer the "same face" on a set full of red tape, and she "looks like a Barbie doll." Communist Barbie. That'll be the big seller this Christmas. Watch out, Tickle Me Elmo. Communist Barbie will take all of your property and distribute it amongst the masses.
McKey's (right) issue is "environment" and she's posing with a voting booth which appears to be deep in the jungles of the Amazon. She's wearing a tight bronze dress and she starts punching the air like it took her last bottle of SmartWater. I really love that they're playing Eye of the Tiger again. I really hope that becomes McKey's official theme song, because not only do I love the song, but it cracks me up every time they play it. Clark thinks McKey is crazy. Shut up, Clark.
Commercial!
We're back and Hannah is up next, posing with the issue of "nuclear weapons." She's wearing what appears to be a trash bag with a red ribbon tied aroun
d it. Hannah remains boring.
My second girlfriend, Elina, (right) is up next, and her issue is "foreign policy." I guess she does have a foreign look about her, now that I think about it. She smiles with her eyes. As you do.
Isis is up. She's told she has good skin. Her issue is "privacy" and it's shown by her pretending to vote and having other contestants behind the voting booth "spying" on her. All the while, they're making bitchy commentary. Sharaun says, "Reality is, she's a man." Isis remains classy, all the while wearing a sequined dress that I'm not sure I could pull off. I have to say that, personally, I don't understand the whole transgender thing, but if you're going to do it, that's your perrogative, and you shouldn't have nasty bitches saying crap to you. I was hesitant when I heard there was going to be a transgender contestant, but I'm kind of loving Isis now. She basically rocks the shoot.
SHEENA! My God, I love this girl. She's up next and her issue is "energy." She has on blue lipstick, which I don't actually understand, and is wearing a dress that reminds me of Jessica Rabbit. I love Sheena more than words can express. OJ yells "hootch!" when she gets a little too sexy. I hope this isn't going to be Sheena's downfall, like Sara from Cycle 2, who also got the "too s
exy" cut.
It's Joslyn's (left) turn and her issue is "unemployment." She's wearing a little pink dress. Jay tells her she was "almost Tyra Banks hot." Which, one might argue, isn't really a compliment.
Analeigh's issue is "healthcare" and she's wearing black sequins. There's not much to say about this one, even though I find her endearing.
Sharaun (right) is up and her issue is "homeland security." OJ says she's looking "convoluted," which. . .does that make sense? Can one LOOK convoluted? I just looked the word up, and the definition is "having convolutions." Thanks, Webster. Convolutions are, apparently, "complications or intricacies of design, a form or shape that is folded in curved or tortuous windings." Eh, ok. She's wearing a short, bluish purple shirtdress. OJ says there's nothing sexy about it at all. True.
Samantha, doing "economy," wears a pink and black dress that looks like it belongs on a paper doll.
Lauren Brie (left) has "education," which I feel is unfortunate for
someone so dumb-looking. She wears a dress that looks like bark.
Nikeysha (right) is last (thank God) and her issue is "cloning." She's wearing an outfit that looks like something I imagine a dominatrix going to the Emmys would wear. It also has a white tutu. Wow. She's really, really thin. Do I see an intervention in her near future?
TYRA MAIL! One of these bitches is going home. Sharaun is ready for someone to be cut and for Tyra to tell her she's America's Next Top Model. Foreshadowing, party of one? Your table's ready.
Marjorie talks about. . .something. Honest to God, I can't stand this girl being on my screen. The lack of confidence is not appealing at all. You have to have some level of confidence to even try out for this show, so she needs to stop pretending like she doesn't think she's hot.
Commercials!
We're back with the panel and see Tyra, again looking like she raided Judy Jetson's wardrobe and then stole the gauntlets that went with my marching band uniform in high school. I guess this is "safari Judy Jetson," because it's all khaki/ Fierce khaki.
Tyra tells us, for the first of at least 12 times, that the prizes are a contract with Elite Model Management, a 6-page spread in Seventeen mag, and a $100,000 contract with Cover Girl. I miss the days where the magazine they would appear in was Jane magazine. Oh, Jane, how I miss you.
The judges we know. Nigel, Paulina, and BJ. More of the same. I miss Janice Dickinson, too.
First up on the chopping block is Marjorie. (Boo! Hiss!) (left) Nigel sees nothing but nerves, while Paulina sees a brain. Tyra thinks the photo is "divine."
Sharaun is next and BJ comments on how she likes to sp
read her legs. I'm really just going to let that one go without comment, mmk? The judges aren't huge fans.
Poor, dumb Clark (right) approaches the table. She admits she didn't know what bureaucracy is and Tyra wonders why she didn't ask. Well, to be fair, she did, but McKey wouldn't tell her. Ha! Her picture is kind of hideous and her entire performance was "mediocre." Yay!
Elina is next. Nigel thinks she looks patriotic. I think she looks hot.
Nikeysha approaches with the "Heeeey!" that is already grating on my nerves. Please, someone give this girl a sandwich and shut her up. Her "face looked great" but she didn’t "have model legs." They, apparently, look like "encased meat." Oh my God, that's awesome. Nikeysha looks confused. I think she's not sure what meat is, since she chooses not to eat anything other than water and celery sticks. Tyra says Nikeysha needs to shut up and that she has trouble taking critique.
Samantha looks like Bridget Hall and also "looks like she runs in the fresh air," which is. . .good?
Josyln looks like Tyra going on a go-see back in the day. She looks pleased with this until she realizes
this is not a compliment. They make her take off her earrings and necklace. BJ says she "looks like you’re going out to get some work.” Again, not a compliment. But actually, the picture isn't awful. Go figure.
Analeigh's (left) picture "doesn’t say healthcare" to Nigel. Paulina disagrees.
Brittany is next and BJ loves that she looks "6 feet tall and powerful." Tyra’s brother, who has been in the Air Force for 20 years, will, apparently, ca
ll Tyra and say he approves of the picture. I didn't even know Tyra HAD a brother. Oh, man. Bring him in as a guest judge! Please!
Hannah’s headband (right) is too Gossip Girl. Hello, plug for a fellow CW show! That's Hannah's favorite show, so, again, I don't think that she gets that it's an insult. Her picture . . . dude, she looks like more of a man than Isis.
My girl Sheena (left) is up and everyone approves of her picture. Tyra tells her, in response to her concern about looking too hootchie, to "model the opposite of what you have on." I'm not entirely certain what the opposite of blue lipstick is.
McKey is up. (Where in the HELL did they get these names?) Apparently, her film wasn't good until she started boxing the air. Tyra tells her to box in her head. Sage advice. Paulina has nothing negative to say.
Lauren Brie is up, looking more brain dead than usual. The problem with her pic
ture is that we "don't see her eyes, so we don't see the light." Really, I think all you'd see if you looked into her eyes is empty space wrapped in evil.
Isis (right) is up. Tyra talks about her being transgender and cracks on her hair. It's a good picture, though.
The judges begin their deliberations. I fully expected Tyra to say to the girls, "And one of you. . .will be out." I've been watching too much Project Runway. They think Marjorie is "magnificent" but is a "bundle of nerves." They talk about her using French phrases. That's going to get really old really fast. Nigel thinks Shavaun is an "unusual character." Elina "isn't sexy in person, but takes a good picture." Samantha, says Tyra, has one safe look and she needs a boyish haircut to toughen her up. Uh oh. Hello, makeovers! Nikeysha had a good shot but is irritating as hell. I'm paraphrasing a little there. Clark has one of the worst pictures in the bunch, but she has "gorgeous legs." Too bad she has a repugnant personality. Joslyn is a complete surprise to Nigel, but "he gets it." Not much is said about Analeigh. Brittany has a great shot and it makes Tyra "feel patriotic." Hannah's shot is a mess for Nigel and she "has no light in her eyes." Well, hello. She grew up with no electricity! She doesn't know what light is! Sheena has a "rockin' body." As far as McKey goes, Nigel sees "a gorgeous picture of a gorgeous girl" but they feel she lucked into it. Lauren Brie's photo kind of sucks, but Nigel is into her big old forehead. Isis "is a model" and Nigel thinks she's smart. Now wait a minute. Those are two descriptors that don't go together at all. Personally, I think I'd rather be smart. Remind me of that next time I'm complaining because guys find me "intimidating."
