What has a dancing glove, a pole dancer, and plays Beat It? (No, the answer is not "this guy," although I see how you might think that.) The correct answer? The Michael Jackson: Immortal Cirque du Soleil show, which we saw last night. Holy sensory overload. But by far the highlights for me were the guy dressed as a giant sparkly white glove and the guys dressed as MJ's shoes. Yep, just his shoes.
The pole dancer was the most amazing thing I have ever seen - she must be VERY popular with the boys.
And the Jackson 5 songs, complete with afros, were toe-tappingly fun. (Yes, I'm aware this is sounding dangerously like a restaurant review.) They ended with Man in the Mirror, of course. People were swaying and dancing and I think the lady in front of us was crying. It was good, but it wasn't THAT good.
PS - of course Bubbles the chimp was represented. You can't have a Michael Jackson tribute without Bubbles the chimp.
...is a word I use often, and I'm only a little embarrassed to say I learned it from watching Kristin on Laguna Beach. Which I am thrilled to say is back on MTV (in reruns, duh). I have of course added it to my DVR, as well as The Hills, which is ALSO in reruns on MTV. Bless you, MTV. (Haven't said that since...well, maybe ever.)
Now if only they would rerun Sorority Life. That shiz was amazing.
Emily arrives in Prague and tells us she feels like she is back in olden times. I don't think they wore itty bitty glittery shorts in olden times. Or purple spandex-ish dresses. But what do I know.
Felt like all the dates involved traipsing around the city, but perhaps there's not much else to do in Prague?
The first date with Arie is a smooch-fest (the short-shorts probably helped), until we are oddly interrupted by Chris Harrison back in LA explaining how Arie dated one of the producers like 10 years ago. Emily is mad because he didn't tell her; he didn't tell her because it was a long-ass time ago. I get it, but she was kind of making a big deal out of it. Oh, the dramz. But they breezed past the rocky patch ("off-camera" - thanks), and it seems to be smooth sailing with this one.
On to date #2 with John "Wolf" (seriously - is this his last name? why the quotes?). Such a cutie patoots, revealing how his last gf cheated on him and it's hard for him to open up. Adorbs. So of course he ends up getting the boot.
Back in the guys' hotel, Chris is getting restless and scary, saying no one should be around him if he gets the group date. Creeper. And of course he gets the group date. Touche, producers.
The group date is semi-boring, although Doug gets the surprise sayonara so that helps. Scary Chris gets a psycho look in his eyes when he doesn't the rose - I believe he may have even cried to the camera. And it's not an ugly cry - it's a scary cry. WHY she keeps him around, I have no idea.
The final date with Jef required much fast-forwarding, as they played with marionettes all day and then acted things out with them. I enjoyed the bobblehead play early on in the season, but puppets are a little creepy. He could have at least picked one out for himself that had knee socks...
Home town dates next week, people. I predict more dramz and tears (from the dudes).
What is it about being on the giant screen at a sporting event that makes people of all ages act like idiots? I went to a Rangers game over the weekend and was thoroughly amused with the reactions once people realized they were on the screen. Pointing, waving, jumping up and down - and that was just the adults.
I finally got my "moment in the sun" two weeks ago at a minor league baseball game (hence the air quotes). We were on the screen for an embarrassingly long amount of time. And what did I do? Waved, made the "number one" with my finger and shouted something about loving the RoughRiders. Which isn't exactly true. But in that moment on the screen, you sort of blank out and anything goes. At least I didn't flash the crowd.
We got an email yesterday about a new hire, who was labeled "Casual Worker." (They usually say things like "Temp" or "Perm" or whatever.) What in the world is a "casual worker?" I would be very interested in applying for that position. I could easily be a casual worker. I enjoy things casual.
After some jokes to the HR team, it turns out "casual worker" is the new term we're using for interns. Seriously?? Is the word "intern" derogatory or offensive? Probably less so than "casual worker..."
Watched this show last night documenting a family with an 11-yr-old girl who is schizophrenic. And her little 4-yr-old brother is autistic and showing signs of schizophrenia as well. Oof. And yet the parents are all "we're prepared to handle this, it's going to be fine," etc. Kind of makes potty training seem a little less strenuous.
They also introduced a couple of other kids with schizophrenia (who knew this was a thing among kids??), one of whom was a boy who really likes music and songwriting. His latest song? "Voices in my head." I'm sorry - that is clever. (And probably very therapeutic.)
Which leads me to: WHY are car chases so mesmerizing? High or low speed, it doesn't matter. I guess the fascinating thing to me is, WHY would you lead police around town when you KNOW it won't end well for you? You're either going to run out of gas, run out of highway, blow out your tires, have your tires blown out by the popo, or maybe get blown out yourself by the popo. No good options there, folks.
Everyone remembers where they were during the OJ Simpson Ford Bronco chase (feeling sentimental? here it is.) - you just sat mesmerized for hours. Watching a damn car. Good TV right there.
