Blaine-Worthy Feat

Did you see David Blaine this week? Hottie in a bubble. Until you saw his gnarly hands. Too bad the stunt didn't pan out the way he wanted. He should have focused on the breath-holding attempt, instead of compromising his abilities by submerging himself for a week in water. You know how sleepy you get after you go swimming? Try it for seven days. No wonder he failed. I really enjoyed Blaine more when he performed amazing card tricks on the street, or pulled string out of his abdomen, or made someone's watch appear in a storefront window.
I found something yesterday to pacify you Blaine-addicts out there - a truly amazing feat! Stuff on my cat is a site I check out daily, b/c I enjoy seeing the arrogant feline subjected to a wee bit of humiliation. (Don't worry, no cats are harmed in the making of this site.) At any rate, someone please tell me how you can get a cat to hold still long enough to get THIS photo! Seriously, that takes talent. Toilet paper is THIN, folks.

I know, not as exciting as "cat in a bubble," but try to wrap a cat in toilet paper, and I'll promise you it's worth televising.

Rocker Shocker

Is it possible? Is he really gone? Well, I gotta hand it to the American public (a group I had almost lost faith in after the 2004 elections) - they did the right thing. Chris Daughtry had the worst performances Tuesday night, possibly of his whole tenure on the show, and rightly deserved to go home. Yes, he is closest to Idol material, but he got too cozy and slacked off. No room for that anymore - not at this stage of the competition. More shocked was Katharine McPhee -- who should be the next to go.
What's amazing to me, is that America seems to have fallen in love with the two underdogs of the Idol story...the scruffy, talented Elliot, who is by no means polished in appearance, but charming, diabetic, and 90% deaf in one ear. And Taylor Hicks, the grey-haired, gravel-voiced, jerky soulman with painful dance moves, who looks nothing like the pop stars of today. I would argue that they are deserving to be in the top two, based on their love of music alone. And I'm just thrilled that the cutesy-pie, perfect-package kids are mostly out of the running. This is my first season to ever watch Idol, every episode, and I'm glad I did. Idol-faithful, educate me. Is this the best one ever?
Also important to note: Taylor is the only contestant who has NEVER been in the bottom three or bottom two. The only one.

Idol Thoughts

The Final Four, can you feel the excitement? This is really tough - a hard place in the competition, but I'm so thrilled that two of the most NON-COMMERCIAL guys have gotten so far! That's been my whole beef with American Idol, that we're supposed to pick a "Simon-Cowell-Endorsed-Package" of what our Idol should be. Now, Simon-lovers, don't go all hateful on me. I tend to agree with most of Simon's comments during the show. He's harsh, honest, and doesn't sugar-coat the cold reality of how the contestants perform. Plus, I don't think he's doing the mind-altering substances that Paula imbibes.

So...who are my top two? Taylor and Elliot. Taylor has always been my top pick, b/c he is REAL and DIFFERENT, and doesn't scmooze the camera. He is being true to himself. The man would shrivel and die if he wasn't involved in music. Elliot has a great voice, and with a little polishing, would make an album worth listening to. (Did I just date myself horribly by using the word "album?" Do any of you remember what an album is?)

As for Katharine, well, she has an inflated ego. That bothers me. Chris? I seriously don't think I could listen to 13 tracks of his voice. I own Live's "Throwing Copper," and as great as it is, I still can't listen to it all the way through without stopping. Katharine and Chris ARE, however, perfect commercial packages. Just what Simon would love. I think he actually resents Taylor Hicks making it this far - remember how Simon dissed him early in the auditions?

BTW, there is a web site that tracks the busy signals of each contestant's dial in numbers, called DialIdol that has been pretty close to predicting who will be voted off next. Here are their results from last night:

DialIdol Score Margin Of Error

Taylor Hicks 29.749 1.533
Elliott Yamin 29.181 1.539
Katharine McPhee 25.623 1.577
Chris Daughtry 25.241 1.581

Could it be true? Can't wait for tonight!