Commercial!
Tyra appears, looking stern. Fourteen girls stand before her, but she only has 13 photos in her hands. And Tyra has a special surprise for the girls. Whomever is called first every week will have her picture displayed in the house for a week. That's. . .underwhelming. The first name she's going to call. . .is. . .
Marjorie! (Boo! Hiss!) She's still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model. Isis is called next and she is cutely happy. Next is McKey, followed by Joslyn. The next name she's going to call. . .is. . .Elina. She's still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model. She's followed by Samantha, Brittany, Sheena, Analeigh (who does a weird high kick) and poor, dumb Clark. Lauren Brie is called and the next name Tyra is going to call. . .is. . . Hannah. She's still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model.
Tyra kind of looks like a man here.
Sharaun and Nikeysha are the bottom two. They both stand before Tyra, but she only has one photo in her hands. The girl's name that she doesn't call must immediately return to the house, pack her bags, and go home.
Sharaun did not inspire the judges during her interviews with them. She has no substance. Nikeysha had a strong picture, but she wouldn't shut up, she cut them off while they were talking, and that wasn't attractive. So who stays?
It's Nikeysha! I guess she's the lesser of the two evils. Sharaun (hilariously) hits the ground crying. Nikeysha is still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model. Tyra knows Sharaun wanted it, but it's not about wanting it. You have to be real. I'm distracted, again, by how thin Nikeysha is. Sharaun tells us she's not cocky, just confident, and the judges got the wrong impression. Whatever.
Next time: Some girls make out with each other and Hannah may or may not be racist.
Samantha is going to miss prom and graduation to be on the show, but that's ok! W
ho needs a stupid high school dance where you dress up to a ridiculous extreme and pile makeup on your face while pretending to like the people around you when you can. . .be on TV, dressing up to a ridiculous extreme and pretend to like the people around you?Brittany B. really, really wants to win.
Brittany S. looks kind of like a duck. Or like Sarah from Cycle 5. I don't think she's pretty at all.
Marjorie has awful teeth. She emigrated from France when she was 9. She was homeschooled. I really can't stand this girl.
The remaining 14 are on a roof, randomly. Since Tyra and the Jays are easily confused, two of the Brittanys have their names changed. Brittany B. is, henceforth, to be known as Sharaun. I have no idea from whence this name has come. Ugly Duck Brittany S. is now McKey. The hell?
Isis mentions she's a former he on the way to becoming a she.
Oh, and here are the Jays. OJ refers to the girls as "14 lucky bitches." The girls then run from the roof to this bus all decked out in makeup and pinkness. It looks like every former winner of this show has thrown up in this bus.
The girls get to their new digs and go tearing through the house. Hannah reminds us, yet again, that she had no electricity or running water while she was growing up. Hannah remains boring.
There's random footage of a snail.
The girls all gather around Isis and question her. She talks about using tape to hide her junk in a bathing suit and about filing down Adams apples. They discuss her voice, which is actually low, but not abnormally so. I mean, I have a low voice for a female, so I get it.
Now they're talking about Marjorie. My dear GOD, this girl bugs me. I can't even put into words how much I can't stand this chick. She's so skittish, and she's not cute and she's so self-depricating. It's not cute, girlfriend. Not fierce at all.
There's a pool so, of course, everyone jumps in. Isis says this is the first time she's gone swimming as "Isis." Isis is kind of cute and endearing. McKey and Isis discuss transitioning, which Isis likens to going through puberty again. McKey says Isis is developing "like a butterfly." How cute! I don't hate McKey as much as I did last episode.
You know who I do hate more than last episode, though? Clark. I'm afraid she and I are going to have to break up. She says she's "not closedminded, but traditional." Hannah (who still needs to shut up and go back to Alaska) is talking to Clark. Clark says that in the South, you "don't run into a he-she every day." First of all, shut up, Clark. Secondly, I went to college with at least one transgender person, and I went to school in the South. So there. Clark says Isis "has no place in this competition."
McKey reminds me why I didn't like her last episode. She's punching. . .the air. And then a pillow. All to the soundtrack of Eye of the Tiger. I can't even tell you how awesome that is. Clark tells us this is not a fighting competition, but a modeling competition. She doesn't think McKey is right in the head.
Tyra mail!! It's on a screen, where we see a picture of Tyra as a fierce postman. "Tomorrow, it's going to get really intimate in under a minute. I assure you it will be . . . magical. Love, Tyra." They all read the message in unison, and it is annoying. I hope they don't keep this up all season, because that'll get really, really old.
The girls pull up in front of a magic castle. The paintings have pairs of eyes that follow you around the room. Creeeepy. Ed Alonso, the Misfit of Magic, is behind a curtain. He irritates me within 10 seconds. Some fake magic tricks are done and all of a sudden, it's. . .NIG
EL BARKER, noted fashion photographer. Then Ed Alonso opens a large book called "Secrets of a Top Model" and Paulina Porizkova appears.The world of modeling is like magic - full of illusions. Blah blah blah, the judges "disappear" (forcing the girls to, once again, pretend that they disappeared before their very eyes,) and the judges go to different places in the castle and the girls have to find them and be interviewed. If I were one of those judges, I'd hide in the most remote corner so the girls couldn't find me and freak out and cry because they failed the challenge. But, you know, that's me. And I'm hateful.
Also, Marjorie's eyes are bugged out and they freak me out a little bit. She's so not cute.
McKey is wearing an awesome glittery silver shirt I'd kill for. She finds BJ first.
Sharaun introduces herself to all the judges as America's Next Top Model. God, this girl is annoying. Paulina is Not Amused. When Sharaun tells BJ she's America's Next Top Model, he says, OK, then I guess I don't need to ask you anything. Burn. Nigel hates her. As do I.
Marjorie blanks when asked her favorite photographer and is so awkward, I want to pass her a necklace with one bead made of cyanide she can just pop and get it over with. She's awkward in the same way that the British version of The Office is awkward. That is to say, extremely.
Paulina loves Samantha. I feel Samantha has had a lobotomy at some point in her life.
Nigel is impressed by Isis' knowledge of light in photographs but feels there's "something about her that was unusual." Oh, Nigel.
After a moment with Joslyn and BJ that I don't really care about, the interviews are over and the girls go back to their house where there was a giant pink box in the backyard. Turns out, the box is filled with presents for all of them. Free clothes, accessories, and other assorted fierceness.
TYRA MAIL! "Fashion isn't the only way to make a statement. Love, Tyra." The models are stumped. Not altogether surprisingly. Oh, Tyra. You and your mysterious, crafty ways.
Nikeysha isn't nervous. Maybe she should be. She's really annoying.
Time for a photo shoot! OJ busts out of a voting booth and talks about how it's an election year, etc. The girls will be posing as different election issues. Also, the girls who aren't yet registered to vote will be registered that day. O. . .k? I guess it's the good, American thing to do, but that was kind of sprung on them. What if they don't want to register? We never find out, though. $100 bucks says Clark registers as a Republican.
Random things I notice here: Isis' shirt looks like a scrub shirt that a nurse would wear and Irritating Sharaun blinks and widens her eyes a lot when she talks. It's very distracting.
Tyra, apparently, is passionate about the upcoming presidential race. Mike Rosenthal, ANTM regular, is doing the shoot. The girls are get their crazy make-up put on.
