My Own Planet

Whoa...deja vu
Doug was right yet again. Not just right, scarily accurate. He even predicted that Linda wouldn't show up. Of course, given Linda's history of being spineless, that probably wasn't such a long shot. But still, Doug, I'm impressed. I was sure Cat was the winner, right up until David came out with, "Uh, like, I don't mean this bad, but, like, Cat, I, uh, didn't choose you." Man, what eloquence. Cat is extremely lucky to have escaped a lifetime of awkward and stilted conversations.

Also, was it just me, or could everything in that finale have been shown in about 30 minutes? The 10-minute "David and Paul Stare at a Door" montage was probably the worst reality-TV filler I've seen in my life--and, as you all know, I've seen a lot of reality-TV filler.

Anyway, enough of that. I've got to get back home to catch up on all the episodes of The Real World: Paris I've missed before the finale tonight. And let's not forget the American Idol Christmas special. God, it's good to be home. I'm so glad my parents have a satellite dish.

Once again, I'm glad I don't bet on reality TV
And once again, Doug has proved a source of infinite wisdom. I, on the other hand, fell squarely into ABC's trap yet again. Shame on me! It's a good thing I've tapped Doug to be my co-producer when I someday launch my reality-TV empire.

Sadly, I was not able to actually watch the season finale. I was out enjoying some fabulous French food and fine wine--on someone else's tab, no less. And as I pointed out on Doug's blog earlier today, there aren't many things, in my mind, that can trump an evening of quality reality television. But free food and booze happens to be one of them.

Fortunately, I was able to glean everything I needed to know from The Miami Herald. Kelly Jo cried (of course); Bob didn't actually propose (shocking!). In fact, from this story, it seems that Bob delivered to Estella the very same speech that I myself had planned on delivering to Bob in the event that I actually went on The Bachelor and was faced with his proposal. You know, the whole, "Look, I think you're great, but we really need to test our love in the real world before we make this kind of commitment," etc. Of course, my speech was intended in all seriousness. Bob is probably just realizing there's a large percentage of girls in America he hasn't yet slobbered on and therefore doesn't want to tie himself down.

I don't have any travel plans for the next couple of weeks, so you can bet I'll be tuning in for the obligatory aftermath special, as well as the big Trista-Ryan nuptial event. And with any luck, I'll be able to catch the finale in reruns on ABC Family when I'm home for Thanksgiving. Bring on the baby-talking 30-year-olds!

It's official; I am now certifiably insane
As if everything I mentioned above wasn't enough, I have now agreed to take on a contract project for another magazine. But it sounds pretty easy, and they're going to pay me $300 to do it, so how could I refuse?

Bring on the stress!
Last week, my boss announced her resignation. Friday is her last day. So what this means is that, until they hire someone else (God knows when that will be), I get to do all of her work. As an added bonus, I get to do all of the work of our associate editor, who left two months ago and still has not been replaced. But wait, it gets even better! Our field editor (who was writing, on average, one feature story for all three magazines each month) was reassigned to a new magazine a few months ago, and, as far as I can tell, they've just decided not to replace him. Basically, I'm going to be running three magazines with my only help being one intern who can't spell. Fabulous! This is going to be the least fun I've ever had in my entire life!

With that, I should probably get back to work, even though I still technically have a full 15 minutes left in my lunch hour. Sigh.

Joe Overload
Last night, I watched three straight hours of Joe-centric reality TV. First, a full two hours of Joe Millionaire, a show whose new goal seems to be compressing an entire series into the shortest amount of time while still using as much filler as humanly possible. Not that there has been much filler up to this point. But just wait! You know there will be. I'm not entirely sure what the point of showing two episodes a week is. I mean, sure, FOX can dominate the ratings two nights in one week or, in its new incarnation, for two straight hours on one night. But without changing the pace of the show at all, that means the entire thing is over in like four weeks. If it were me, I would want to stretch it out a little. But, as we have already established elsewhere, I am not a reality-TV producer. Yet.

