My Own Planet

More fun with lyrics
This time, from Coldplay's "Clocks"

Actual lyric: Lights go off and I can't be saved
Lyric heard by me: Lights go off in a candy safe

Every time I would listen to this song, I'd wonder who would be so obsessive about their candy that they would keep it locked up in a safe. Then I looked up the lyrics online and found out that there is indeed no such thing as a "candy safe." The third line isn't "Fuck me down upon my knees," either, so I no longer have to spend my precious time wondering why they let Chris Martin get away with saying "fuck" on the radio and not other people.

This is where the American Idol post goes
But today (shock!), there will be no American Idol post. This is because last night I decided to actually go out and get a life, and by the time I got home, I had no time to watch my tape of American Idol before my 10:30 bedtime. (As you can see, I obviously did not get too much of a life.) Anyway, this means that my reality-TV viewing tonight will be super-gluttonous as it will include a whole extra hour of American Idol. So tomorrow's blog entry promises to be quite lengthy indeed. Get ready!

Things I have learned in the past 24 hours
-Kim Cattrall played the title role in Mannequin, which was one of my favorite movies when I was little. (Not as high-ranking as Annie, Splash and Star Wars, of course, but still on the list.) Not having seen the movie since I was about seven, I always thought maybe Elizabeth Shue played the mannequin, because it seems like an Elizabeth Shue kind of role.

-The arrival of spring in early March is not necessarily a good thing, because it means summer arrives around the end of April.

-There is a porn star with the same name as my cousin. (Thanks, Google!)

-Totally unbeknownst to me, we had an earthquake last night that was so powerful it was apparently felt in several states. I totally slept through it, although I do blame it for my strange dream in which I, along with Nicole from Sorority Life, was a guest on some sort of live college tour of NPR's "Car Talk."

The dangers of working for three different magazines, all with similar subject matter
The following is an excerpt from an actual phone call that I placed to the PR rep of a decorative concrete company this morning:

"Hi, I'm with...oh crap, I forgot which magazine I was calling for!"

Professional, huh? Give me a break; it's Monday morning. Still, I think I'll refrain from further communication until I've had my daily Coke with lunch.

Thank God almighty, we are free at last
The Goat Girl's reign of terror is finally over! You know what did her in, don't you? I mean, besides her horrible singing week after week. It was her decision to hire Julia DeMato as her stylist. I mean, who else would have paired a bright orange Mandarin-inspired top with cropped camo pants and...well, I didn't see the footwear because I was too busy concentrating on the hideousness of the rest of the outfit, but I'm sure it was awful as well. Good riddance, Goat Girl! Go on to join the fashion-challenged ranks of those who went before you.

Last night was the first time in a long time that American Idol has worked out exactly as it should have: Carmen was voted off, Josh was next to last and Trenyce was right ahead of him. Ruben, K-Locke and Clay were all safe. Could the blog alliance be regaining some of its power?

Thank you, Heather, for reminding me what it was that Andrew said last week that made me think he's not half bad and even kind of love him a little bit. It was "the bee's knees," a phrase cherished by me, my friends from high school, and a random British tour guide. And apparently Andrew Firestone. Now I want to be Mrs. Firestone! Just kidding.

Seriously, though, even though I have said time and time again that I'm not ready to get married yet, last night I discovered one real benefit of getting married, which is that I would have someone to make sarcastic comments to while I'm watching TV. It's just no fun making them to yourself. Sure, I'm able to resurrect some of them the next day when I talk to my co-workers or write on my blog, but there are just so many that I can't possibly remember them all. And often I have trouble recapturing the magic. But here's a little sample of the kinds of comments you would be treated to if you married me:

Tina, on The Bachelor: "Is it going to get junior high? Do you want to make it junior high?"
Me: "Ooh, I hope it's going to get junior high! I love junior high!"

Brittany, on Sorority Life: "The whole sex toy party was Julia's idea."
Me: "You don't say!"

Andrew, on The Bachelor, mentioning repeatedly how he liked certain women for their ability to calm him down.
Me: "Perhaps what he needs is not so much a wife, but a Xanax."

I was sorry to see Liz go last night, even though I knew there was no way Andrew was going to keep her around very much longer. I loved her until the very end, even when she was going, "I have nothing left! Nothing!" I probably wouldn't have gotten that dramatic (you never know, though), but in many ways, Liz was my kindred spirit. Bad at hand-eye coordination. Prone to saying things like, "Do you think you might like ever maybe want to kiss me someday...maybe?" Bye, Liz. I'll miss you.

I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so...so...scared!!!
From the people who brought the lengthy rants about American Idol to this blog, its...The Saved by the Bell Blog!!!

Yes, it's true! It just so happens that long before Bri and I became obsessed with American Idol, another show captured our hearts. We both spent much of our adolescence watching episodes of Saved by the Bell on Saturday mornings and in syndication after school. During high school, we (along with our friend April) became alarmed at the lack of reverence and respect paid to this classic television show. Accordingly, we formed the Saved by the Bell Preservation/Appreciation Society.

Now the SBTBP/AS is in blog form. Bri and I actually like getting up at an ungodly hour each morning so that we can start our day off right with reruns of SBTB on TBS. However, some of you may not relish getting up at the crack of dawn. Hence, The Saved by the Bell Blog. Here, you can relive the show with us in all its campy glory, from Zack and Kelly's heart-wrenching breakup at the junior prom to Jessie's painful addiction to caffiene pills (our personal favorite episdode, by the way).

What people are saying about The Saved by the Bell Blog: "I'm seriously excited. I will be a devoted reader. I am anxious to peruse your caustic and sensual comments on a great television classic." --Chase, who once got to each lunch with Mark-Paul Gosselaar and Tiffani-Amber Thiessen because he won a contest

If you like this blog and you like Saved by the Bell, you are going to loooooove The Saved by the Bell Blog. So put your mind to it, go for it, and stop by The Saved by the Bell Blog today!

Idol...again
So I know some of you were disappointed last week when I decided to forego my usual lengthy recap of American Idol to talk about The Bachelor. I can't promise that I won't do that again tomorrow (especially if I become further devastated by Carmen's continuing presence on my TV screen), but for now I'm giving you what you want.

First, let's start with what was probably the best moment of the night, which was Randy saying that this competition is about looking for the best singer in America, and Carmen's not even close. Thank you! Finally, someone is vocalizing what the rest of us have been saying all along. (And finally, Randy is giving a criticism other than "That was a little pitchy, dog.") What would be even better is if someone would get up and say, "Stop doing that freaking vibrato thing! You sound like a goat that's using a jackhammer while it's being butchered by a machine gun!" Seriously, they should let me, Bri and the Tyrant be the judges. And Chase could be our guest judge. Only I can't say whether he's aged gracefully or not because he's only in his early 20s. But given the Seacrest-esque amounts of time he spends at the tanning bed, I'd say he'd be well-qualified to be an American Idol judge in about 30 years.

I'd rather not analyze whatever this strange relationship is between Carmen and Clay that involves him groping her during group sings and listening outside the trailer as she fakes an orgasm for the Herbal Essences commercial. (I'll bet the Mormons loved that.) Instead, I prefer to think that Ryan, Simon and Clay have some sort of gay sexual-tension love triangle going on and have to try and hide it by whoring on various women. That would explain why Simon had his beard--oh, I mean his girlfriend, sitting right behind him and also maybe why he was making out with the side of Diane Warren's face during the credits. As for Ryan, it appears that he's here, he's queer, and unfortunately for all of us, he isn't going anywhere. K-Locke seems to have taken on the role of fag hag in the group, which is why I love her. Still, you'd think she could find a better fag to hag than Ryan Seacrest.