Sorry peeps - the A/C is busted and my computer has been on the fritz - but damned if the Bachelorette still deserves a post of some sort...
So we travel to Dubrovnik, Croatia. Semi-random choice, but it DOES looks pretty. Little Ricki is apparently not allowed in eastern Europe, so jets back to Charlotte.
One-on-one dates must not be allowed, either, as both guys were sent packing. Good call on sending Ryan home - not so sure about Travis, though. His southern charm won me over. Alas.
But oh, Ryan. Made a case for himself after she gave him the "not getting a rose tonight" speech, and for a second I was afraid she would change her mind. But his cheesy winks and blown oyster-pearl analogy made her decision final, resulting in the guys dancing around the apartment with glee when Ryan's suitcase was removed. And also resulting in the best. Limo confession. Ever. Speaking directly to the camera, Ryan hopes the producers will edit him in a good light, and not like an "arrogant asshole." Um. Too late, bub.
And then there was the group date. Which was brought to you by the new movie Brave. And perhaps the country of Scotland, since after the movie they held their very own Highland Games, complete with kilts. (Aren't we in Croatia? Where did they find the random Scottish dude to describe the contest? Weird.)
Poor Chris sucked at all events and got the pity rose. He needs to go. ASAP.
Ari snuck over and hung out in her bed (the horror!), and even threw her up against a wall for a passionate liplock, but he creeps me out for some reason (which we will apparently learn more about next week...stay tuned...)
After yet another guy cried over his family (the Wolfman, of course), she decided to keep everyone around for another week. In Prague. Not bad work if you can get it.
Wasn't feeling well yesterday and I had to ride a bus, field trip-style, so popped a couple of Dramamine before work so I wouldn't humiliate myself and puke in front of co-workers. I have the "less drowsy" version, but since I'm always drowsy anyway, had a sinking suspicion it could be a long day. (Can the scientists not come up with a NON-drowsy version??) I made it through work and promptly passed out at 7pm. Didn't MOVE until my alarm went off. Perish the thought of how long I would have slept with the regular Dramamine.
I never see ANYONE in my building. Not on my floor, not on the elevator - no one. Until Saturday night, when I was dressed up for an 80s party, looking completely ridiculous. Of course there was someone waiting for the elevator on my floor. Who of course looked me up and down and tried (unsuccessfully) to suppress a giggle. I immediately explained that I was going to an 80s party (if it wasn't obvious) and didn't always dress like that. And then the elevator stopped two more times to let other people on. And THEN there were like three or four cars that happened to be driving through the parking garage as I walked to my car. OH THE HUMANITY.
Someone I know and love just got fired. Having "been there, done that" in stellar fashion, I know how much it blows. It's like a suckerpunch to the gut. And then you get escorted out in the middle of the day - why not draw a little more attention to the embarrassing situation, why don't we. I remember having to gather my things and was told I couldn't speak to anyone on the way out. (Probably smart, since I was nearly hysterical.) Sobbing so much I was hiccuping, I just looked at my feet and wandered out to my car. Where I then wondered - "where in the hell am I supposed to go?"
Answer: the bar. I never got tired of guys asking what I did for a living and answering "not much." Someday I hope to have the same response. But I hope even more that it will be of my doing this time.
I love that some "super fans" made the cut. How does one apply to be a super fan of Bachelor Pad? Because I think I would be an excellent candidate. I watch all the damn shows (and I mean ALL of them), I blog about them, I even follow the contestants on Twitter. (She said, not even embarrassed a little bit.)
If that doesn't make me a super fan, I don't know what does.
I may have watched some of the Tony Awards. (I may have been slightly disappointed because I didn't know most of the musical numbers - a brief appearance by Annie got my hopes up too high.)
But I did know the Jesus Christ Superstar number. Mostly because in 8th grade, a girl in our class was from Mexico, and her father was the headmaster of a school there. The students came and performed Jesus Christ Superstar for us - in Spanish. ("Jesucristo, super estrella," if anyone is wondering.)
And that, folks, is my lone experience with this particular musical. Which was surprisingly easy to understand in another language. (Who knew?)
Ah, London. The perfect city for a blossoming reality show romance. Or douchebaggery. (Coining a new phrase. Go with me here.)
With school over, I'm giving out grades today.
Sean. So so adorbs. Although I really hope he was kidding when he didn't know what Big Ben was. And I will admit I fast-forwarded when he jumped up and started spouting off about love and what-not. So cringeworthy. But the fact that he's from Dallas and he's not a d-bag gives him bonus points.
Doug. For being the only one to man up and tell Emily what Kalon said about Ricki being "baggage." Granted, he totally knew that he would look like a hero, and he obviously gets off on that, but hey.