Acronymania!

Amber got her yearbook Friday, which was IN COLOR - the ENTIRE THING! How cool is that? I love looking through the photos, putting faces with the names of kids she's mentioned throughout the year. Especially the ones she's said are "bullies" or "mean" or "jerks." Got my eye on those. It's also neat to see how much her classmates have changed since they were wee ones.

So, I'm flipping through - and I'm reading all the messages left by her friends. I notice two things that disturb me. One signature includes the message "LYLAFKLC," and another dozen or so include "HAGS."

LYLAFKLC. Okay. My mind is twisting around that one pretty fast. Going thru all the possibilities. I remember a favorite in my day was "LYLAS," or "Love You Like a Sister." Was easy to pronounce - "lie-lass." But what was this? I get the scoop from the kid. LYLAFKLC = "Love You Like A Fat Kid Loves Cake." Thank goodness.

HAGS? I wondered if the first kid who wrote this was...well...affected. Maybe just a little bit of dyslexia while trying to write "hugs." Then another kid signed that way - and another. Was this the beginning of a middle school version of the "Mean Girls" clique? Nope. Evidently, HAGS = "Have a Good Summer."

My turn. Every so often, I get a CD addiction. I'll buy a CD, and then it stays in my CD player for a month, until I've memorized every song on it. My latest addiction is FOB. Catchy, great lyrics, great song titles...I think I've about got the thing memorized. I even like their videos! So if you're wanting to catch up with today's music at all, this is a CD I would recommend. And I wouldn't recommend you look up Pete Wentz's Sidekick photos that were "mistakenly" distributed on the 'net. Though I have a whole new respect for little guys. Their album is entitled "From Under the Cork Tree." What's the significance of the title? In a recent interview, Pete said, "We wanted for people to get their parents to buy it for them [having] to say, 'Will you go buy me FUCT?' It's just an awesome acronym." I think it would be funnier if they told their fans to go out and get FUCT. Oh, and for those of you who are acronymically-challenged, FOB = "Fall Out Boy." HAGS!

Got Pants?

HOORAY! It's NO PANTS DAY!! (Better than acknowledging Cinco de Mayo, with all the unrest in today's America, dontcha think?) According to the official web site, which you can access here, "No Pants Day" is a day where everyone, be they students, respectable businessmen, or cherished community leaders, leave their pants behind. Usually this means wearing thick, appropriately modest boxer shorts, but bloomers, slips, briefs, and boxer-briefs all work as well. If you are participating today, you are invited to upload your photos to flickr.com, with the tag of "no pants day." And, when you access the official web site, you can view photos from previous events. My favorite has to be the gentleman in his shirt, tie, and jacket, standing atop a conference room table, pantsless. Taking "Casual Friday" to a whole new level!

I Am Grup

After a recent trip out with friends to a club, I was reminded of an article that I read about "grups." (Full text of this fascinating article here, with thanks to Mr. Big.) Pictured to the right is a couple in their late 30's, with children younger than my daughter. The author of this article has noticed a trend I thought was my own personal identity crisis - that many people my age "refuse to grow up." I am evidently not alone.

I joke all the time to my husband about how the nursing homes one day will be filled with the tunes of the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin - as little old men in wheelchairs pester nurses for a spare joint. As the article suggests, that vision may not be far off. It seems as if more and more people in their 30's, 40's and 50's have kept up with fashion and pop music, breaking the cycle of "parents who just can't understand the music these days," thereby partially eliminating the generation gap. I listen to Bloc Party, and yes, they ARE better than The Bravery. My husband hangs his many guitars on our dining room walls. My friend, whiterabbit, still wears Converse. My daughter has just discovered The Cure and New Order...what's going on here?

The author claims it's our generation's passion for life, something I whole-heartedly agree with. In the closing paragraph, he states, "Being a Grup isn’t, as it turns out, all about holding on to some misguided, well-marketed idea of youth—or, at least, isn’t just about that. It’s also about rejecting a hand-me-down model of adulthood that asks, or even necessitates, that you let go of everything you ever felt passionate about. It’s about reimagining adulthood as a period defined by promise, rather than compromise. And who can’t relate to that?"