Samantha (right) interviews that she's never done a photoshoot and says that the only shoot she's ever done is when her father rounded up her and her brothers and said, "Smile!" Samantha does this adorable face and puts her hands into the "Rock on!" position to demonstrate how most of her pictures look. I'm not really a Samantha fan, but that was an adorable moment.
Marjorie, the immigrant, has "immigration" as her issue. Of course. I hate this girl so much, and can't help but notice her freakishly long neck. She's wearing a dress that looks like it was made out of shredded electrical tape.
Brittany's (left) issue is "military." Her shoot is boring, so I have nothing to say about it.
Next up is Clark. Poor, dumb Clark, my ex-girlfriend. She is representing "bureaucracy." She asks if that's the same thing as Communism. Of course. McKey either really just won't tell Clark what bureaucracy is or she doesn't know. I kind of hope she just doesn't want to tell her. Clark gives the photographer the "same face" on a set full of red tape, and she "looks like a Barbie doll." Communist Barbie. That'll be the big seller this Christmas. Watch out, Tickle Me Elmo. Communist Barbie will take all of your property and distribute it amongst the masses.
McKey's (right) issue is "environment" and she's posing with a voting booth which appears to be deep in the jungles of the Amazon. She's wearing a tight bronze dress and she starts punching the air like it took her last bottle of SmartWater. I really love that they're playing Eye of the Tiger again. I really hope that becomes McKey's official theme song, because not only do I love the song, but it cracks me up every time they play it. Clark thinks McKey is crazy. Shut up, Clark.
Commercial!
We're back and Hannah is up next, posing with the issue of "nuclear weapons." She's wearing what appears to be a trash bag with a red ribbon tied aroun
d it. Hannah remains boring.My second girlfriend, Elina, (right) is up next, and her issue is "foreign policy." I guess she does have a foreign look about her, now that I think about it. She smiles with her eyes. As you do.
Isis is up. She's told she has good skin. Her issue is "privacy" and it's shown by her pretending to vote and having other contestants behind the voting booth "spying" on her. All the while, they're making bitchy commentary. Sharaun says, "Reality is, she's a man." Isis remains classy, all the while wearing a sequined dress that I'm not sure I could pull off. I have to say that, personally, I don't understand the whole transgender thing, but if you're going to do it, that's your perrogative, and you shouldn't have nasty bitches saying crap to you. I was hesitant when I heard there was going to be a transgender contestant, but I'm kind of loving Isis now. She basically rocks the shoot.
SHEENA! My God, I love this girl. She's up next and her issue is "energy." She has on blue lipstick, which I don't actually understand, and is wearing a dress that reminds me of Jessica Rabbit. I love Sheena more than words can express. OJ yells "hootch!" when she gets a little too sexy. I hope this isn't going to be Sheena's downfall, like Sara from Cycle 2, who also got the "too s
exy" cut.It's Joslyn's (left) turn and her issue is "unemployment." She's wearing a little pink dress. Jay tells her she was "almost Tyra Banks hot." Which, one might argue, isn't really a compliment.
Analeigh's issue is "healthcare" and she's wearing black sequins. There's not much to say about this one, even though I find her endearing.
Sharaun (right) is up and her issue is "homeland security." OJ says she's looking "convoluted," which. . .does that make sense? Can one LOOK convoluted? I just looked the word up, and the definition is "having convolutions." Thanks, Webster. Convolutions are, apparently, "complications or intricacies of design, a form or shape that is folded in curved or tortuous windings." Eh, ok. She's wearing a short, bluish purple shirtdress. OJ says there's nothing sexy about it at all. True.
Samantha, doing "economy," wears a pink and black dress that looks like it belongs on a paper doll.
Lauren Brie (left) has "education," which I feel is unfortunate for
someone so dumb-looking. She wears a dress that looks like bark.Nikeysha (right) is last (thank God) and her issue is "cloning." She's wearing an outfit that looks like something I imagine a dominatrix going to the Emmys would wear. It also has a white tutu. Wow. She's really, really thin. Do I see an intervention in her near future?
TYRA MAIL! One of these bitches is going home. Sharaun is ready for someone to be cut and for Tyra to tell her she's America's Next Top Model. Foreshadowing, party of one? Your table's ready.
Marjorie talks about. . .something. Honest to God, I can't stand this girl being on my screen. The lack of confidence is not appealing at all. You have to have some level of confidence to even try out for this show, so she needs to stop pretending like she doesn't think she's hot.
Commercials!
We're back with the panel and see Tyra, again looking like she raided Judy Jetson's wardrobe and then stole the gauntlets that went with my marching band uniform in high school. I guess this is "safari Judy Jetson," because it's all khaki/ Fierce khaki.
Tyra tells us, for the first of at least 12 times, that the prizes are a contract with Elite Model Management, a 6-page spread in Seventeen mag, and a $100,000 contract with Cover Girl. I miss the days where the magazine they would appear in was Jane magazine. Oh, Jane, how I miss you.
The judges we know. Nigel, Paulina, and BJ. More of the same. I miss Janice Dickinson, too.
First up on the chopping block is Marjorie. (Boo! Hiss!) (left) Nigel sees nothing but nerves, while Paulina sees a brain. Tyra thinks the photo is "divine."
Sharaun is next and BJ comments on how she likes to sp
read her legs. I'm really just going to let that one go without comment, mmk? The judges aren't huge fans.Poor, dumb Clark (right) approaches the table. She admits she didn't know what bureaucracy is and Tyra wonders why she didn't ask. Well, to be fair, she did, but McKey wouldn't tell her. Ha! Her picture is kind of hideous and her entire performance was "mediocre." Yay!
Elina is next. Nigel thinks she looks patriotic. I think she looks hot.
Nikeysha approaches with the "Heeeey!" that is already grating on my nerves. Please, someone give this girl a sandwich and shut her up. Her "face looked great" but she didn’t "have model legs." They, apparently, look like "encased meat." Oh my God, that's awesome. Nikeysha looks confused. I think she's not sure what meat is, since she chooses not to eat anything other than water and celery sticks. Tyra says Nikeysha needs to shut up and that she has trouble taking critique.
Samantha looks like Bridget Hall and also "looks like she runs in the fresh air," which is. . .good?
Josyln looks like Tyra going on a go-see back in the day. She looks pleased with this until she realizes
this is not a compliment. They make her take off her earrings and necklace. BJ says she "looks like you’re going out to get some work.” Again, not a compliment. But actually, the picture isn't awful. Go figure.Analeigh's (left) picture "doesn’t say healthcare" to Nigel. Paulina disagrees.
Brittany is next and BJ loves that she looks "6 feet tall and powerful." Tyra’s brother, who has been in the Air Force for 20 years, will, apparently, ca
ll Tyra and say he approves of the picture. I didn't even know Tyra HAD a brother. Oh, man. Bring him in as a guest judge! Please!Hannah’s headband (right) is too Gossip Girl. Hello, plug for a fellow CW show! That's Hannah's favorite show, so, again, I don't think that she gets that it's an insult. Her picture . . . dude, she looks like more of a man than Isis.
My girl Sheena (left) is up and everyone approves of her picture. Tyra tells her, in response to her concern about looking too hootchie, to "model the opposite of what you have on." I'm not entirely certain what the opposite of blue lipstick is.
McKey is up. (Where in the HELL did they get these names?) Apparently, her film wasn't good until she started boxing the air. Tyra tells her to box in her head. Sage advice. Paulina has nothing negative to say.
Lauren Brie is up, looking more brain dead than usual. The problem with her pic
ture is that we "don't see her eyes, so we don't see the light." Really, I think all you'd see if you looked into her eyes is empty space wrapped in evil.Isis (right) is up. Tyra talks about her being transgender and cracks on her hair. It's a good picture, though.