Speaking of K-Locke, her outfits are getting better and better each week, but did anyone else notice that she appeared to have a piece of either Saran wrap or packing tape stuck to her right butt cheek? What was up with that? Her highlights were fabulous, though. Do you think she really got those by applying Herbal Essences color to her own hair? I don't.

So Josh sucked with the force of a thousand Hoovers. And I thought his performance of "Celebration" was bad. Now that we're not at war anymore, is it PC to vote him off the show? God, I hope so.

I have lately noticed that Ryan Seacrest is freakishly small. He just looks tiny compared to all of the contestants. Understandably, he looks small when standing next to Ruben. But Clay? Trenyce?? I'm assuming that the contestants, since they weren't Famous People until a couple of months ago, are actually the same size as the rest of us, which supports my theory that Ryan Seacrest is freakishly small. Not having ever been within 10 feet of Ryan Seacrest (and not ever wanting to be, for that matter), I cannot say whether this is an actual fact.

Bri has just informed me that the American Idol tour will be rolling into Birmingham this summer. I am SO going to go and am possibly going to make some really kick-ass signs. (And they won't say "Clay's voice makes me tingle.") Anyway, you're all invited to stay with me if you want to attend the Birmingham show. Just know that, because of the tiny size of my apartment, you'll either have to sleep on the floor, in the bathtub or with me. Hmm, I wonder if Clay needs a place to stay...

In my mind, I'm going to Carolina...
The full takeover of my work area by the Loudies has begun. They spent the morning moving their Nascar paraphernalia over to the desk across from mine. Fortunately, I was fully prepared for this, and last night I went to Target and bought the cheapest discman money can buy ($17.99, baby!), which I intend to keep at my desk at all times in order to drown them out. If I'm being forced to suffer this monumental injustice, I can at least do it while listening to James Taylor.

Speaking of which, listening to his Greatest Hits CD on the discman has highlighted yet another lyrical mistake in my long, long list of misheard lyrics.

Actual lyric: "Go away, then damn you/Go on and do as you please"
Lyric sung by me: "Go away, Jim Daniels/Go on and do as you please"

Who did I think this Jim Daniels was? Well, part of me didn't wonder because there are a lot of James Taylor lyrics that include seemingly random names (e.g. "Karen she's a silver sun" or "Suzanne the plans they made put an end to you"). However, I also wondered if perhaps "Jim Daniels" was a potent cocktail made from Jack Daniel's and Jim Beam. I sure as hell wouldn't want to drink such a thing, but it seemed a sort of fitting concotion for your average James Taylor song.

The Monica Lewinsky jokes are just too easy
I cannot believe Jennifer Garner dumped Scott Foley so she could search for love on Mr. Personality. Oh, wait...that's not her, just a very good impersonator. Well, at least we know if the whole "true love" thing doesn't pan out (and I'm sure it will, given the successful matches that have been made by reality-TV dating shows thus far), Hayley can find work as Jen's stunt double.

You know, you'd think on a show entitled Mr. Personality, in which the contestants are forced to wear scary-ass masks covering their faces, people would stop suggesting that looks are the most important quality to look for in a potential lifelong mate. But try telling that to Mr. Promo Guy. I mean, every freaking commercial break, he was there going, "Will there be any good-looking guys left??" Because obviously if there weren't, it would be a life-altering tragedy beyond belief.

I really don't understand what Fox is trying to do with this show. My guess, from what I've seen in the promos, is that they're hoping Hayley will pick one of the "ugly" guys and, when he unmasks himself, greet him with a mixture of shock and revulsion and then refuse to ever have anything to do with him again. But this is not going to happen for several reasons: 1) Hayley seems to only have one facial expression (wide-eyed surprise). 2) The "ugly" guys aren't even that ugly. 3) I really don't believe that most people (girls in particular) are so shallow that they would dump someone they've gotten to know and like just because they don't have a perfect chiseled face, and especially on national TV. I mean, even if Hayley were that shallow, I believe she's at least smart enough to wait and do it after the show is over, rather than making herself look like an ass by doing it on TV. Still, I think a girl would be more likely to dump a good-looking guy that she later discovered had no personality than she would be to dump a guy with a great personality that she later found out wasn't drop-dead gorgeous. If Fox really wants to prove that looks aren't everything, that's the show they should be doing. They should make a girl choose a guy only based on looks, and then reveal his sub-par personality. And then we'll see if she stays with him. They could call it Mr. Dumb Pretty Boy! And it could star Ryan Seacrest!

Speaking of which, here's what I learned from last night's episode of American "We're Mostly Filler and Damn Proud of It" Idol: It takes two hours to do both K-Locke's and Clay's hair. Ruben likes to get manis and pedis. K-Locke likes to flirt with Ryan, for some reason unbeknownst to all of us. Carmen may or may not be dating Clay. Ruben's hand is as big as Ryan's head. Carmen still sucks. Ryan is still annoying. Some girl wants to marry Clay. (Sorry, honey, I asked first.) So basically, I learned nothing.

Now it's time for The Funniest Things I Read Yesterday.

"Oh no! Michael Jackson has screwed himself up so much that his children were born with pixilated faces! The tragedy of it all!" --from the TWoP recap of American Idol

"Bryan also used to cheat at Scrabble by making up words. I remember this one time, he made up this word and told us it was some chemistry word. Then he went to get his chemistry book to show us. While he was getting his chemistry book, he wrote the (fake) word down in the cover with a fake definition, telling us that Mrs. Shelby said to write it in the cover. So mom allowed it. It was so a made up word, and I maintained that it was, but no one believed me." --Bri, about her brother, who likes to cheat at all games, not just Scrabble

Birmingham, Alabama, represent...or not so much
So I just left a message for someone at a company up in New York that I was calling to try and solicit a press release for the magazine. When I told the guy who answered the phone what my number was, he says, "Where are you, in Philly?" Philly?! Um, hello! It is shocking to me that in this day and age someone would not immediately associate the 205 area code with Birmingham, Alabama. Not only that, but shouldn't they really, when I say 205, respond with a hearty "Ruuuuuuuben"? Come on, big guy, you're falling down on your job!

There are good Mormons, and then there are baaaaaad Mormons
So why is it that the good Mormons (Audree) get sent home while the bad Mormons (Carmen) are still being allowed to inflict pain on the American public week after week? I don't know. But I'm tired of trying to figure it out. So today we're not even going to discuss American Idol. Instead, we're going to talk about one of my other favorite Wednesday-night reality shows: Skin Cancer Central! Oh, I mean The Bachelor.

Seriously, though, aren't these women at an age where baking yourself in the sun for hours every day does not seem like a good idea? They are! They're my age, and I know that I personally try to stay away from sunbathing because I'm worried about a) wrinkles and b) skin cancer. Sure, I do indulge from time to time, especially when I go to the beach (which is like once a year, if that), but I always wear at least SPF 30 and reapply often. Of course, my anti-sunbathing kick is a relatively new thing that has less to do with my age and more to do with this old woman I used to see at the university pool who had clearly spent most of her life sunbathing. She was SCARY. Her skin looked like leather, and to top it off, she was disgustingly skinny. She looked like a leather skeleton. So she was pretty much what scared me away from sunbathing. Perhaps we should send her on over to the ladies' villa, because I can tell that a few of them are heading for her fate.