Awesome...totally. Now excuse me, while I go dancing.

Unbridled Emotions

I have had a really tough two weeks. Mostly job-related stress and a flurry of responsibilities to address. You know, when you reach a certain age, you are expected to handle such adversity with maturity. As a business-owner, I face intense scrutiny for my decisions and reactions to conflict. I'm not allowed to cry.

I have a Netflix subscription, but it's difficult to find time to watch movies, now that the kiddo has entered softball season. Finally, I was able to watch "Radio," uninterrupted. A friend of mine suggested the film, and I had caught bits and pieces of it on satellite. But I wanted to fully immerse myself in the movie experience. Immerse, I did.

I was amazed at the acting skills of Cuba Gooding, Jr. I recall his performance in "Boyz 'n the Hood," when he was just a young actor. And who could forget his enthusiastic Oscar acceptance speech when he won for his supporting role in "Jerry Maguire?" The fact that "Radio" involved sports made this even better. Plus, I'm a sucker for anything based on a true story.

My daughter thought I was a blithering idiot during the scene when Radio found out about the death of his mother. I was sitting on the couch, literally crying and bawling great hitching sobs, right along with Radio. Tears were flowing down my cheeks, uncontrollably - and it felt SO GOOD. I am an incredibly passionate individual, in every aspect of my life. It was just the release I needed.

I strongly encourage you to watch this film. It reminded me that there are others so much less fortunate than I, and it is my responsibility as a decent human being to reach out to those who would benefit from my assistance. In one way, the story of Radio was a gift to me. I will find a way to return the favor.

Into the Mind of a Killer

As I mentioned earlier - I have been reading the blog of the 26-year old man who killed a 10-year old girl in Oklahoma, with plans of conducting unspeakable acts, including cannibalism. You may wonder why I would care to read the thoughts of an obviously depraved individual. So let me explain.

My parents were very overprotective as I was growing up. My mother warned me about the dangers of "strangers," yet took it a step further. She and I read stories of Henry Lee Lucas, John Wayne Gacy, Jr., etc. I had a hard time looking at Mark Harmon for years, b/c he had played Theodore Bundy in a movie at that time. It wasn't out of morbid curiosity, but more of an attempt to learn their tactics and techniques. So that as I grew up, I would know how to avoid putting myself into situations that might lead to my death.

As I've gotten older, I am more interested in what leads these people to kill. Some, like Aileen Wuoros, have a history of abuse in their pasts that make the connection easier to fathom. Just watch "Monster," if you want a real look inside what led this woman to her psychotic rampage. Others grew up in homes with people who themselves were psychotic. Some could be labeled as just plain crazy.

So why read this man's blog? To try to understand why he snapped. Or if he snapped. He comes across as extremely intelligent, yet at a dead-end in his life, suffering from depression, loneliness, and despair. No excuse to kill a child, but the proclamations from others that he is "pure evil" leave me wondering. He wrote entries from September 2002 until the day AFTER he murdered the child. Reading his first entry about September 11th did make me shudder..


I have also read it to try to find a pattern in his communications - something that might be a sign if I meet someone like this in the future, or if my daughter brings home a young man that I suspect is...well...you know.

I won't suggest you read the entire blog, but here is a link that might interest you. It details some of the most telling entries of the blog, as well as articles about the case. It also includes an IM log of a conversation this man had with a friend, while he had the body of the victim in his closet. Make your own judgment as to whether or not, if you had read this prior to his acts, you would have seen the signs. It is also interesting to read the comments left by others.

I will not post his photo, nor mention his name. The only person you need to know is Jamie Rose Bolin, his unfortunate victim. She is pictured above. May her family find some comfort, and may she rest in peace.