The judges begin their deliberations. I fully expected Tyra to say to the girls, "And one of you. . .will be out." I've been watching too much Project Runway. They think Marjorie is "magnificent" but is a "bundle of nerves." They talk about her using French phrases. That's going to get really old really fast. Nigel thinks Shavaun is an "unusual character." Elina "isn't sexy in person, but takes a good picture." Samantha, says Tyra, has one safe look and she needs a boyish haircut to toughen her up. Uh oh. Hello, makeovers! Nikeysha had a good shot but is irritating as hell. I'm paraphrasing a little there. Clark has one of the worst pictures in the bunch, but she has "gorgeous legs." Too bad she has a repugnant personality. Joslyn is a complete surprise to Nigel, but "he gets it." Not much is said about Analeigh. Brittany has a great shot and it makes Tyra "feel patriotic." Hannah's shot is a mess for Nigel and she "has no light in her eyes." Well, hello. She grew up with no electricity! She doesn't know what light is! Sheena has a "rockin' body." As far as McKey goes, Nigel sees "a gorgeous picture of a gorgeous girl" but they feel she lucked into it. Lauren Brie's photo kind of sucks, but Nigel is into her big old forehead. Isis "is a model" and Nigel thinks she's smart. Now wait a minute. Those are two descriptors that don't go together at all. Personally, I think I'd rather be smart. Remind me of that next time I'm complaining because guys find me "intimidating."
Commercial!
Tyra appears, looking stern. Fourteen girls stand before her, but she only has 13 photos in her hands. And Tyra has a special surprise for the girls. Whomever is called first every week will have her picture displayed in the house for a week. That's. . .underwhelming. The first name she's going to call. . .is. . .
Marjorie! (Boo! Hiss!) She's still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model. Isis is called next and she is cutely happy. Next is McKey, followed by Joslyn. The next name she's going to call. . .is. . .Elina. She's still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model. She's followed by Samantha, Brittany, Sheena, Analeigh (who does a weird high kick) and poor, dumb Clark. Lauren Brie is called and the next name Tyra is going to call. . .is. . . Hannah. She's still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model.
Tyra kind of looks like a man here.
Sharaun and Nikeysha are the bottom two. They both stand before Tyra, but she only has one photo in her hands. The girl's name that she doesn't call must immediately return to the house, pack her bags, and go home.
Sharaun did not inspire the judges during her interviews with them. She has no substance. Nikeysha had a strong picture, but she wouldn't shut up, she cut them off while they were talking, and that wasn't attractive. So who stays?
It's Nikeysha! I guess she's the lesser of the two evils. Sharaun (hilariously) hits the ground crying. Nikeysha is still in the running toward becoming America's Next Top Model. Tyra knows Sharaun wanted it, but it's not about wanting it. You have to be real. I'm distracted, again, by how thin Nikeysha is. Sharaun tells us she's not cocky, just confident, and the judges got the wrong impression. Whatever.
Next time: Some girls make out with each other and Hannah may or may not be racist.
ANTM Episode 1: The One With the Bad Special Effects - Part 2
Aaaaand we're back. With Sheena! Yay!! She's apparently half Japanese and half Korean. Her boyfriend is black and she likes "all flavas." You go, Sheena. Sheena looks fierce (and I don't mean that sarcastically) in her red bikini. Sheena, I love you.
Lindsey, 23, is from Mississippi. She's a plus-sized model, apparently, although TyraBot tells her she's a little thin for a plus-sized. My guess is that since Whitney won last cycle, TyraBot will stop her plus-sized rampage.
Brittany R. (right) is up next. She's black and Native American. She thinks she's diverse. OJ thinks BR has gorgeous skin. Color me underwhelmed.
Hannah, apparently, represents "a middle class person." Ok, Hannah. You're boring. Get off my screen.
We see the girls eating broccoli. Kacey makes fun of the way Isis is eating her broccoil. Kacey, you're a bitch. Shut up. I, personally, don't see anything weird about the way Isis is eating, but whatevs.
Hannah was once chased by a moose. TyraBot take the opportunity to teach Hannah how to run fiercely. I just noticed that OJ is wearing something that very closely resembles a lacey tablecloth. Fierce.
Montage! We see some of the 33 acting crazy and TyraBot acting craz. . .ier than usual.
Joslyn, who has an obnoxious voice, has to do a commercial for a towel. It sucks. This is the one who has auditioned 30 times.
Renee, 19, is wearing a short lycra dress over tights to make up an outfit that looks like something I would wear, so I approve. She's from Tennessee and wants people to know that Nashville is a big fashion place.
One of my girlfriends, Elina, comes in in her bathing suit. She has a tattoo across her stomach. Ew. Elina, I may have to move Sheena to your top place. Elina only wears black and tan, because she wants to wear things that aren't gender-specific. Oh, Elina. You're one of those. The "LESBIAN!" light starts blinking.
Oh, ok. She's not a lesbian. She's an equal opportunity lover. So, like that one twin from a few cycles ago. Word. She is a "sexual person who loves who she loves."
We see the girls talking about lesbianism. Elina has had relationships with women. Veronique is astounded. Kacey thinks Elina is weird. Elina thinks, during a really, incredibly awkward conversation, she's got a crush on Clark. Is this going to become another Kim and Sarah from cycle 5? I hope so.
(I feel the need to throw in here that I myself am not a lesbian. I realized how much I'm talking about my girl crushes, but that's just because there aren't any guys on the show to treat as eye candy. I'm just saying. I do like dudes.)
Commercial!
During this commercial break, there's a Pepto Bismol commercial on that showcases a guy in a bubble gum pink sweater vest. My question is, WHY do I not own this sweater vest? Also, there's a commercial about phones (the one with the option of black, white, and fierce green?) Someone texts a question to someone and the answer is, "Yes." I want to know
what the question is.
We're back, and the judges are meeting Nikeysha, 19, (right) from New York. TyraBot said Nikeysha flashed the camera while auditioning. Nikeysha flashes the panel again. She throws her fake boobs at them (????) I'm over Nikeysha.
Another Brittany (left) comes in. Brittany S is from Illinois. Her boyfriend is a cage fighter, and she's into martial arts. I think B.S. tries too hard. She's got crazy hair that the judges encourage her to pull away from her face. TyraBot sees a model under all the hair. I see a crazy person.
Susan, 23, is from Michigan and just graduated from Harvard. Her major was English and American Literature and Language. As a fellow English major, I'm thrilled. However, TyraBot asks Susan for her favorite novel heroine and Susan can't think of any. To be fair, she's put on the spot and the whole thing is probably stressful, but really? Make something up. Surely you've read books. Susan, apparently, "didn't pay attention in those classes." Oh, Susan. Also, TyraBot is kind of a snob. I'm just sayin'. Susan looks good in her blue bikini, though. These kids clearly aren't on here because they're geniuses.
Next up is Samantha (right) from California. When she first came in, I thought she was Clark. They're both blondes. Samantha wants to "change the industry" but she doesn't know any models working today. Samantha is also boring. Also, her tan really bothers me for some reason.
Yay! We've reached the end of the interviews!
They're going to whittle the number down to 20, so 13 unfortunates will be auf'd. The Jays are wearing pink shirts that are hurting my face. I know I said I liked the Pepto Bismol sweater vest, but this is another kind of pink entirely. This pink should only be unleashed when one's life is in danger. I wonder if TyraBot considers this shade of pink fierce.
The girls all have to put their hands on a scanner thing to see if their access is granted or denied. Those who are moving on to the next level, so to speak, are Hannah, Brittany R., Lauren, Analeigh, Lindsay, Elina, Kacey, Sheena (Yay!), Isis, Brittany S., Joslyn, Samantha, Marjorie, Susan, Clark, Brittany B., and Nikeysha, who screams and says, "Take me aboard the mothership with these hot aliens!"