Anyway. First of all, Tina from Wisconsin, Tina-Fabulous, Tina Not-a-Lesbian or whatever you want to call her: I love her. LOVE HER. Originally, she was not one of my favorites. Last week, my esteem for her began to grow when Andrew told her that she was his type, physically, and she was like, "It's not just about looks." (Finally, someone gets it!) Still, I wasn't totally sold on her. I think it was the hot-pink lipstick. And the horizontal-striped sequined dress. The girl has no fashion sense. But God, she's cool. She gets snarky with Andrew. She can throw a football in stiletto heels. I can't throw a football or wear stiletto heels. And when she wears that nice light-pink lip gloss, she kind of looks like Tori Amos. Then again, I also thought Ryan Seacrest's sister the other night looked kind of like Tori Amos. Maybe that's a side effect of watching too much reality TV. Everyone starts to look like Tori Amos.

On to the other Tina, Tina from Tennesee, or Scary Lesbian Tina. She may not have intimidated Andrew, but she sure as hell intimidated me. I think she's probably basically a nice person, but when she's talking to Andrew, she just starts barking out orders like she's some kind of drill sergeant. "I want to be in the top four!" What does that even mean? Like, feel free to dump me but please meet my family first? I'm now going to be scared going to Nashville for fear of running into Scary Lesbian Tina.

Say what you want about Liz, but I like her even more after last night's episode. She seems like the kind of person who, when she's excited, talks really fast, gets a little too emotional and is just a leeetle bit crazy. That's so me. Of course, I have the good sense not to showcase that side of my personality on national television and instead keep it confined to friends and family who know and love me for these little quirks. But whatever. Liz is just so darn cute. How can you not love her?

I was kind of sorry to see Drunk Amber go, simply because Drunk Amber has provided me with endless hours of amusement. From stuffing her face with hors d'oeuvres at the rose ceremony (honey, it's going to take a few truckloads of those canapes before you're the "fat girl at the reunion show") to her assessment of her date with Andrew ("I really feel like we have a chemistry," which led me to wonder if she was on the same date as the rest of us), Drunk Amber kept me in stitches throughout the entire episode. In fact, she inspired me to come up with a brilliant idea for a new reality show, starring her and Trishelle from The Real World. It would be called The Wacky Adventures of Amber & Trishelle, and each week, we would follow the girls as they get wasted, hook up with random pretty boys and say unbelievably stupid things. The host: Bob from the Bachelor.

So Heather: Was she even in the episode at all? I swear to God, when Andrew was watching his video messages and she popped up on the screen, he was like, "Who the hell is that?" Not that I blame him. I had the same reaction.

Kirsten is totally going to win, and I am totally not happy about that. Kirsten is one of those girls who doesn't have any girlfriends, only boyfriends. I'm sorry, but girls like that are sketchy. SKETCHY. And guys should recognize that these are not the kind of girls they need to be forming a serious relationship with. Sure, guys might think that this is ideal because it allows them to escape having their every move criticized by a pack of girlfriends. However, if a girl doesn't have any close girlfriends she can turn to for emotional support, she's going to rely solely on her boyfriend/fiance/husband and eventually become way too clingy, needy and possibly psychotic. Anyway, I guess I can see where Kirsten is coming from with her theory that she's there to find a husband, not make friends. But the reality is that she's spending a lot more time with the other girls than she is with Andrew, and so it wouldn't kill her to at least be nice to them. I'm not saying she has to try and be best friends with everyone in the house like Liz is doing (which, by the way, is what I totally would do and why I love Liz), but she could at least make an effort. Plus, we've already seen that Andrew is the type who likes to ask the girls what they think about one another (which suggests he might be slightly shady as well), and I really think that shunning the other girls might have a negative impact on Kirsten in the future.

Totally unrelated to The Bachelor, the Loudies seem to have purchased some sort of talking Aflac duck that goes "Aflac! AfLAC! AFLAC!" whenever you squeeze it. Surprisingly, it manages to be even more annoying than they are. Somewhat unsurprisingly, they think it is the cutest thing ever and insist on setting it off every five minutes. I'm considering kidnapping it and leaving a ransom note while they're at lunch.

Say it ain't so
High drama in the office today, as apparently, the Loudies are being relocated so they are smack dab in the middle of where all the editors sit. (As if them sitting 10 feet behind us wasn't bad enough.) Apparently one of the editors has already started a grassroots movement to protest this new development. Unfortunately, she chose to plead her case to our office manager, whose office is located right next to where the Loudies sit and who, as a result, is pretty much a Loudie-by-association. So now we're all getting together in about 30 minutes to discuss further steps we can take to prevent this from happening. Says one of my co-workers in an e-mail earlier today:

I'm about to move my office down to the lake so I can hang out with the ducks, who are more intellectually stimulating than all the loud morons around here.

Sounds like a good idea to me. Plus, we would get to hang out with the otter. Stay tuned, folks. This could get ugly.

There's an old man sitting next to me, making love to his tonic & gin
Oh, wait...that's not an old man, that's Simon Cowell. And that's not a tonic & gin, it's Paula Abdul! Or is it Ryan Seacrest? Who knows? Who cares?

Just because I happened to be disillusioned with American Idol after last week's results, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop blogging about it excessively. So here we go...

I knew it would be a good episode when they announced that the first performer of the night would be Kimberly Caldwell, singing "It's Still Rock & Roll to Me." Of course, the first line of this song is "What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?" Oh, Kimberly. Where do we start? When you look worse than both Ryan Seacrest (who, strangely enough, looked not only normal but almost-gasp!-boring) and Paula Abdul, it's not good. Have you been taking fashion advice from your buddy Julia again? Not a good idea.

Apparently Julia's also gotten to Carmen "The Goat" Rasmusen, because her outfit was just as hideous as her performances have been. To this point, the only thing Carmen had going for her was that she knew how to dress, at least compared to the other contestants (which, granted, isn't saying much). But her wardrobe has gradually been reaching levels of annoyance previously only attained by the Seacrest/Abdul/DeMato fashion-victim triumvirate. First the gold lame pants, then the camo-miniskirt/granny-boots combo. I can't even describe what she was wearing last night. You had to see it to believe it. And that huge butterfly on her head during her clip show? Not even Sarah Jessica Parker could pull that one off. Can we get this girl off the show, please???

So Billy Joel: What an ass. Wow. You know, I really like Billy Joel and have a great fondness for many of his songs. But he just came off as a total prick last night. If I had to hear him say, "That song just wrote itself," one more time, I was going to throw something at the TV. Then there was the part where he went on and on about how important it is for singers to be able to play an instrument--yet if he does indeed watch the show as much as he claims to, he would know it's a talent competition for people who specifically don't play instruments. I agreed with what he was saying, but I just thought that, in this context, it came off as quite a rude thing to say. Not to mention the way he scoffed, "Good luck," before Josh went out to sing "Piano Man." Dude, I've sung that song in a karaoke bar. It ain't that complicated.

I'd always held Billy Joel in my mind as a famous person who had not aged well. Until I saw Smokey Robinson. Wow. He should sue whoever did that to his face. In fact, it seems that the only guest judge they've had on the show who actually looks better than he did when he was actually famous and didn't have to pimp himself on American Idol to garner publicity was Lionel Ritchie. American Idol: The Show Where No One Ages Gracefully. I don't even want to think about what Seacrest will look like in 20 years.

On to Simon: For the most part, I think he relishes being unnecessarily harsh and completely unhelpful in his comments, as that is the character that the show wants him to portray. But last night, I actually thought everything that Simon said had merit. Instead of just telling people, "That was dreadful" or dishing out insults right and left, he actually gave "constructive criticism," which is probably what the judges should be doing every week. Yet the audience still boos EVERY negative thing ANYONE says about ANY contestant, and frankly, it is starting to get on my nerves. I did find it funny, however, that Simon is apparently less sexy than SpongeBob SquarePants, although I found it disturbing that he actually pulled down said square pants when Ryan tossed him the SpongeBob toy. Of course, Ryan had probably already violated SpongeBob backstage, so I guess Simon didn't do any more harm.