Pickler Picked Off

Hooray! America isn't going to vote for CUTENESS or LIKEABILITY or COMMERCIALISM! America might actually pick someone for American Idol WHO CAN SING!!

Don't get me wrong. Honestly, during the auditions of American Idol, I knew Kellie would make it far. She did not have the WORST voice, but it was limited in its scope. She had the least amount of training, yet the highest potential because of her likeability factor. A factor that, IMHO, quickly became the annoyance factor. I just couldn't tolerate the Pickler schtick that many weeks in a row. At first, it was, "Aw, cute little Southern girl is all wide-eyed in the great big world." Which quickly evolved to, "That little cutesy-pie accent and dumb blonde act is the most unnerving part of this show."

My faith has been restored in America's Couch Potato population segment. You voted perfectly this week - the Pickler had to go. Rock on.

I'm ready for Presidential Idol now.

Been A Long Time...

I know, dear readers, it's been a while.

But Tiggerlane has been in a bit of a state these last few days. I'm not sure if it is due to a) a recent viewing of Brokeback Mountain, or b) reading the blog of the Oklahoma man who recently killed a 10-year old girl.

Most of you will wonder why I bothered doing either one.

I will tackle Brokeback first. Okay, so how could I NOT watch a movie that was all about the hype? I usually make a point to view each film that is nominated as "Best Picture" by the Academy, so this was on the list. After hearing that the sex scenes were limited, I decided to give it a try. Now, knowing that it is a GAY cowboy movie - wouldn't you have expected a reasonably "happy" ending? HELLO? Oh well. The ending was depressing. I just can't abide movies like that. For example, I loved Titanic, but I was awake for days, trying to reconcile the ending of that movie. My mother and I even argued about it. I firmly believe Rose died at the end, meeting Jack in Heaven, so there was at least SOME semblance of a HAPPY ENDING. My mother insists it was just a dream. The worst part, however, is that I never understood how Rose could throw that gorgeous necklace into the water. It upset me immensely. It bothered me even more than the loss of her Jack. Woman, PLEASE. Diamonds are a girl's best FRIEND!

But, I digress. I will blog more later - and for now, the most satisfying part of Brokeback is the fact that no one mounted a sheep.

Pre-Vacation Headaches

Just an innocent suggestion such as, "Why don't you come to visit us?" by the parental units has caused me endless hours of online research and late night/early morning grief. If the parental units lived, let's say, in Tennessee - this might be as simple as hopping in the car and showing up. No, the parental units have chosen the beautiful California area of South Laguna Beach as their retirement haven, meaning that I have to trek across the country to see them.

Before you ask, I love my parents dearly. I am their only child, and our daughter is their only grandchild. I haven't been to visit them in six years - and yes, that makes me a horrible person. But you have to understand my reluctance to travel such a distance on VACATION. The stress of the airports, the lugging of luggage (I just now figured out why they call it that), the hotel rooms, the rental car - all the work involved in keeping everything running smoothly for the husband and child. It's exhausting. This, after working the entire week before. It's worse than work.

The parental units? Happily retired. But you know, at the ages of 65 and 70 - much too frail to travel (?), and let's not forget the thought of leaving the dog for a week (Precious). Not gonna happen. Much easier for the daughter to lug her clan across the country - and what exactly IS there to do in Arkansas? Besides, don't you wanna stay at a cool place like this?

At least I have chosen my flight and booked the hotel room. We're staying at a lovely resort, if you'd like to come visit. It's apparently one of the only hotels in the state of California that does not crucify smokers on the gates of the entrance. (At 1:30AM on Saturday morning, after spending hours online looking for hotels that welcome cancer-stick addicts, I briefly thought of asking Roger not to smoke during the trip. Then I came to what senses I had left. He was going to see the IN-LAWS, for goodness sakes. What was I thinking?)

Wanna come smoke it up with us? Here is the link to our fabulous hotel. Oh, and it's not just breathtaking because of the views...don't even talk to me about the PRICE. That will literally take your breath away!

'Fess Up, Dearie - Past Your Prime?