Hoo boy.
Renee cries. Also, holy hell, why did they keep all the Brittanys?
OJ, who is looking mighty, mighty orange and who has changed his pants again, says the girls have "five minutes to do your makeup and get into your metallic catsuits." Why this sentence isn't uttered more often, I'm not entirely certain. It's photo shoot time! They're posing with a number of what appears to be those large exercise balls. Samantha is underwhelming and has on weird-looking makeup. Marjorie "looks like a model." I find her annoying as hell. Joslyn, Brittany R., and Analeigh pose. Analeigh is "old school Claudia Schiffer." Hannah, who just looks awkward, reminds us she didn't have electricity or running water growing up. Elina "knows how to use her hands." Kacey doesn't see Isis as competition. Shut up, Kacey! Brittany B. climbs on the scenery.
Kacey keeps talking about how she's going to win and I feel that because of that, she'll be out.
Commercials!
Now, for whatever reason, the Jays are wearing gray plastic trench coats. It's time to evaluate the 20. OJ thinks Analeigh looks like a model. They all mock Nikeysha saying, "Heeeeey!" They make fun of Susan for not knowing about her major. Elina has intimidating eyes. Brittany R. looks multi-racial, Brittany S. has a natural pouty lip, and Brittany B. has energy. Lindsey reminds BJ of last season's Whitney. I'm guessing this is bad? They made fun of how Marjorie moves her hands and OJ says he'd only cast her in European shows. TyraBot thinks Isis has beautiful eyes, but they're concerned about prejudices. Samantha is cute and commercial, which I'm guessing means she'll be put through and get to the final 5 or so, and then they'll cut her for. . .being too commercial. Joslyn is positive. Kacey looks like a Barbie doll. Lauren Brie has a face like an angel. I think Lauren Brie looks frightening. Clark, and I quote, "needs some ugly pretty because right now she's pretty pretty and pretty pretty is ugly ugly." Whatever that means. TyraBot is confused about Hannah. They love Sheena. As do I.
Now, the "elimination download" is complete. So what does this mean? It means that they, again, get to get beamed up fiercely and break a few girls' hearts and dreams.
The first Cycle 11 finalist is. . .Sheena! Whooo! You go, girl! Next are Analeigh, wearing a flowly blue dress I love, Nikeysha, looking anorexic in a pink flowy dress, Marjorie, in a hideous dress, Samantha, Elina, wearing what is actually a fairly fabulous black outfit, Brittany R., and Brittany S., wearing those hideous boot heels.
TyraBot tells us there are 6 names left.
Next up, Brittany B., still holding her damn lucky underwear and Hannah, wearing what appears to be a long shirt.
There are 4 names left.
Yes to Lauren Brie with the ugly eyes, also wearing what appears to be a shirt, and Isis who, I did notice, does have man hands.
There are 2 names left. I'm glad TyraBot thinks I can't count.
Next up, Clark, who, again, seems to be wearing a long shirt.
TyraBot, whose makeup makes her look 17 different kinds of dead, says, "The last name I'm going to call. . .is. . ."
It's Joslyn, the one who tried out 30 times.
I totally called Kacey being outed. She's wearing a weird jacket and pouting.
The girls give TyraBot, who is wearing an outfit that appears to be something Jane Jetson would wear on a night out, sluttin' it up on the street corner, their fiercest pose.
And this is the end of the first episode. Since it was a two-hour premiere, there's another hour to go after this one, but it's technically two episodes. Everyone, stay fierce.
Lindsey, 23, is from Mississippi. She's a plus-sized model, apparently, although TyraBot tells her she's a little thin for a plus-sized. My guess is that since Whitney won last cycle, TyraBot will stop her plus-sized rampage.
Brittany R. (right) is up next. She's black and Native American. She thinks she's diverse. OJ thinks BR has gorgeous skin. Color me underwhelmed.Hannah, apparently, represents "a middle class person." Ok, Hannah. You're boring. Get off my screen.
We see the girls eating broccoli. Kacey makes fun of the way Isis is eating her broccoil. Kacey, you're a bitch. Shut up. I, personally, don't see anything weird about the way Isis is eating, but whatevs.
Hannah was once chased by a moose. TyraBot take the opportunity to teach Hannah how to run fiercely. I just noticed that OJ is wearing something that very closely resembles a lacey tablecloth. Fierce.
Montage! We see some of the 33 acting crazy and TyraBot acting craz. . .ier than usual.
Joslyn, who has an obnoxious voice, has to do a commercial for a towel. It sucks. This is the one who has auditioned 30 times.
Renee, 19, is wearing a short lycra dress over tights to make up an outfit that looks like something I would wear, so I approve. She's from Tennessee and wants people to know that Nashville is a big fashion place.
One of my girlfriends, Elina, comes in in her bathing suit. She has a tattoo across her stomach. Ew. Elina, I may have to move Sheena to your top place. Elina only wears black and tan, because she wants to wear things that aren't gender-specific. Oh, Elina. You're one of those. The "LESBIAN!" light starts blinking.
Oh, ok. She's not a lesbian. She's an equal opportunity lover. So, like that one twin from a few cycles ago. Word. She is a "sexual person who loves who she loves."
We see the girls talking about lesbianism. Elina has had relationships with women. Veronique is astounded. Kacey thinks Elina is weird. Elina thinks, during a really, incredibly awkward conversation, she's got a crush on Clark. Is this going to become another Kim and Sarah from cycle 5? I hope so.
(I feel the need to throw in here that I myself am not a lesbian. I realized how much I'm talking about my girl crushes, but that's just because there aren't any guys on the show to treat as eye candy. I'm just saying. I do like dudes.)
Commercial!
During this commercial break, there's a Pepto Bismol commercial on that showcases a guy in a bubble gum pink sweater vest. My question is, WHY do I not own this sweater vest? Also, there's a commercial about phones (the one with the option of black, white, and fierce green?) Someone texts a question to someone and the answer is, "Yes." I want to know
what the question is.We're back, and the judges are meeting Nikeysha, 19, (right) from New York. TyraBot said Nikeysha flashed the camera while auditioning. Nikeysha flashes the panel again. She throws her fake boobs at them (????) I'm over Nikeysha.
Another Brittany (left) comes in. Brittany S is from Illinois. Her boyfriend is a cage fighter, and she's into martial arts. I think B.S. tries too hard. She's got crazy hair that the judges encourage her to pull away from her face. TyraBot sees a model under all the hair. I see a crazy person.Susan, 23, is from Michigan and just graduated from Harvard. Her major was English and American Literature and Language. As a fellow English major, I'm thrilled. However, TyraBot asks Susan for her favorite novel heroine and Susan can't think of any. To be fair, she's put on the spot and the whole thing is probably stressful, but really? Make something up. Surely you've read books. Susan, apparently, "didn't pay attention in those classes." Oh, Susan. Also, TyraBot is kind of a snob. I'm just sayin'. Susan looks good in her blue bikini, though. These kids clearly aren't on here because they're geniuses.
Next up is Samantha (right) from California. When she first came in, I thought she was Clark. They're both blondes. Samantha wants to "change the industry" but she doesn't know any models working today. Samantha is also boring. Also, her tan really bothers me for some reason.Yay! We've reached the end of the interviews!
They're going to whittle the number down to 20, so 13 unfortunates will be auf'd. The Jays are wearing pink shirts that are hurting my face. I know I said I liked the Pepto Bismol sweater vest, but this is another kind of pink entirely. This pink should only be unleashed when one's life is in danger. I wonder if TyraBot considers this shade of pink fierce.
The girls all have to put their hands on a scanner thing to see if their access is granted or denied. Those who are moving on to the next level, so to speak, are Hannah, Brittany R., Lauren, Analeigh, Lindsay, Elina, Kacey, Sheena (Yay!), Isis, Brittany S., Joslyn, Samantha, Marjorie, Susan, Clark, Brittany B., and Nikeysha, who screams and says, "Take me aboard the mothership with these hot aliens!"