I capped off this marathon session of Joe Millionaire with an episode of Average Joe, which had been recommended to me with some abivalence by several people (particularly these two reality dating-show connoisseurs). I wonder what it says about me that, upon seeing the Average Joes, I found at least half of them completely dateable and in fact fell in love with at least one or two on the spot. I hope it says that I'm a much less shallow person than most people on reality TV. What it probably says is that I have strange taste in men, which is true. The whole male-model thing really doesn't do it for me.

Last night, I dreamt that I had a job answering phones for Hillary Clinton. The job itself wasn't that great, aside from the obvious perk of getting to answer the phone, "Hillary Clinton's office." I think I had some of my friends and family call me at work just so they could hear me answer the phone that way. Anyway, at one point during the day, Hillary decided she was going to take all of her assistants (me and a couple of other random girls) to get a soda. She knew of some way that we could get soda out of the vending machine without having to pay for it, but we would have to go outside. So we all piled onto this cart (similar to the ones you see driving around in airports) and set off in search of free soda. We stopped midway down a hill, because Hillary wanted to get out and see if this was where she could in fact get the free soda. I guess I was supposed to be watching the cart so it didn't roll away, but either I didn't know that or I forgot to do it, and the cart went careening down the hill and crashed into Hillary, who let out a yelp and fell to the ground. Horrified, I ran down the hill and began apologizing profusely and asking if she was OK. She said she was fine, but in that really bitchface way that means, "I'll be OK, but I am sooooo pissed at you right now."

The moral of this story? Do not let any runaway carts steamroll Hillary Clinton. She really does not like it.

Mrow!, Part Deux
And to think, I once thought American women were catty and vindictive. But man, they've got nothing on the Europeans! Last night on Joe Millionaire, the women decided they didn't like the fact that David was paying so much attention to Linda. So they gave her the good ol' Lee Ann freeze-out until she got so hurt that she actually left. Just picked up and left, even though she herself admitted that she was starting to have feelings for David. Girl, grow a spine! It's not like they all went into a locked room and wrote your name on a notecard to indicate that you were the least compatible with David. I mean, as we have seen on The Bachelor, that is pretty much the worst thing one girl on a reality dating show could do to another girl on a reality show. Well, that and trying to woo the eligible bachelor with a feather boa, which is apparently the unforgivable sin Lee Ann committed that made everyone turn on her. All I'm saying is, Linda could've had it a lot worse.

In the previews for next week, it seems that the girls are drunk with power over the success of the Lee Ann freeze-out plan and now decide to turn on Cat, as we see Olinda decreeing their official battle cry. ("Cat's a ho, and she needs to go!") Ooh, I can't wait! This is what has been wrong with reality TV up to this point. Not enough catty, vindictive European women! Thank God Joe Millionaire came along to correct this problem.

Two for one
On Saturday night, Sallie and I decided to go see Intolerable Cruelty. We bought a ticket for the 7:00 show and, when we got to the theater five minutes before the movie was to start, were surprised to find that it was already packed. As we waited for the movie to start, we heard the guy in front of us say something about a sneak preview to the person sitting next to him. We knew something must be amiss, since we were pretty sure Intolerable Cruelty had been out for at least a few weeks. Our suspicions were confirmed when the movie started. Even though we had paid for a ticket to the 7:05 showing of Intolerable Cruelty and walked into the theater that had Intolerable Cruelty on the marquee, we were watching a sneak preview of Love Actually. I, for one, was ecstatic, since I had been dying to see Love Actually even more than I had been dying to see Intolerable Cruelty, so we stayed where we were.

After the sneak preview was over, Sallie and I decided to stay for the 9:00 showing of Intolerable Cruelty. We felt justified in doing this, as it was the movie we had actually paid to attend. Plus, as I pointed out, the theater we went to often does free sneak previews, so there was a good chance we weren't cheating them out of any money. The couple sitting behind us seemed to have the same idea--but they were the only ones. I suppose the rest of the audience knew what they were getting into, and the four of us were the only ones who got a surprise sneak preview before our actual film. A couple of ushers came in to clean the theater while we were sitting there, but they didn't say anything to us. So we got to see two movies we really wanted to see for the price of one! Not bad at all.