Finally, it's time for a segment I like to call "Funny Billy Joel Moment." This week's Funny Billy Joel Moment occurred when I was talking to Diana about one of our friends from college who is now working at a real-estate magazine.

Clare: Oh, that's just like in "Piano Man," you know that line about "so-and-so is a real-estate novelist." I have never understood that line. I mean, what the heck is a real-estate novel? Who would actually read a work of fiction about real estate??

Diana: Um, I always thought it meant he was in real estate, but wanted to be a novelist.

Clare: Oh my God, that makes so much more sense!

Question: Is Monica Lewinsky really the person you want to turn to for dating advice? It's better than Linda Tripp, I guess.

Have blog, get presents
When I wrote about my funky towel last week, I was in no way trying to solicit towels from my friends. But Chase took pity on my plight anyway, and I received a lovely caustic and sensual "Night Shadow Rhapsody" (aka purple) towel in the mail yesterday. Of course, after I wrote about the funky towel, I realized just how dire the situation had gotten and went to Target myself a few days later to purchase a new towel. So now I have not one, but two new towels, bringing the towel total to three. Three! This means not only can I rotate the towels each laundry day, but I can also have a spare clean towel for guests so they don't have to bring their own towels. Still, if you're coming to visit me, don't hold out for a washcloth. I don't do washcloths, prefering instead to splash my face with water. It makes me feel like Rebecca Gayheart in those early-90s Noxema commercials.

Another update: My boycott of the vending machine lasted all of two days, neither of which count because they were Saturday and Sunday, when I was nowhere near the vending machine. That's right, I caved in to the pressure of the vending machine yesterday. What can I say? I eat breakfast at 6:30, and my lunch break is not until noon. That's an awful long time to last on just a bowl of Special K. If I don't have a snack, I get so hungry that I actually feel sick, and then when it is time for me to eat, I can't. Today I brought a packet of Gushers to allay my M&M's cravings, which I managed to polish off before it was even 9:00. I'm beginning to crave the M&M's just writing about them...

Even though I write about reality TV a great deal on this blog, I usually don't write anything about the Real World/Road Rules [Product-Placed] Battle of the Sexes because it is such an inconsequential show that they don't even cover it on TWoP. (My friend Sallie's boyfriend, a former film student, thinks it is the best show on television. We're not really sure why.) Anyway, I feel that the time has come for me to say something about Battle of the Sexes, or more specifically, the product-placed Ion Lifesaver. First of all, the Ion Lifesaver is not even good product placement because it doesn't include the name of the company. I'm sure we can all figure out that the name refers to the Saturn Ion, thanks to the Saturn Ion commercials at every commercial break. But you never know. Some people are stupid.

The purpose of the Ion Lifesaver is that the person who holds it can save themselves or someone else from going home. For the first several weeks, the Ion didn't actually save anyone. It was just symbolic, which is OK...but what's the point? Now that they're getting down to the last few weeks of the competition, the Ion is being forced to serve its actual purpose of saving people. And everyone is freaking out! Last week, when Shane gave Genesis the Ion after the girls had voted her off, everyone was like, What the heck is Shane doing?? Um, I would say he's using the Ion for its intended purpose. Of course, if someone is actually saved, the Inner Circles have to go back and deliberate about who they're going to kick off. Shouldn't there be some kind of Ion policy that if the person you voted off gets the Ion, then the person with the next lowest score should go home? Someone really should have thought this Ion thing through a little more.

Unfortunately, there was no Ion to save Rickey Smith. Bri and I were so disillusioned with last week's American Idol results that we can't even bring ourselves to think of an anti-Carmen strategy. Short of a major cable/power/phone outage across the state of Utah, I really don't see anything that can end her reign of terror. Not even bleating her way through Blondie could get her kicked off the show! It's hopeless, people! Like Nikki McKibbin (not a word, Doug) she has evil forces on her side that we are not strong enough to resist. I personally plan to just sit here and wait for her inevitable crappy single to start hitting the airwaves.

Nooooooooo!
My greatest fear has been realized. The fear of which I speak, of course, is the fear that when I put my 60 cents in the vending machine, my snack will somehow get stuck in the vending machine mechanism and fail to drop down, leaving me with three options: 1) Try to physically abuse the machine until it gives me my snack, 2) Put more money in and end up with two of the same item or 3) Pout, and then glare at the next person who goes to buy M&Ms and thinks it's their freakin' lucky day because they got two packages of M&M's for the price of one. Little do they know that my hard-earned 60 cents paid for those M&Ms!

Usually, Option 2 is my first choice, because I am not strong enough to have much physical influence over the machine and just feel like an idiot trying to shake anything loose from it. Even though Option 2 involves spending an extra 60 cents, you usually somehow end up with two packets of M&M's, so it all works out: I can put one in my drawer for a rainy day. However, today, I just happened to spend the last few coins in my wallet on the package of M&Ms that is now stuck in the machine. So not only do I not have any M&Ms, I also wasted two very valuable quarters that could have gone toward my laundry fund!

It seems then that I am relegated to Option 3, as you might have guessed. Damn you, vending machine! I think this is God's way of telling me to stop eating M&M's from the vending machine every day. So today marks the start of my vending-machine boycott. Take that, vending machine!

TWoP seems to support my theory that we should make Carmen the next American Idol out of spite and/or revenge:

So here's the deal: Television has been feeding us tripe for decades and telling us it's what we want. The ratings prove it! So, you know, let's turn the tables on them. For some reason unknown to any logic-based mind, the dark forces behind American Idol are insistent on doing whatever it takes to convince us that the massively untalented Carmen is a star in the making. So I say, let's give her to them. Vote for Carmen! Repeatedly! Weekly! Let them try to make a silk purse out of a goat's ear! And unlike the sense of dread we feel whenever Kelly (deleted) is trotted out to sing some wretched, bland piece of inconsequential pop, we can enjoy watching everybody involved fail. So vote for Carmen! Vote for Carmen and teach these folks the meaning of "Be careful what you wish for." Who's with me?

My alliance co-conspirators, however, seem to disagree. The Tyrant is threatening to move to Peru if Carmen and KC are the last ones standing. Bri has risked looking "losery" (her term) by posting an anti-Carmen strategy on the American Idol message boards. However, I have yet to decide which would be worse: Having to watch an actually talented performer sing the crap that Simon Cowell's minions seem to come up with or having to watch Carmen on my TV week after week. It's a tough choice, but it does raise the question: If we eliminate everyone we hate, who will we have to bitch about?

All good things must come to an end...
Including, apparently, the powerful blog alliance, which (as Chase has already gleefully reported) was unsuccessful in getting Carmen booted off the show. In fact, she wasn't even in the bottom three! And Rickey ultimately was the one kicked off the show. How in the world did this happen? I blame the unusual voting process that carried over last week's votes to this week. I blame Rickey's sunglasses discrepancy. I blame the mystical force that is somehow keeping Carmen in the competition, though we all know she can't sing. Perhaps she's stopped sleeping with Simon so she can sleep with the millions of Americans who keep voting for her each week. Finally, I blame Chase, whose blog apparently has powers that I doubted, as it was able to keep the horrible Kimberly Caldwell in the competition for another week. Still, the powerful blog alliance was good while it lasted. We were able to get Julia DeMato and Corey Clark out of the competition, and for that I am grateful.

All in all, I have to say that I wasn't completely disappointed in the outcome of last night. Not because I don't like Rickey; in fact, for just the opposite reason. I'll admit that I wasn't a big Rickey fan to begin with, but as Bri, a die-hard Rickey fan, explained his merits, Rickey began to grow on me. I said last week how I didn't want Clay to win because he would have to put his career in the hands of Simon Cowell--and from last night's performance by Kelly Clarkson and a promo of her new movie, we all know what a bunch of cheesy crap the winner's career is going to entail. I wouldn't wish that on any performer I actually like, including Rickey. The way I see it, he's lucky he got out when he did.