Hoo boy.
Renee cries. Also, holy hell, why did they keep all the Brittanys?
OJ, who is looking mighty, mighty orange and who has changed his pants again, says the girls have "five minutes to do your makeup and get into your metallic catsuits." Why this sentence isn't uttered more often, I'm not entirely certain. It's photo shoot time! They're posing with a number of what appears to be those large exercise balls. Samantha is underwhelming and has on weird-looking makeup. Marjorie "looks like a model." I find her annoying as hell. Joslyn, Brittany R., and Analeigh pose. Analeigh is "old school Claudia Schiffer." Hannah, who just looks awkward, reminds us she didn't have electricity or running water growing up. Elina "knows how to use her hands." Kacey doesn't see Isis as competition. Shut up, Kacey! Brittany B. climbs on the scenery.
Kacey keeps talking about how she's going to win and I feel that because of that, she'll be out.
Commercials!
Now, for whatever reason, the Jays are wearing gray plastic trench coats. It's time to evaluate the 20. OJ thinks Analeigh looks like a model. They all mock Nikeysha saying, "Heeeeey!" They make fun of Susan for not knowing about her major. Elina has intimidating eyes. Brittany R. looks multi-racial, Brittany S. has a natural pouty lip, and Brittany B. has energy. Lindsey reminds BJ of last season's Whitney. I'm guessing this is bad? They made fun of how Marjorie moves her hands and OJ says he'd only cast her in European shows. TyraBot thinks Isis has beautiful eyes, but they're concerned about prejudices. Samantha is cute and commercial, which I'm guessing means she'll be put through and get to the final 5 or so, and then they'll cut her for. . .being too commercial. Joslyn is positive. Kacey looks like a Barbie doll. Lauren Brie has a face like an angel. I think Lauren Brie looks frightening. Clark, and I quote, "needs some ugly pretty because right now she's pretty pretty and pretty pretty is ugly ugly." Whatever that means. TyraBot is confused about Hannah. They love Sheena. As do I.
Now, the "elimination download" is complete. So what does this mean? It means that they, again, get to get beamed up fiercely and break a few girls' hearts and dreams.
The first Cycle 11 finalist is. . .Sheena! Whooo! You go, girl! Next are Analeigh, wearing a flowly blue dress I love, Nikeysha, looking anorexic in a pink flowy dress, Marjorie, in a hideous dress, Samantha, Elina, wearing what is actually a fairly fabulous black outfit, Brittany R., and Brittany S., wearing those hideous boot heels.
TyraBot tells us there are 6 names left.
Next up, Brittany B., still holding her damn lucky underwear and Hannah, wearing what appears to be a long shirt.
There are 4 names left.
Yes to Lauren Brie with the ugly eyes, also wearing what appears to be a shirt, and Isis who, I did notice, does have man hands.
There are 2 names left. I'm glad TyraBot thinks I can't count.
Next up, Clark, who, again, seems to be wearing a long shirt.
TyraBot, whose makeup makes her look 17 different kinds of dead, says, "The last name I'm going to call. . .is. . ."
It's Joslyn, the one who tried out 30 times.
I totally called Kacey being outed. She's wearing a weird jacket and pouting.
The girls give TyraBot, who is wearing an outfit that appears to be something Jane Jetson would wear on a night out, sluttin' it up on the street corner, their fiercest pose.
And this is the end of the first episode. Since it was a two-hour premiere, there's another hour to go after this one, but it's technically two episodes. Everyone, stay fierce.
ANTM Episode 1: The One With the Bad Special Effects - Part 1
So here's the first ANTM recap. Episode one. It was two hours long and it almost killed the battery on my laptop.
Let's begin.
Tyra tells us that it's been a "decade" of ANMT, since this is cycle 11, even though the show has only been on since 2003. Last time I checked, a decade was 10 years, not five. In all actuality, ANTM has only been on for a dec.
In "celebration" of the fact that the "show" has been on for a "decade," they're back in L.A. I'd heard that the reason they'd moved the show to New York was because Tyra had a new man. Did that not work out? Did he realize that Tyra's not an actual person but, instead, a fierce cyborg?
Speaking of cyborgs! Apparently, the theme of this season is Cheesetastic "Futuristic" Bad Special Effects. Keep your eye out for these throughout the next two hours, because they run rampant. Fiercely. But more about that later.
We see all 33 semi-finalists on a bus. Hannah, 18, (shown at right) is from Alaska. Hannah says she's "excited" because "Alaska doesn't have freeways. Or people." Hannah is boring.
Sheena, 21, (below) has, according to one of the other 32, an advantage because "she's the only Oriental girl here." Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it un-PC to say Oriental these days? Isn't it "Asian." Well, Oriental, Asian, Potato, Po-
tah-to, Sheena is awesome. She'll be Girl Crush #1.
So now we're at this warehouse building and the first of several bad, cheap-looking "special" effects happens. This green lightening bolt runs down said building.
Actually, you know, during this show, there were several times this commercial for cell phones came on and the color options for these phones were black, white, and fierce green. I'm going to assume that the official color of that lightning bolt is fierce green.
And it's THE JAYS! OMG! And they're wearing bad silver and white wigs. Black Jay looks like a Muppet. I'll warn you now that I refuse to call J. Alexander Miss J, since he's not actually a woman, so I'm going to differentiate by calling them OJ (Orange Jay aka Jay Manuel) and BJ (for Black Jay). Maybe it's racist, I'm not sure, but really, it's easier. Although, you know, the initials BJ would probably be appropriate for either one of them, if you know what I'm sayin'.
Onward.
Apparently, the 33 are about to go into the Top Model Institute of Technology. I'm blinded by the Jays' shiny silver jackets and the prevalence of their Man Boobs, or, moobs, if you will.
Veronique, 19, from California says something about it's every girl's dream to be there, but I'm more distracted by her awful, awful teeth.
We get a bunch of crap about how the TMIoT is there to "build better models." Judging from the ANTM wi
nners of the last few cycle, they have quite the job on their hands. OJ scans his hand to get access and it all reminds me of those movies from, you know, the 80's and prior that shows all this high-tech gadgetry but really, you can tell that the buttons were painted with nail polish and you an see the string attached to the parts that "move on their own."
Brittney B., 18, (left) from Chicago is "going to win this." She seems awfully confident. In fact, her confidence is so annoying and so overwhelming, it's almost a relief that. . .oh, wait, I won't give it away yet. Let's just say, schadenfreude was an overwhelming feeling for me come the end of these 2 hours.
Elina, 18, (right) from Seattle is my Girl Crush #2. She's hot, but in an odd sort of way. Also, she's vegan. And I'm going to guess, a lesbian. I'm not being stereotypical - she just has that way about her.
Kacey, 19, from California tells us that she "knows how to have class and be sophisticated." She's not ghetto, which is proven because her name is not LaSheaquitah LaSamitah. Oh my God, you guys, my first child is so going to be named LaSheaquitah LaSamitah. Also, Kacey is annoying.
Veronique is a Mormon. Veronique is boring.
The 33 then have their walks and "pertinent date" "analyzed" "scientifically." Really? All I'm noticing here is that in this scene, OJ looks like a woman.
Isis of the Big Ass Earrings, 22, (left) from Maryland is "interested in anything fashion-related." Maybe someone should tell Isis that those earrings would not be considered fashionable anywhere except maybe. . .no. Never mind. They wouldn't be
considered fashionable anywhere.
Clark, 19, (right) from South Carolina is my Girl Crush #3. Except she seems like a total bitch. She feels that when she walks, she intimidates people.
