A Whiter Shade of Pale

My blog has been a bit of a mess lately and I know it. I know that none of you, fair readers, care one lick about the Satellite Sisters, but you should, but I digress. You may have noticed a new look to my blog, as well, and at last, a new posting.

The change was inspired by Design Mom, a fantastic blog about the world of motherhood and the world of design and how they intersect. It is written by Gabby Blair, a designer and mother in NYC. I found the whole thing so clever and so inspiring. And the reason was that it had such a clear point of view. So I decided that is what my blog needed. A clearer point of view.

If there is one person I know who is always talking about a clear point of view, it is Tim Gunn on Project Runway. He is always telling the designers that they need a point of view. Sure Vincent can make a black vee-neck sweater and a pair of wool pants and talk for hours about how it "gets him off" and "turns him on" (which, consequently causes me to throw up.) but is it fashion? Not really. It's clothing. But there is no point of view. What is he saying? Well, nothing, except a whole bunch more vulgar nonsense.

So what's my point of view? What do I know and love and understand more than anything that colors my interactions with the world like design colors Gabby's? To anyone who has known me more than three days the answer is pretty obvious. I love TV. My favorite day of the year is when the Entertainment Weekly Fall TV preview issue arrives and I can sit down with a highlighter and map out my schedule. This year I used a blue highlighter for upstairs and a green one for down. I firmly believe that TV is home to some of the smartest and best writing happening in the world right now. I used to love going to the movies, and I still do, but I'd rather have some great TV to watch.

This weeks TV lessons were taught to us by a chubby Latino, a bunch of anorexics, and the woman who loves herself more than any other. And the lesson was this: quit taking yourself so seriously. The chubby Latino was Billy, the most recently ousted member of Survivor: Cook Islands. Billy told Jeff that he didn't care that he had been voted out because he had already won because he had found True Love…with Candace, a member of another tribe. He told the gob smacked Jeff that they had found love at first sight and each mouthed "I love you" to each other during the challenge. Mi scusi? We had to rewind to see said exchange and this is how it went:
Candice: Sorry you guys lost the challenge.
Billy: I know. I'm the next to go.
Candice: Well, we love you.
Billy: I love you, too.
*sigh* Sad, Billy,. Sad.

The anorexics were the gals for Cycle 7 of America's Next Top Model, which takes itself so seriously that it has cycles and not seasons. There were more tears shed in that episode than there are at my Mom's house during and episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Boo hoo! I'm from the ghetto and everyone's always told me I was ugly and I'm going to prove that I am beautiful! Poor me! My sisters were always the pretty ones! I'll show them! Waa - Waa! I was in a plane crash when I was nine and my mother laid her dying body across mine to save me from hypothermia! Boo…Ok, so that last one merit's a little crying.

Y'all're models! You get your picture taken because you are pretty. You aren't surgeons, or firemen or Diet Coke factory workers. You don't contribute to the good of humanity. So stop crying. But we know when you learned that immense self-serious-taking from. From the queen of them all, Ms. Tyra Banks. Has anyone in humanity ever loved herself more than Tyra? Can she ever walk just walk into a room. This week, her grand entrance was preceded by two fat spinning gay twins. I'm not kidding. Maybe I would love my self more if every time I was going to enter a room two guys in long robes went spinning in first yelling "a-swirl!" I'm gonna give it a try.

This week the models did "The Most Controversial Shoot Ever!" No, not the nude one at the beginning of the show. That’s old hat. The one where they posed acting out model stereotypes. Like bulimia, and the casting couch, and the dumb blonde, and the diva. But they were just stereotypes. Models are really just home girls like Tyra….Um, Pot. This is the Kettle. BLACK!

Anyway, I'll be back next week with a big bowl of Murddle Mountain Ice Cream to watch and revel. I mock TV. But I mock because I love.