I just cant imagine spending $1,000 per ticket to listen to Madonna Live . Honestly. Is it time for Madge to hang it up? Regardless of all the haters who say her butt is sagging (and judging from her latest CD cover, I just don't see it) - we listen for the music. And after listening to this clip, I have lost my desire to see or especially hear her live.

Incredibly sad, considering I've always been a fan. Granted, I grew up in the 80's (the "dark ages" of music, according to my 52-year old husband), so being a Madonna fan is not a huge confession. But I must admit, she doesn't sound that great live. I've had admiration for her willingness to be "out there" to make a buck, and she has a career that noone could sneeze at, but c'mon...the minimum ticket I could find was $370. Dontcha want some good singing to go with all that gyrating? I know some of the Madonna-faithful out there will chastise me for such disloyalty, but forgive me if I'd rather watch the American Idol group on tour.

The Next Level of Personal Expression/Idiocy?

A while back, I posted about grillz. At the time, I wrote it off as a silly, expensive way to personalize one's look. Little did I know that people out there are doing much more extreme things to their bodies.

The latest crazy seems to be body implants. An incision is made, and then an object made of either titanium, soft solid silicone, or Teflon is inserted. Other materials such as stainless steel can be used, but some people can develop an allergic reaction and reject the implant. If rejection does occur, the body will push the implant out through the skin.

According to this article ,"The length of time the process takes depends on the type of implants and the person it is being done on. Each person's fibrous layer is different; some may take less than 10 minutes, others up to half an hour. It also depends on the size of the implant. The implants are meant to be permanent but they can be removed. In fact it's easier to remove them than it is to put them in. If someone isn't happy with the outcome, or if they've shifted at all, they can easily be removed or replaced."

I'm all for personal expression. In fact, I allow my daughter to dye her hair and wear pretty much whatever she pleases, as long as it is age-appropriate. I won't allow her to pierce any part of her face until she is out from under my roof, though I have consented to a bellybutton piercing when she turns 13. I endorse creativity. I applaud individuality. But this seems insane. Once again, I feel as old as the hills...and being a parent seems more difficult.

American WHAT?

I will preface this by saying that I am in no way a great singer. Yes, I sing along in my car/shower/house/office to all manner of tunes, but I would never subject myself to any form of competition. Especially in front of actual people.

What was up with American Idol last night? Hello? Did they forget they are on national television - with a live studio audience? This isn't time for warmups!

The most hideous thing? Ace Young and his SCAR.
Honestly. His performance reminded me of when Amber was little, and used to mime the words to cheesy songs while using her Little Tykes microphone in the living room. Funny and cute when she was three. Not funny and cute when a grown man strokes his SCAR during his performance and strokes his HAIR as well. Granted, I know the lyrics to "Drops of Jupiter." But Ace, give me a break. Your narcissism is almost as annoying as Kellie Pickler's hick-speak.

Once again, I voted for Taylor. He and Paris had the best performances of the night. I don't think Taylor is the best singer, but he is HONEST. He isn't trying to woo the audience. He isn't trying to seduce the camera to win the 16-year-old-girl vote. He finally sang without having an epileptic seizure, which granted, can distract. (I know, it's his SOUL speaking when he moves like that - but it is a tad painful to watch.)

And someone, please vote Bucky off. I don't think I can take another week.

T.M.I.

I get these all the time, so in an effort to satisfy everyone's curiosity, I've posted my answers. Read 'em and weep. This is one of those posts I hope my parents never see!