Joslyn, 23, (below) is from Louisiana and has tried out for ANTM 30 times. No, that's not a typo. Not 3 times. 30 times. One would think you'd get a hint after the first. . .10 or so times? I would say that Joslyn is the Susan Lucci of ANTM, but at least La Lucci was nominated
for something. Joslyn never even made it to the (hypothetical) awards ceremony. I'm hoping that Joslyn isn't this season's answer to Cycle 9 winner Jaslene, because then I will be sorely disappointed because I hated Jaslene and Joslyn irritates me.
BJ says something about how they're there to build better models and the 33 are supposed to step into the Glaminator 11.0. My first thought is, wow, if version 11.0 looks this ghetto, I'd hate to see the first 10 or so Glaminators. My second thought is how much I love Sheena, because she says, "I was like, they got technology like that?" And my third thought is, wow, I must really be more of a racist than I thought I was, because I immediately noticed that BJ is wearing white shoes and OJ is wearing black shoes, and I thought it was kind of funny.
Oh no! The Glaminator 11.0 is shaking uncontrollably and it has fierce green bolts shooting out of it. The 33 look surprised. I say anyone who didn't know Tyra was going to pop out of this thing right about now deserves to be on this show.
The 33, of course, freak out. One says, "She [Tyra] is really hot. And tall." She's also wearing silver lipstick and her boobs are pushed up to her chin. She's scary, man. Really scary.
Tyra says that the next Top Model needs to be "technologically bankable." Get it? Bankable, Tyra BANKS? Just me? Ok.
Tyra asks the 33, "Can you make money?" My guess is no, not if they're on this show for any extended period of time.
After more crap no one cares about, Tyra says, "Beam us up. . .fiercely." And she and the Jays are "beamed up" while the 33 stand there looking like something actually just happened other than a director saying, "Ok, cut. Now, Tyra, Jays, run away so there's nothing there anymore and you 33 stand there and look surprised. Try to channel the first time you realized that no one in the history of Top Model has ever made a legitimate career as a Top Model. Channel that time that you realized that guy you gave it up to wasn't REALLY going to stay with you forever. Tony, get me a sandwich. Aaaaaand, ACTION!"
Commercial!
Has anyone else noticed that everything Tyler Perry does, he has to put his name in front of? Tyler Perry's House of Payne, Tyler Perry's The Family That Preys, Tyler Perry's Enormous Ego.
And we're back! TyraBot, Alpha Jay and Beta Jay (still known as BJ and OJ) are beamed into the room and ready to meet the 33. OJ is wearing new pants.
First up is Brittany B. who is "hella confident." OJ wants to know who her favorite designer is and BB can't name any. She says that's why she's there, to learn. TyraBot shuts her down pretty quickly. Peace out, BB. It was nice knowing you. She walks in a bikini clutching her lucky underwear. Oh dear God, I hope they're clean. Something is said about her energy. I'm not paying attention, because I'm praying those are clean underpants she's carrying.
Lauren Brie, 20, (right) is up next. She thinks she's "exotic looking." Um, she's blonde with blue eyes. She's boring, but I'm certain she'll at least make it to the next round.
Analeigh, 19, (below) used to be a competitive figure skater. She's cute in a bohemian sort of way and she's wearing a gigantic peace sign around her ne
ck. She actually kind of reminds me of my little sister, who, incidentally, is the coolest chick I know. And, holy shit, you guys! Analeigh was sold to a Saudi prince as a wife, all the while thinking she was being signed to an agency. That's pretty heavy. TyraBot is glad Analeigh is safe.
Here's Clark, the Hot Bitch. She says she's "bonding" with the girls, but she doesn't want people to mistake that as her making friends. Clark (with no "e") tells TyraBot and the Jays that she's the prettiest girl in the competition. She says she has no bodily insecurities. Who here thinks that midway through the season, we have a big Tyra Banks as Oprah moment where we discover she was anorexic for years? OJ is bored by Clark.
Kacey I Hate is back. Her family calls her White Girl. Apparently, she used to have a lot of white friends, but she's not friends with them anymore? Why? Because they didn't understand why she couldn't go swimming. Why couldn't she go swimming? Because, for one, she can't swim, but also because of her hair. TyraBot thinks that's dumb. As do I.
Marjorie (right) is from France. TyraBot speaks something that vaguely sounds like French but I have all ideas is actually just her stomach growling. She's nervous by nature. Everyone loves her. Oh my God, along with her bathing suit, she's wearing those weird boots that are high heels. I hate those. Also, Marjorie is already grating on my nerves, and I think she's really weird-looking. Which probably means she'll win.
Joslyn, who is 23, feels that the other girls are immature, and she feels this way because she's older. It makes me so sad that an age that I'll be leaving behind in a month and a half is "old."
Veronique talks about being Mormon and how her parents put her on lockdown when she was 16 because she was having sex.
Next up is Isis of the Large Earrings, who has drawn a picture for TyraBot. As you do. She was a background model in a shoot from cycle 10. She was also born male. There's some discussion about whether she's pre- or post-op (she's pre-op, but would have the surgery immediately if she could.) Tyra steps up onto a soapbox. I guess Isis is this cycle's cause. I can't decide how I feel about Isis. She does, in fact, look masculine, but then again, so does Jaslene, and she won. I don't see Isis winning, though, because although Seventeen Magazine would have a field day with that story, I can't see Cover Girl hiring anything other than a squeaky clean Girl Next Door for a spokesperson.
The girls are shown sitting around, discussing boobs. Specifically, Isis' boobs, or lack thereof. Isis tells them she's not technically entirely a she, and everyone is a little weirded out. . .except for Awesome Sheena. She says the best person with the best spirit will win. Clark says she's going to "stomp that man right out of the competition." Clark is kind of a bitch. I would guess that we'll have an Isis v. Clark girl fight before the 6th episode.
Commercial!
Part 2 to follow.
Let's begin.
Tyra tells us that it's been a "decade" of ANMT, since this is cycle 11, even though the show has only been on since 2003. Last time I checked, a decade was 10 years, not five. In all actuality, ANTM has only been on for a dec.
In "celebration" of the fact that the "show" has been on for a "decade," they're back in L.A. I'd heard that the reason they'd moved the show to New York was because Tyra had a new man. Did that not work out? Did he realize that Tyra's not an actual person but, instead, a fierce cyborg?
Speaking of cyborgs! Apparently, the theme of this season is Cheesetastic "Futuristic" Bad Special Effects. Keep your eye out for these throughout the next two hours, because they run rampant. Fiercely. But more about that later.
We see all 33 semi-finalists on a bus. Hannah, 18, (shown at right) is from Alaska. Hannah says she's "excited" because "Alaska doesn't have freeways. Or people." Hannah is boring.
Sheena, 21, (below) has, according to one of the other 32, an advantage because "she's the only Oriental girl here." Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it un-PC to say Oriental these days? Isn't it "Asian." Well, Oriental, Asian, Potato, Po-
tah-to, Sheena is awesome. She'll be Girl Crush #1.So now we're at this warehouse building and the first of several bad, cheap-looking "special" effects happens. This green lightening bolt runs down said building.
Actually, you know, during this show, there were several times this commercial for cell phones came on and the color options for these phones were black, white, and fierce green. I'm going to assume that the official color of that lightning bolt is fierce green.
And it's THE JAYS! OMG! And they're wearing bad silver and white wigs. Black Jay looks like a Muppet. I'll warn you now that I refuse to call J. Alexander Miss J, since he's not actually a woman, so I'm going to differentiate by calling them OJ (Orange Jay aka Jay Manuel) and BJ (for Black Jay). Maybe it's racist, I'm not sure, but really, it's easier. Although, you know, the initials BJ would probably be appropriate for either one of them, if you know what I'm sayin'.
Onward.