Perhaps we've been going about this all wrong. Perhaps we should be taking out our favorites (Ruben, Clay, Kimberley Locke) in order to save them from the horrible career that is sure to befall the American Idol winner. In fact, rather than taking Carmen out of the competition, we should be trying to make her the winner. We already know that the AI winner is going to be forced to suck eventually, and Carmen already does suck! It's perfect! Perhaps our best revenge on Carmen is that she be doomed to a life of singing songs like "A Moment Like This" and "Miss Independent."

After American Idol, I was highly disappointed in reality TV, and during The Bachelor and Sorority Life, I almost swore it off altogether (really!). First, on The Bachelor, I was upset when it looked like Liz (who is my favorite contestant so far, based on the fact that she doesn't look like the cookie-cutter Bachelor contestant, but not in that way like, "Look at me! I'm not the cookie-cutter Bachelor contestant!") wasn't going to get a rose. Plus, there was the fact that Tina from Tennessee (who is WAY too aggressive and, I could swear, a lesbian) and brunette Christina (who is desperate and annoying) did get roses. Thank God Andrew gave his last rose to Liz, or I would have had to stop watching. (OK, not really, but I definitely would have yelled at my television for a good five minutes.)

Then on Sorority Life, Brooke depledged and Karissa threatened to, which seriously would have been enough to have made me stop watching the show. That would have made Nicole the only non psycho-obsessed pledge left, and I find her a little too annoying to be the ONLY saving grace on the show. Fortunately, Brooke came back AND got bitchy with Maggie, Julia and MacKenzie. Woo hoo!

I really can't stand Earl on Fraternity Life, but it looks like he's not going anywhere. Did anyone else think that Earl's stripper girlfriend--the one that Tim was making so much fun of--looked an awful lot like Nicole? And also an awful lot like Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing? Hmm...

Quotes of the Night
From The Bachelor:
"I don't drink!" --Amber, right before she pukes in the toilet as a result of drinking too much champagne

From Fraternity Life:
Earl (looking at giant hickey on neck): "Is it noticeable?"
Alex (looking at Earl like he's the stupidest person alive, which he might just be): "Is it noticeable?!"

Update: I am not crazy
At least not when it comes to the whole Rickey/sunglasses thing. Bri has actual tangible evidence of this fact, as I discovered in an e-mail from her this morning:

Now, I love Rickey. But something was amiss last night, and I need to do further research on this to make sure. As I was watching his performance last night, I was concentrating so much on the vocals (and the awful hat) that I didn't notice other aspects of the outfit. When I watched the recap at the end of the show, I noticed in Rickey's performance blurb that he had these idiotic tinted glasses on. Now, I was thinking that he wasn't wearing those in the performance, but maybe I had just forgotten. Well, I had the show taped, so I went back to watch his full performance. NO GLASSES. I do not know WHERE that recap clip came from. Maybe a rehearsal?? WHO KNOWS??? I am kind of concerned about this--why are they showing clips of performances that aren't the real deal?? WHAT IS GOING ON????

Indeed, something is rotten in the state of American Idol. Fear not, loyal readers; we shall get to the bottom of this!

What did you think I would do at this moment
When Carmen got up on stage and tried to freakin' sing Blondie?! What? The hell? Was she thinking? That little pop tart (props to Chase for that term) had better be glad we're sending her home tonight before Debbie Harry tracks her down and beats her ass into a pulp. Apparently, Carmen is now denying Simon the hot Mormon love, as he seemed to finally realize last night what the rest of us have known for weeks: Commercial or not, Carmen sucks. Buh-bye, Carmen. It's been real.

Is it just me, or did Kim Caldwell look especially like a drag queen last night? It kind of makes me wonder about Chase's crush on her...could he be batting for Ryan Seacrest's team? (Kidding! Don't kill me.) Before last night, I was torn between Kimberly and Josh as our next target for destruction, but now my decision is certain. Josh totally redeemed himself from the horror of last week, proving that he should be allowed to stay for at least one more week. Kimberly Caldwell, prepare to be eliminated! Mwaaaahahahaha!

Those of you who still doubted the power of the blog alliance, witness exhibit C: Ruben Studdard. The Tyrant had previously complained about the lack of variety in Ruben's wardrobe, but I, being a resident of the 205, defended his clothing choices. However, last week on the blog, I told Ruben I was getting tired of the 205 shirts. And last night he didn't wear one! Coincidence? I think not. (By the way, I finally solved the riddle of where I can get my own 205 shirt. Embarrassingly enough, the shop is actually only a few blocks from my apartment. Bri and I plan to make a trip there to purchase some fine 205 wear when she comes to visit in a few weeks.)

Again, is it just me, or did Clay seem to be wearing lip gloss last night? If so, this only makes me love him more. I am a huge fan of lip gloss.

I swear I am not going crazy. Did anyone else notice that Rickey was mysteriously wearing sunglasses in the clip show recapping his performance, whereas he was not wearing sunglasses during the original performance? Or was he? Am I actually going crazy? I don't think so. Something fishy is going on here...

Also, what was Julia DeMato doing back in the audience? I thought I made it clear that she and her offending outfits were to be kept off my television screen! Security!

If Old Navy was really as cool as they think they are, they would change their ad slogan to "Old Navy: Where American Idols Shoplift."

And finally, what is up with Simon insulting Lionel Ritchie? Does anyone else think it is way beyond the bounds of decency to criticize the guest judge? Perhaps Lionel was unwilling to sleep with Simon, which appears to be the only way to garner his good judgment.

Smoooooooothie of the Week
I have always been a fan of smoothies. To me, blended fruit just seems very sublime for some reason. Plus, there is the lure of putting whole fruit and juice in the blender and watching it transform before your very eyes. It's almost magical.

For some reason, though, I did not own a blender until last year. I purchased it for the sole purpose of making a smoothie that I had seen in Real Simple. This was the beginning of a lifelong love affair with the smoothie. To support my new addiction, my wonderful roommate Diana bought me "The Smoothies Deck," a deck of cards with smoothie recipes and beautiful, well-lit pictures of said smoothies. There are all kinds of smoothies in the smoothies deck, from healthy fruit recipes to alcoholic recipes such as sangria (which is very, very good...just ask Kate) to dessert recipes with chocolate, ice cream and other good things.

My smoothie addiction waned during the winter due to the lack of available fruit. But now it is spring, and the fruit is back--and so are the smoothies. I have decided to pick a healthy, fruit-based smoothie randomly out of the deck to enjoy each week, so I thought I would share these recipes with you, my readers, so you can experience the wonder that is the smoothie. I will also include my review of the smoothie so you'll know which ones to stay away from if you decide to go out and purchase your own smoothies deck (which I highly recommend).

This week's smoothie: Planet Pineapple*

1/2 cup fresh pineapple, frozen**
1 cup vanilla frozen yogurt
1/2 cup light coconut milk
1/2 tablespoon lemon juice

*Makes one smoothie
**You don't have to freeze your fruit, but the deck recommends it. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't.

Smoothie rating: 8. Overall, a very tasty smoothie. Much like a pina colada. It does have the potential to be too sweet. And chopping up the fresh pineapple was a pain in the ass--but probably worth it. I doubt the smoothie would taste as good with canned pineapple. However, if you're short on time, I think it would be OK to substitute canned for fresh.