You know the drill - you're supposed to place an X by all the things you've done, and send it to all of your friends.
This is for your entire life:

(X) Smoked a cigarette
(X) Drank so much you threw up
( ) Crashed a friend's car (they should have had "crashed into a friend's car")
( ) Stolen a car
(X) Been in love
(X Been dumped
(X) Been laid off/fired (and only b/c my boss wasn't paying his federal taxes!)
(X) Quit your job
( ) Been in a fist fight
( ) Snuck out of your parent's house (I was too goody-two-shoes for that back then)
(X) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back (Hello? Matt Damon??)
( ) Gone on a blind date
(X) Lied to a friend
(X) Skipped school (only college, tho. I think I skipped entire years.)
(X) Seen someone die
( ) Been to Canada
(X) Been to Mexico
(X) Been on a plane
(X) Been lost
(X) Been on the opposite side of the country
( ) Gone to Washington, DC (next year!)
(X) Cried yourself to sleep
( ) Played cops and robbers
( ) Recently colored with crayon
(X) Sang karaoke (karaoke video, no less!)
(X) Paid for a meal with only coins
(X) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(X) Made prank phone calls
(X) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(X) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X) Danced in the rain
(X) Written a letter to Santa Clause
(X) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(X) Watched the sun rise with someone you care about
(X) Blown bubbles
( ) Made a bonfire on the beach
(X) Crashed a party
(X) Gone roller-skating
(X) Ice-skating

This is a very tame version of the "sex quiz" from years ago. No way I'm posting my answers to that one. Any others, feel free to send them to me. Maybe I'll answer.

Now, I want to know how many of you have stolen a car.

Surviving, Again

Hello, folks. I did not, as reported, drop off the face of the earth. I was merely spending another weekend, out of town, cavorting with fountain ducks.

It is amazing to me that as I get older, it takes so much longer to recover from a simple weekend out of town. (And yes, "simple weekend" usually involves an alcoholic beverage or two. Or three. Okay, maybe four.) In the olden days (read: college), I could go on for many days in a row without sleep and little sustenance besides 39-cent tacos and Boone's Strawberry Hill. I never remember being exhausted and having to take a "down day" to recuperate. Maybe I would have to take a partial day to recover from a hangover, but I was always ready for another round by evening.

Now, I spend one night partying (not even LATE, people!), and semi-sleep in an uncomfortable hotel bed, and BAM! I spent almost all day Sunday trying to regain my sense of self. It took all the energy I could muster to go to WalMart (then again, that's not unusual) and do the shopping.

Adding to my puzzlement - I eat SO MUCH BETTER now - PLUS, I exercise on a regular basis! I literally sweat out impurities by the bucketload when I work out! I read! I drink gallons of water - especially when I'm on a trip! I am a responsible individual! What's wrong with this picture?

Any tips are appreciated. And please, don't just tell me I'm getting old.

A Parent's Nightmare, Part Deux

It's staring you and your child in the face - the impending due date of the science fair project. Thankfully, the science teacher tells you about it during the first week of school. Giving you plenty of time to fret and worry.

Phase One - selecting a topic. This is made much easier due to the experimental nature of our daily home life. Father Roger comes up with the perfect project - involving baking soda and vinegar. With the help of the science teacher, we refine the project into an experiment involving exploding a cork out of a container and measuring the height the cork sails into the stratosphere, using various quantities of baking soda. A simple variation of a parlor trick we employed to amaze the child's friends during their toddler years.

Then comes the worst phase - attempting to prod the immobile child into completing the project. Stern phrases are heard, echoing throughout the house over the coming months.

"Have you thought about your science project?"
"When are you going to start your science project?"
"Exactly how much time until your science project is due?"
"Are you planning to wait until the absolute last minute to begin the science project?"
"Hello? Are you in there? Science project, anyone?"

Finally, the threats and the removal of privileges.

"No, you can't stay at so-and-so's house. Why? Because you haven't finished your science project."
"No, you can't rent that movie. The time would be much better spent on that science project."
"No dinner until you've spent an hour on that science project."
"I'm going to take your portable DVD player and do my own freakin' science project to see how far I can hurl it across the street and into the path of a passing SUV if you don't start working on that science project."

All of a sudden, the term "science project" becomes more offensive than any four-letter expletive known to man.