Apparently, the 33 are about to go into the Top Model Institute of Technology. I'm blinded by the Jays' shiny silver jackets and the prevalence of their Man Boobs, or, moobs, if you will.
Veronique, 19, from California says something about it's every girl's dream to be there, but I'm more distracted by her awful, awful teeth.
We get a bunch of crap about how the TMIoT is there to "build better models." Judging from the ANTM wi
nners of the last few cycle, they have quite the job on their hands. OJ scans his hand to get access and it all reminds me of those movies from, you know, the 80's and prior that shows all this high-tech gadgetry but really, you can tell that the buttons were painted with nail polish and you an see the string attached to the parts that "move on their own."Brittney B., 18, (left) from Chicago is "going to win this." She seems awfully confident. In fact, her confidence is so annoying and so overwhelming, it's almost a relief that. . .oh, wait, I won't give it away yet. Let's just say, schadenfreude was an overwhelming feeling for me come the end of these 2 hours.
Elina, 18, (right) from Seattle is my Girl Crush #2. She's hot, but in an odd sort of way. Also, she's vegan. And I'm going to guess, a lesbian. I'm not being stereotypical - she just has that way about her.
Kacey, 19, from California tells us that she "knows how to have class and be sophisticated." She's not ghetto, which is proven because her name is not LaSheaquitah LaSamitah. Oh my God, you guys, my first child is so going to be named LaSheaquitah LaSamitah. Also, Kacey is annoying.
Veronique is a Mormon. Veronique is boring.
The 33 then have their walks and "pertinent date" "analyzed" "scientifically." Really? All I'm noticing here is that in this scene, OJ looks like a woman.
Isis of the Big Ass Earrings, 22, (left) from Maryland is "interested in anything fashion-related." Maybe someone should tell Isis that those earrings would not be considered fashionable anywhere except maybe. . .no. Never mind. They wouldn't be
considered fashionable anywhere.Clark, 19, (right) from South Carolina is my Girl Crush #3. Except she seems like a total bitch. She feels that when she walks, she intimidates people.
Joslyn, 23, (below) is from Louisiana and has tried out for ANTM 30 times. No, that's not a typo. Not 3 times. 30 times. One would think you'd get a hint after the first. . .10 or so times? I would say that Joslyn is the Susan Lucci of ANTM, but at least La Lucci was nominated
for something. Joslyn never even made it to the (hypothetical) awards ceremony. I'm hoping that Joslyn isn't this season's answer to Cycle 9 winner Jaslene, because then I will be sorely disappointed because I hated Jaslene and Joslyn irritates me.BJ says something about how they're there to build better models and the 33 are supposed to step into the Glaminator 11.0. My first thought is, wow, if version 11.0 looks this ghetto, I'd hate to see the first 10 or so Glaminators. My second thought is how much I love Sheena, because she says, "I was like, they got technology like that?" And my third thought is, wow, I must really be more of a racist than I thought I was, because I immediately noticed that BJ is wearing white shoes and OJ is wearing black shoes, and I thought it was kind of funny.
Oh no! The Glaminator 11.0 is shaking uncontrollably and it has fierce green bolts shooting out of it. The 33 look surprised. I say anyone who didn't know Tyra was going to pop out of this thing right about now deserves to be on this show.
The 33, of course, freak out. One says, "She [Tyra] is really hot. And tall." She's also wearing silver lipstick and her boobs are pushed up to her chin. She's scary, man. Really scary.
Tyra says that the next Top Model needs to be "technologically bankable." Get it? Bankable, Tyra BANKS? Just me? Ok.
Tyra asks the 33, "Can you make money?" My guess is no, not if they're on this show for any extended period of time.
After more crap no one cares about, Tyra says, "Beam us up. . .fiercely." And she and the Jays are "beamed up" while the 33 stand there looking like something actually just happened other than a director saying, "Ok, cut. Now, Tyra, Jays, run away so there's nothing there anymore and you 33 stand there and look surprised. Try to channel the first time you realized that no one in the history of Top Model has ever made a legitimate career as a Top Model. Channel that time that you realized that guy you gave it up to wasn't REALLY going to stay with you forever. Tony, get me a sandwich. Aaaaaand, ACTION!"
Commercial!
Has anyone else noticed that everything Tyler Perry does, he has to put his name in front of? Tyler Perry's House of Payne, Tyler Perry's The Family That Preys, Tyler Perry's Enormous Ego.
And we're back! TyraBot, Alpha Jay and Beta Jay (still known as BJ and OJ) are beamed into the room and ready to meet the 33. OJ is wearing new pants.
First up is Brittany B. who is "hella confident." OJ wants to know who her favorite designer is and BB can't name any. She says that's why she's there, to learn. TyraBot shuts her down pretty quickly. Peace out, BB. It was nice knowing you. She walks in a bikini clutching her lucky underwear. Oh dear God, I hope they're clean. Something is said about her energy. I'm not paying attention, because I'm praying those are clean underpants she's carrying.
Lauren Brie, 20, (right) is up next. She thinks she's "exotic looking." Um, she's blonde with blue eyes. She's boring, but I'm certain she'll at least make it to the next round.
Analeigh, 19, (below) used to be a competitive figure skater. She's cute in a bohemian sort of way and she's wearing a gigantic peace sign around her ne
ck. She actually kind of reminds me of my little sister, who, incidentally, is the coolest chick I know. And, holy shit, you guys! Analeigh was sold to a Saudi prince as a wife, all the while thinking she was being signed to an agency. That's pretty heavy. TyraBot is glad Analeigh is safe.Here's Clark, the Hot Bitch. She says she's "bonding" with the girls, but she doesn't want people to mistake that as her making friends. Clark (with no "e") tells TyraBot and the Jays that she's the prettiest girl in the competition. She says she has no bodily insecurities. Who here thinks that midway through the season, we have a big Tyra Banks as Oprah moment where we discover she was anorexic for years? OJ is bored by Clark.
Kacey I Hate is back. Her family calls her White Girl. Apparently, she used to have a lot of white friends, but she's not friends with them anymore? Why? Because they didn't understand why she couldn't go swimming. Why couldn't she go swimming? Because, for one, she can't swim, but also because of her hair. TyraBot thinks that's dumb. As do I.
Marjorie (right) is from France. TyraBot speaks something that vaguely sounds like French but I have all ideas is actually just her stomach growling. She's nervous by nature. Everyone loves her. Oh my God, along with her bathing suit, she's wearing those weird boots that are high heels. I hate those. Also, Marjorie is already grating on my nerves, and I think she's really weird-looking. Which probably means she'll win.
Joslyn, who is 23, feels that the other girls are immature, and she feels this way because she's older. It makes me so sad that an age that I'll be leaving behind in a month and a half is "old."
Veronique talks about being Mormon and how her parents put her on lockdown when she was 16 because she was having sex.
Next up is Isis of the Large Earrings, who has drawn a picture for TyraBot. As you do. She was a background model in a shoot from cycle 10. She was also born male. There's some discussion about whether she's pre- or post-op (she's pre-op, but would have the surgery immediately if she could.) Tyra steps up onto a soapbox. I guess Isis is this cycle's cause. I can't decide how I feel about Isis. She does, in fact, look masculine, but then again, so does Jaslene, and she won. I don't see Isis winning, though, because although Seventeen Magazine would have a field day with that story, I can't see Cover Girl hiring anything other than a squeaky clean Girl Next Door for a spokesperson.
The girls are shown sitting around, discussing boobs. Specifically, Isis' boobs, or lack thereof. Isis tells them she's not technically entirely a she, and everyone is a little weirded out. . .except for Awesome Sheena. She says the best person with the best spirit will win. Clark says she's going to "stomp that man right out of the competition." Clark is kind of a bitch. I would guess that we'll have an Isis v. Clark girl fight before the 6th episode.
Commercial!
Part 2 to follow.
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