Stay tuned next week for a brand-new smoothie! Tomorrow: So much for subjects (water, towels, smoothies) to which everyone can relate! The blog shifts back into American Idol mode as we prepare to eject Carmen "Machine Gun" Rasmusen from the competition. Remember everyone, vote for Trenyce tonight! (For the full strategy, see Friday's entry.)

Funky Towel
In high school, my friends and I always used to sing this song that goes, "Funky towel, towel's got the funk!" I think it was from the movie Joe's Apartment, the premise of which was that a guy (that not-that-cute guy who was in the Scream sequels...I think his name is Jerry something) lives in this nasty apartment inhabited by singing, dancing cockroaches. Of course, we never went to see the movie, because who in their right mind is going to pay seven bucks to see a movie about a bunch of singing, dancing cockroaches? Not us, that's for sure. However, that didn't stop us from repeating, ad nauseum, things we saw in the previews.

So although my apartment is not inhabited by singing, dancing cockroaches (thank God), I do actually have a funky towel. Allow me to explain.

First, you must realize that I have only one bath towel. That is my sole towel, other than my kitchen towel and some paper towels (also in the kitchen). Why do I have only one towel? It's a long story. Get ready.

A long, long time ago (junior year), when I moved into my first apartment, I had no towels. I moved into the apartment a week before Diana, my roommate, did because I could no longer stand to live at home and rushed back to school at the first available opportunity. Not wanting to buy a whole set of towels for the bathroom of our new apartment without consulting Diana (this was back when I harbored the notion that she actually cared about such things), I just bought this one cheap blue towel from Target. It was a piece of crap, but it worked well enough. When Diana bought some purple hand towels for the bathroom, I took it as a sign that she thought purple should be our color scheme, so I went out and bought myself one purple towel. It was a Martex Royal Legacy Egyptian cotton towel from Target, which is a great towel. Why did I not buy more? I guess I reasoned that I always had the cheap blue towel as a back-up.

Then one day I realized that I needed another towel because the blue one just wasn't cutting it as a back-up. I returned to Target and bought a yellow Martex Royal Legacy Egyptian cotton towel, and then decided to redecorate my whole bathroom in a Hawaiian motif, inspired by the sunny yellow towel. However, I still kept the purple towel and would alternate between the two so that neither got too funky between laundry periods.

This system worked until I moved into my new apartment, where I have a window air conditioner. The thing with the window air conditioner is that when it rains, the rain drips off the air conditioner above mine and onto mine with a loud "ping" that sounds like hail hitting it. Repeatedly. This drives me crazy and keeps me up at night. It was a problem I had in my old apartment, too, but there, fortunately, I had a couch that I could go sleep on if the noise got too bad. Now I live in a studio, so there is nowhere I can escape, short of the bathtub. Believe me, I have considered it.

Anyway, the good thing about this apartment is that there are no screens on the windows ("good" in this case, but "bad" if a bird happens to fly in), so I can reach out and put things on top of the air conditioner to eliminate the "ping"ing. One of the first nights in my new apartment, I decided it would be a good idea to put my back-up purple towel on the air conditioner, reasoning that the heavy rain would eventually soak it, and then the wind wouldn't be able to blow it away. (Keep in mind that it was four in the morning and I was half asleep at the time.)

Needless to say, I seriously underestimated either the wind or the rain, because when I woke up the next morning, the towel was gone. I looked out my window, all around the Methodist Church parking lot that is behind my building, but I did not see the towel anywhere. I figured the wind must have blown it to the far reaches of the city. (Incidentally, I was gazing out my window the other day and saw the towel lying on the ground directly below my air conditioner. I decided not to go get it, as it had been three months since it blew away and was probably covered in bird crap.)

Anyway, when the purple towel disappeared, I was unemployed and so broke that I could not justify the $8 that a new Martex Royal Legacy Egyptian cotton towel would cost. So I had to make do with the one towel, which wouldn't be so bad. Except the towel hangs on the back of my bathroom door where I can't see it unless I am in the bathroom with the door closed. Consequently, I always forget to put it in the laundry basket on laundry days. But Clare, you say, why don't you toss it in the laundry after you use it, if you know you're going to be doing laundry the next day? The thing is, I never really know when I'm going to be doing laundry. Laundry day can only come about when everything is aligned--I have enough quarters, I have an hour or two to kill, and I know no one else will be monopolizing the washers and dryers downstairs. I never know when all of these circumstances will align. Therefore, the decision to do laundry is almost spontaneous. And week after week, I forget to include the towel in this spontaneous laundry-day decision.

But Clare, you say, why don't you just by a new towel? You have a job now, so certainly you can spare $8. Indeed I can, but it's like there's a black hole in my brain where the towel is concerned. Just as I consistently forget to put it in the wash, when I am at the Super Target doing my weekly grocery shopping, the towel is the farthest thing from my mind. Then I will get home and go into the bathroom, see the towel and go "Ohhhh!" I guess I could make a special trip to Target just for the towel, but I hate to do that when I spend so much time there as it is.

So it seems that I am doomed to my funky towel for yet another week. Hopefully I will remember to either wash it or buy a new one next week, but I can't make any promises.

H-2-Nooooo
So I realize that I have spent way too much time blogging about American Idol this week and in general. I mean, the name of the blog is not "American Idol Blog." No, the name of the blog is "My Own Planet," which actually has nothing to do with the blog's content and much to do with the B-52s song "Planet Claire." Had you guys figured that out yet? Well, if not, now you know. Also, the color scheme has to do with the line in the song about Planet Claire having red air, which I thought was unusually fitting because red just so happens to be my very favorite color. I just thought I'd get that all out there right now.

Anyway, I feel I may be alienating some of my readers who couldn't care less about American Idol (which seems to be everyone but Bri, Chase, the Tyrant and apparently now Heather). Although I would like to point out that when I talked about things such as Ross on Friends saying "I'll prove it like a theorem!" or animals behind my workplace, no one commented. But really, what can you say about an otter in the lake behind my office? Actually, if you were Justin Heckert, you would tell me a story about this girl you went to school with who had an otter backpack, and she was so cool that she made you want to have an otter backpack, too. But I don't think Justin Heckert reads my blog. Unless he just Googled himself and found the blog. Google thyself, Justin Heckert! Read my blog!

God, what is wrong with me? I cannot sustain a train of thought for more than two seconds. I attribute this to spring fever, and also the fact that it's Friday afternoon. Anyway, back to the subject at hand, which is not American Idol. No, I am going to talk about something that all of my readers have at least some interest in, which would be water.

I have come to the conclusion that no matter what Missy Elliot and every single women's magazine ever say, drinking eight glasses of water a day does not help you lose weight. It just makes you have to pee. A lot. It also might make you crazy, given my current state of mind. It could be all the water. You never know.

However, is it possible that the weight-loss magic doesn't kick in until you've had exactly eight glasses? Because I usually only manage about six. Maybe that's the problem. Eight glasses = weight loss; six glasses = many, many trips to the bathroom.

This week, the loud women who sit behind me at work (aka The Loudies, as I like to call them and probably will call them on this blog in the future because I do not have the patience to type out "the loud women who sit behind me at work" so many times)...where was I, again? Oh yes, The Loudies have embarked on a weight-loss program this week. This program, as far as I can tell, consists of drinking the recommended amount of water each day and walking on the treadmill in our pitiful excuse for an in-office health club for 20 minutes at lunch. So naturally, they have to talk about their weight-loss program all day. (Not that I'm complaining. It is certainly better than some of the topics they choose, and I'm definitely not one to criticize someone for talking too much, especially in my present state of mind.) Anyway, most of these conversations consist of them monitoring each other's water intake and complaining about how difficult it is to drink the eight glasses, which I'm not arguing with. I myself always tire out before I reach the magic number (in this case, eight, not three), just because I am so tired of having to run to the bathroom every five minutes. But they start complaining after the first glass! Oh, Loudies, I want to say, it's not going to work! It's a myth, and possibly a conspiracy between women's magazines and their bottled-water advertisers to rake in the bucks. (Don't ask me how Missy Elliot figures into this equation.) Then again, maybe it will work for them, although I would be willing to bet a good deal of money that they'll never get to the magic eight glasses. Perhaps water just hates me. But why? I have nothing but love for water! I love to swim, and I spend an unusually long time just standing around in the shower because I love water so much. Perhaps it is just a conspiracy among just the drinking water of the world because it knows I'd rather be drinking a Coke.