Alas, there is a happy/unhappy ending. Miraculously, the child works on the science project. Begrudgingly, she works on the project. Astonishingly, the child is remarkably proficient at using her computer skills to lay out all the photos and written portions of the science project. The science project is actually completed, the day before the science fair, in 30 minutes, because the child realizes there is no other option, if she cares to live any kind of existence outside (or inside) the home. It was easier than expected. The pressure appears to be off. A sense of relaxation begins to overcome the household for the first time in months.

Until the day of the science fair. Yes, here is your dual ending. The science project actually places. The science project will be traveling beyond the borders of the county, to compete at another level.

It will not die.

A Parent's Nightmare, Part One

You know the second they hand you that beautiful little bundle in the delivery room? That moment that couldn't be more awe-inspiring and heavenly? (Well, okay - assuming you had good drugs and/or complete amnesia for the past twelve hours.) There is something that awakens in the brain. Remotely, deeply, a small seed that begins to grow slowly over time...

You don't know really what it is - and after those first few blissful years of cuteness and toddlerhood, you begin to think it's taking shape somehow. As if you can almost put your finger on it.

Getting into the school years, it starts to feel like a loathsome dread - a black cloud hanging over you. That there is a mysterious facet of parenthood ahead that you had not anticipating while rolling around in the hay with your spouse, hurtling toward the bliss of procreation. You think it might involve organized sports and the demise of your beloved offspring in some freak basketball mishap. It continues to elude you for a few more years.

Finally, it hits you when the child enters the sixth grade. It is only then that the veil is lifted and realize the true horror of what lies before you. The one thing that you forgot, that has had parents and children locked in one of the most brutal conflicts of all time.

THE DREADED SCIENCE FAIR PROJECT.

Oscar Wrap-Up

Sigh...the last of the big award shows is over. What is a girl to do until football season begins again?

So, you know I can't pass up the opportunity to criticize some of the dresses, right? After all, even though this year's crop was one of the most fabulous and diva-stating ever, you KNOW there were flops. And I'm gonna point them out. (And btw, who was the genius who came up with POCKETS for formal gowns? I have to give them props for the strangest trend this year - yet the most useful!!)

Beautiful Charlize Theron. I have to give you credit for really getting nasty-looking in your last two films - that's what wins Oscars - but this is the night to SHINE, babe. Help Hollywood remember how gorgeous you really are! Don't hide half your face with a big, silly bow - then couple that with a dress that does NOTHING for your breasts!! Are you out of your mind? Or have you played so many ugly women lately that you just can't quite pull it together when need be?

Naomi Watts. Honey, we saw the big brutish Kong whip you around...but did you have a tussle at the Siegfried & Roy Ranch before the show? Seriously - this has to be the worst dress of the evening. I can't even see your waist, what with all that ratted material draped over it. Please don't tell me you paid good money to look so disheveled.

I won't even mention the atrocity on top of Helena Bonham Carter's head. I just pray that it wasn't her hair.
And once again, gotta love ya, Reese. But why did you wear a dress that weighs a ton? It was painful watching you lift it as you made your way up the steps to the podium - I honestly believe I saw you cringe with the effort. You are such a bright, light, funny little thing - and you chose to wear something that resembles curtains from the Titanic. I was waiting for the dress to pull you under the red carpet, drowning in a sea of fabric and beadery. My advice - try something fun next time. And light.

Lastly, what was up with all the montages? We could have cut those out, and saved an hour of show. Kudos for John Stewart for mentioning that! And I felt terribly sorry for Bobby Moresco, the OTHER winner of the original screenplay for "Crash." They shut out the lights and wouldn't even let him speak! Note to the Academy: cut the montages, and let the winners have their moment in the spotlight, uninterrupted.

Go Taylor!

Another good night of American Idol - and once again, the boys WAY outdid the girls. I was browsing the Taylor Hicks Fan Site earlier this evening, and noticed something strange. It appears that Taylor, in his younger (darker) days, bore a striking resemblance to a popular actor. An actor who is also now a salt-n-pepper man, though much older than our Hicks. Care to guess? C'mon --- look at the eyes. It's in there.