Love Actually was by far my favorite of the two films. In fact, I'm glad we got the surprise sneak preview; otherwise, I might have been disappointed in having forked over my hard-earned $7.75. It was an excellent film. Funny yet tender, and heartwarming without being sappy. It's the perfect holiday film--even Sallie and I, who moments before were complaining about the onslaught of Christmas propaganda so soon after Halloween, were feeling quite Christmasy by the time the movie was over.

I advise you all to go see it when it comes out next weekend. Kate will appreciate yet another scene involving Colin Firth jumping into a lake. Dave will appreciate the five-minute-long video montage of nothing but Keira Knightley's face. Heather and Hannah will appreciate the storyline in which a British guy, figuring he'll have better luck with the ladies in America, sets off for Wisconsin. As for the rest of you--well, if you can't appreciate Colin Firth, Keira Knightley and references to the great state of Wisconsin, then there's something seriously wrong with you.

I thought Intolerable Cruelty was just OK. I had pretty high expectations going into it, what with George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones being two of my favorite actors. I expected their chemistry to be amazing, but it was just...OK. Plus, I realized that I just don't like the Coen brothers George Clooney. I mean, the Coen brothers have said themselves (in an interview that I read recently, but I can't remember where) that they like to make George Clooney look stupid. I'm not really a fan of the silly George Clooney. I like my George Clooney swank and smooth, like George Clooney is supposed to be. (Think Ocean's Eleven.) Consequently, I spent most of the night wondering if I shouldn't push Hugh Grant to the top of my marriage proposal list. I also spent a good bit of the night getting very, very excited for the release of Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, which will feature Colin Firth, Hugh Grant and George Clooney. Now that is sure to be a great movie.

They said it couldn't be done.
Actually, no one explicitly said that it would be impossible for me to move out of my old apartment and into a new one in just five hours, but it was more than implied in the many raised eyebrows I got when telling my story to several different people.

Yes, dear readers, I am alive! The move went more smoothly than I could have even imagined. In fact, I had everything out of my old apartment and had turned in my keys by 3:30--a full hour and a half before the deadline. The movers were actually early (EARLY!) and very, very expedient. (I highly recommend Bob's Moving Company for all your moving needs.) When we arrived at my new apartment 10 minutes before we were supposed to, not only had all of the previous tenant's stuff been removed (I still do not know when or how), but my landlord was already there and had finished cleaning the room into which I was to move my furniture. Plus, I got a brand-new fridge and stove, and he's going to come back in a few weeks and tile my shower wall and put in a new sink and toilet.

Since I didn't look at the apartment all that closely before I decided to take it, there were a few surprises waiting for me when I arrived. First, I discovered that only three of the windows in the entire apartment actually have blinds. So it seems that I can either invest in some curtains or become an exhibitionist. I think I'll go with the curtains. Unfortunately, since I currently have no money with which to buy curtains, I've had to resort to nailing some spare bedsheets over the windows in the interim. Ghetto, but it works.

Also, I was not prepared for the fact that the entire apartment smells like cat pee. I knew that the previous tenant had a cat, but I was unaware that he apparently allowed it to urinate wherever it wished. I am fairly confident that there are no remaining traces of cat pee on my floors, as I saw them being cleaned yesterday. However, the smell of cat pee still pervades pretty much every single room. So far I have tried a number of methods to get rid of the smell, including spraying copious amounts of Febreeze, burning scented candles, cooking, and re-cleaning floors I know have been cleaned just to get the benefit of the cleaning-products smell. These remedies only seem to work for a short amount of time; the more pleasant scents all eventually yield to the smell of cat pee. Last night when I talked to my mom, she asked if there was anything I wanted as a housewarming present. I'm thinking some plug-in air fresheners, potpourri and many, many scented candles might be a good request.