OK, it's official. I have moved up several levels on the insanity scale from my normal "Clare" level (hovering around a 7, probably) to the "Heather Janes" level of 10. What can I say? I get like this every spring, for some inexplicable reason.

So I know I said this post would not be about American Idol, but I just have to mention this: I went to lunch with some of my co-workers at this little sandwich shop. At the counter, they had not only a drawing of Ruben Studdard (wearing a baseball cap that said "American Idol/Fox" and "Vote Ruben") but also a sign advertising a special sandwich called the "Southern Roooooben." How fortunate is that that he was named after an already tasty sandwich? What if his name had been "Chopped Liver and Brussels Sprouts on Rye"? I'm just saying.

You know, that reminds me of the time my mom was in the hospital having an operation, so my dad and my sister and I went to the hospital cafeteria to eat. As if hospital cafeteria food was not bad in and of itself, my dad actually ordered liver and brussels sprouts. It was like he was making a conscious effort to order the most disgusting food in the entire world.

I'm going to force myself to stop writing now because I could go on like this all day. Seriously. It's frightening.

Strategory
After much debate, Bri and I have finalized our strategy for the next round of American Idol on Tuesday. In order to successfully eliminate Carmen from the competition, we are asking everyone to throw their support to Trenyce.

I know what some of you are thinking. Um, duh. That's so obvious. Why did it require any debate at all? And indeed, it was our initial reaction that formulating a strategy this week would be incredibly simple. However, once we began to fully analyze the situation, we noticed some factors that indicated this might not be the case.

Namely, because of last week's unusual situation, Trenyce's fans already know that she's in the bottom three. We considered the possibility that they might rally in full force to bring her back into the safe zone. Voters that had previously split their votes between Trenyce and other contestants might throw all of their votes to her, meaning that contestants that were close to the bottom three (Kim C., Rickey and Josh, in our estimation) could lose precious votes that would result in their being in the bottom three next week. We also imagined that this same scenario could occur with Carmen. Would her fans, or possibly even pity voters (aka the same idiots who voted for Jim and A.J. last season), come out in force to get her back in the safe zone, possibly at the expense of another contestant? We began to consider a strategy of focusing our votes on Kimberly Caldwell, who we felt was probably fourth from the bottom.

However, after I heard two women in my office talking yesterday about how they had seen something on Access Hollywood about Trenyce's shoplifting conviction and it made them not want to vote for her, we began to re-examine the seemingly inexplicable reasons why Trenyce was in the bottom three. She gave an OK performance -- not her best, but not her worst, either. It was certainly stellar compared to some of the other contestants who were safe. Her outfit was...strange, but not reaching Julia DeMato levels of annoyance. She got good praise from most of the judges, except for Simon. But then again, Simon criticized Clay and Rickey as well, and much more harshly. In short, the shoplifting incident was the only reason we could see why Trenyce had ended up at the bottom. In light of this, we figured that if Trenyce's fans had abandoned her for this reason, they weren't likely to come back and save her this week, even if she pulls out an amazing performance.

So, readers of this blog, we need you to come together and support Trenyce this week, not only in hopes of eliminating Carmen, but also because if you don't, Trenyce will almost assuredly be eliminated. I don't think Trenyce should ultimately be the American Idol, but it is not her time to go. It is Carmen's.

Yesterday on his blog, Chase expressed his sentiments that Trenyce should be ejected from the competition on the basis that she, like Corey, had had criminal charges brought against her. However, as I pointed out to him, there are some big differences between Corey and Trencye, and I'm not just talking about the fact that Trenyce is actually talented. First, Trenyce has already been arrested, convicted and served her punishment. In fact, the incident has been expunged from her records, so legally, it probably shouldn't have even been brought up. (I'm not quite sure about that, though, since I spent a good deal of time in Comm Law writing notes to my friends and imitating Sandy Davidson saying "Oh, my.") Corey's case is still open, and he's scheduled to go before the judge in a few weeks. Furthermore, Trenyce was honest and up-front with the producers about her incident from the start -- if they tried to kick her off now because of it, it would be incredibly hypocritical, and she might even be able to sue them if they did it. (Again, not sure. Can I get some help from Kimberley Locke here?) Corey was booted off not only for his criminal record but also for his dishonesty -- he acknowledged as much in his half-assed apology.

Some people seem to have the idea that contestants in this competition have to be perfect. It's not a totally unrealistic expectation, given that the name of the competition is "American Idol," and ideally, idols should not be taking advantage of the five-finger discount. But people make mistakes. And if they pay for and apologize for those mistakes, I see no reason why we should hold it against them. It's like when I was watching this special on MTV with all the presidential candidates during the primaries in 2000. Chris Connelly (God, I hate that man) was asking all the candidates if they had ever smoked marijuana. And Al Gore was like, "Well, yeah." And Chris Connelly was like, "Whaa?" And Al was like, "Um, hello? It was the '60s." He went on to say that it was a mistake and he probably shouldn't have done it, but he wasn't going to pretend like it didn't happen. Instead, he was going to use that experience to tell people why they shouldn't use drugs. Or something like that. It was a long time ago. Anyway, that's when I decided I was going to vote for Al Gore. (I pretty much was going to anyway, but that's when I REALLY decided). It's totally unrealistic to expect public figures to be absolutely perfect, so I have much more respect for those who are honest and up front about their pasts than those who try to hide the mistakes that they've made.

Wow, I apologize for that lengthy tangent. Back to the strategy. Although our main focus this week will be on Trenyce, Bri and I have decided to keep the Kims on back-up in case Trenyce's fans do in fact rally to support her. Which Kimberly will become our primary back-up will depend on the quality of song choice, outfit and general performance on Tuesday night. Just a guess, but we're expecting Kim L. to fare better than Kim C. Plus, there's little doubt that fans of Kimberley L. are going to try to get her back on the couch. (We've pegged the reason for her downfall on Wednesday as that unflattering outfit she wore on Tuesday. As long as she steers clear of spaghetti straps, she should be fine.)

So here's the plan: Vote for Trenyce. If her line is busy, vote for Kimberly C. If her line is busy (it won't be), vote for Kimberley L. I always like to throw in a few votes for Clay for good measure (and Bri does the same for Rickey), but that's up to you.

Got it? Good. I don't want to have to type all of this again.

Behold the power of the blog
Most of you are probably aware, unless you have been living in a bag, of the powerful alliance that has formed between this blog and the blog of one Cynical Tyrant for the sole purpose of eliminating American Idol contestants that we deem annoying. Last week, we were successful in ridding the world of Julia DeMato. This week, we were able to get Corey Clark kicked off the show through the power of persuasion alone.

Those of you didn't switch over to The Bachelor or The West Wing (does anyone still watch that, really?) last night know that although Trenyce (shock!), Kimberley L. (shock!) and Carmen (delight!) were in the bottom three, no one was eliminated. Lest you think for a minute that the alliance between the Tyrant and myself has faltered, I am here to assure you that it has not. Remember, our target for this week was Corey, who was successfully eliminated. After we found out about Corey's fate on Tuesday, the Tyrant quickly selected Carmen as the next target. I, on the other hand, was a bit more reserved. I was confused as to how the whole thing would play out (would there even be an elimination, I wondered), and it didn't help matters that Bri, my usually calm and rational strategist, was e-mailing me every five minutes going, "What if they bring back Julia DeMato?? What if it's all an April Fool's prank??"