Also giving Emily a B+. Even though her teeth are brighter than the sun and really remind me of the Friends episode where Ross' teeth glow in the dark. I thoroughly enjoyed when she declared it was time to go "West Virginia backwoods hood rat" on Kalon. And actually did so in a very ladylike way. (Whilst using the F word.)
Jef. (God I want to add another F.) Surprisingly sweet on their date and finally smooched her. Way to go, knee socks. (And I totally would have docked points if he wore the knee socks again.)
Travis. He cracks me up for some reason.
Ryan. Still too smooth for his own good, and I'm guessing he's the one called out next week for being in it to win it. And I think she sees that, but she's a bit taken by his southern charm. And the balcony scene at the end WAS pretty cute. Still - semi-sleazeball.
Poor Alejandro. He wasn't even on camera until the rose ceremony, and that's when I knew he was a goner. And he was. Adios, buddy.
Kalon, duh. Way to represent SMU, my man. Go back to your "luxury brand consulting" job and apologize to your single mom. Sheesh.
Ran the Wounded Warrior 10K yesterday. Considering how much I drank on Saturday, and how freaking humid it was during the race, it's amazing I was able to run at all. But I guess I just sweated out the alcohol...and anything else that was in my body. Good lord.
Definitely hurting today. But there were soldiers running in camo and army boots with 50-pound packs on their backs. If they can do it without complaining, so can I.
At least I got a medal out of the deal. (Don't get excited - everyone got one.)
Got home last night and Elf was on. So I watched it. And of course laughed out loud. (Not surprising, given the fact that Christmas Vacation is my all-time favorite movie which I could watch all year long.)
Timing of the movie on TV was a bit odd, given that Christmas in JUNE isn't really a thing.
I've been to a Christmas in July party before, and there's a day (maybe July 25?) that a radio station here plays all Christmas music, which is equal parts bizarro and awesome. I remember finding myself in a Subway and carols were piping through the joint. I thought someone just put on the wrong mix, but then got in my car and kept hearing it. Wigged me out until I figured out what was going on.
I might have to throw myself a Christmas in July birthday party one of these years - but it's a little tough living in Texas and trying to feel festive when you can't stop sweating. Santa likes frozen egg nog and swimming pools, right? Who doesn't.
Having received my master's in broadcast journalism (fairly pointless, but whatever), I have read off of scripts and teleprompters. It's not that difficult. Especially if you (spoiler alert!) read over it beforehand.
This morning I heard two unfortunate mispronunciations on two different programs. Reporting about Ray Bradbury's death, a TV anchor said he was the author of "Fahrenheit 4-5-1" (rather than 451). Interesting.
And then on the radio, one of the djs pronounced sedan "se-dahn." He blamed it on being Hispanic, but I'm not sure that's the excuse.
But practice aside, there are always the bloopers that happen on camera that you can't control. Exhibit A.
Another doozy of a Bachelorette episode last night.
Loving Dallas Sean more and more. So precious. Bermuda. Jealous. Although the weather seemed kind of iffy (see below).
Emily's uber fake ponytail.
The ominous thunder when Ryan said he just wanted to be the Bachelor (the horror!), and when Doug/Chris clashed. A little cheesy, but this IS the Bachelorette after all.
Nate, crying to Emily about how great his brother is. That was the kiss of death for him, and a little concerning for me.
Also concerning: how much Doug liked shopping and hitting the perfumery with Emily.
Bye bye, brain injury Charlie. We'll miss you. I also thought rehab counselor Michael was sweet. And conveniently the rain started to fall as they started to cry. You just can't make this sh*t up. (Well, maybe you can.)
The ugly: Ryan has quickly gone from golden boy to complete douchebag. Asking her why she's worthy of being the Bachelorette? Um, because ABC is paying her.
Emily's "flaws," including being sensitive and not working out. Sigh.
And finally, Jef's ridiculous shorts and blue knee socks ensemble during the rose ceremony. Nice choice, pal.
Next week: Emily tells someone to "get the f*%& out!" Yesssssss.
I don't know if it's really sad or really impressive, but we held our 9th annual toga party over the weekend. I didn't wear a toga for the first time since 2003, and was kind of okay with it. Still drank the Kool-aid (er, toga party punch) and even had a shot of the infamous cherries and everclear concoction. And of course closed out the night by karaoking "Baby Got Back."
Might have one more TP left in me - gotta make it to 10, right? Because then it would be all Roman and cool with Roman numerals - TOGA PARTY X. Look for t-shirts and cups coming soon.
Yesterday morning, I was working out on my elliptical and there was some amazing lightning happening outside. So I took a break and took my cameraphone out on the balcony to try to snap a pic. Emphasis on "try." I stood out there for 5 minutes, and every time lightning would strike, I took a picture - 5 seconds too late. (Now have quite an assortment of downtown-Dallas-at-night pics if anyone wants them...)
Finally gave up and went back inside. Storm chasing (or at least, storm photographing) is probably not in my future.