Our camp, as you can see, was in a quandry. It was too late to develop a new strategy, especially considering that we didn't have all the facts in front of us. Plus, was the powerful blog alliance powerful enough to eliminate two contestants in one week? I did not know. Therefore, although I agreed with the Tyrant, I did not target Carmen publicly on my blog. The power only works, of course, if both blogs present a united front against a contestant, and this time, we did not. Therefore, although Carmen came very close to being eliminated (there is no doubt in my mind that she would be gone if they'd decided to do an elimination show), she ultimately is safe...for now. I apologize, America, that you have to endure another week of Carmen's "machine-gun vibrato" (Bri's phrase). Make no mistake about it, though: Next week, she's going down. All the toll-free dialing Mormons in the country are no match for the powerful blog alliance! Mwaaahahahahaha!

Anyway. The alliance with the Tyrant so far only extends to American Idol, and so my blog's control over my other Wednesday-night reality shows has been spotty at best.

The Bachelor seemed to be a success. I told the girls that if they said stupid stuff like, "What I look for in a husband is cute dimples," they would be packing their bags. Sure enough, last night, Stephanie comes out with, "Andrew is everything I'm looking for in a husband--he's tall, and he has dark hair and blue eyes." Did Stephanie get a rose last night? I don't think so.

Fraternity and Sorority Life seem to be getting mixed messages, from what I've seen on the previews for next week. Brooke, you are supposed to depledge, but not so soon! And Earl, you're supposed to hook up with Maggie, not a stripper. The whole getting-laid-and-becoming-less-annoying plan doesn't work if it's just you. I'll take what I can get, though.

Quotes of the Night
I couldn't pick just one.

From The Bachelor:
Christina: "You shoot birds?!"
Andrew: "Well, um...only the ugly ones."
(Did anyone else think this was a metaphor?)

From Fraternity Life (I'm not sure who said what, exactly):
Tim/Alex/Steve: "They're painting our bricks!"
Alex/Steve/Tim (slightly whiny): "Dude, why don't we get to paint stuff?"

An Idol recap
Remember the time on Friends that Ross tried to play "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang on the bagpipes? Yeah, that was not nearly as painful as Josh's countrified rendition of the song last night. Nor was the time that my friend Scott and I, in 8th grade, made up new lyrics to the song for our Beta Club to sing in front of hundreds of people at the annual state Beta Convention. (In case you're wondering, the song went, "Celebrate your mind, c'mon! Let's create! It's time to come together; it's up to you, what's your treasure? Everyone around the school, c'mon!" It took more work than you would imagine.)

Trenyce looked like she just stepped off the set of Kids Incorporated, but somehow it worked for her. I think she's part of that two percent of the population that looks good in orange. In case you didn't read yesterday's comments, Holly has informed us that Trenyce's arrest stemmed from a shoplifting violation at Old Navy. That is freaking hilarious. The only thing that would've been funnier is if she had fled the scene in a Ford vehicle while drinking a Coke.

Even I, a resident of the 205, am getting tired of Ruben's wardrobe. However, that does not keep me from wondering where I can buy my very own 205 T-shirt. I asked my boss yesterday if she had seen any around town. She had not. Oh, the enigma of the 205 shirt!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Simon is either already sleeping with Carmen or desperately wants to be. Each week, Paula and Randy (quite rightly) criticize her, while Simon constantly praises her. You know something's going on when Paula's the mean one and Simon's the nice one. Last night, Simon told Carmen that she is the most "commercial" contestant they have. Which she is, if you're going by Simon's limited definition of what's marketable. Which brings me to my next point...

You all know how much I love Clay. I even proposed marriage to him right here on the blog! (An answer is still pending.) That's why I really hope he doesn't win. Simon has proven yet again that his concept of "American idol" extends no further back than Mariah Carey. To me, Clay has the gentlemanly nature of Frank Sinatra, the stage presence of Elvis and the geekiness of Buddy Holly all in one package. These are three of America's most notable idols, and, you will notice, not one of them is a tiny, heavily made-up blond girl. Unfortunately, Simon doesn't seem to understand any concept of marketability outside the Britney/Christina realm, and so I shudder to think what would happen if Clay won the competition and was forced to put his career in Simon's hands. That said, I do hope he gets far enough to land a record contract with a label that actually understands him.

Did anyone else think Rickey's fro wig was a shout-out to Corey? I did. I'm so glad that that non-apology was the last we'll ever have to see of Mr. Clark and/or his nipples.

Ryan Seacrest: Coming out of the closet, one inch at a time. Perhaps by the end of this season, he can finally disclose his true love for Dunkleman, the two can run off into the sunset together, and the show can finally get a non-annoying host.

Kimberley Locke gets major props for not only singing my favorite song, "It's Raining Men," but also for doing a much, much better job with it than Kelly Clarkson did last year. You rock, Kimberley Locke. (I did not mean for that to rhyme. Really.)

I do not have a crush on Kimberly C., either, and I'm slightly embarrassed to know someone who does.

Now for tonight's prediction: For some reason, I fear Rickey is going to be voted off. I've never been a big Rickey fan, but I've supported him because he's one of Bri's favorite contestants. I don't think he deserves to win, but I know he doesn't deserve to go out now. However, last night was one of Carmen's better performances; plus, she has the support of Simon. (Just another note while we're on the subject of Carmen: I thought the only person in the world who actually owned a pair of shiny gold pants was my high-school history teacher, but apparently I was wrong.) I still maintain that people will vote for Josh (even after that cringe-inducing performance last night) because they figure it's patriotic to support the Marine. Clay, Ruben, Kimberley L. and Trenyce will all be safe. That means either Kimberly C. or Rickey is going to bite the big one tonight. Both gave so-so performances, and both were in the bottom three last time (when their performances were comparitively much better). While I'd much rather see Kimberly C. get voted off, I have an awful feeling that it's going to be Rickey. I hope I'm wrong. (I usually am when I try to predict things on my blog.)

Animal planet
So I decided to take advantage of the weather being nice again and eat my lunch outside by the lake behind my office. After I was finished eating, I walked down to the retaining wall that looks out onto the entire lake to try and soak up some serenity. As I looked down at the water, I noticed several small fish swimming in the shallow water right below the wall. I thought this was pretty cool, until I looked over to my right and spotted four turtles sunning themselves on a log. Just as a I was marveling at the turtles, an otter swam right by them. As I was watching the otter swim across the lake, a duck flew right above it. I eventually turned my attention back to the otter and happened to notice a goose nesting right below where I was standing. It was then that I decided to come back inside, as the wildlife seemed to be getting progressively bigger and closer, and I feared that any minute a deer would walk up behind me and start gnawing on my sleeve.

Even I, having spotted a variety of wildlife in my driveway at home, including deer, a turkey and a mole, was surprised by this Disney-esque assortment of wildlife behind my workplace. It's like I'm working in a freaking zoo.

If that's not living like a pop star, I don't know what is
My power to control reality TV through the medium of my blog has reached a scary new level, as I have managed to get Corey Clark booted off American Idol even before he had the chance to assault the American public tonight with his high-pitched shrieking and fashions (mesh shirt!) that would make even Julia DeMato cringe. Or, you know, the producers decided that beating your little sister is not exactly "pop star" behavior. Being a convicted felon, on the other hand, apparently is "pop star" behavior. And you thought Trenyce was doing the one-name thing to seem more like a diva.