American Idol - Season 11

Tomorrow are the results and I really hope Philip wins. Oh and in case you missed this season, I'll give you a rundown:

A 100,000+ people waited in football stadiums, shopping malls, or the black hills of Dakota to strut their stuff - or sing. Some got so nervous they just squeaked in front of the judges, some made complete fools of themselves i.e. wearing odd outfits or very little and others well...they should have just stuck to singing in the shower. Guaranteed there was crying...a lot of crying.

Hollywood week - where the diva's and the drama queens emerged as well as some illness tormenting the larynx.  The groups bickered and fought, forgot the words, created amazing harmonies and then they got thrown into four rooms. Randy, Jennifer and Steven walked in to make or break their dreams. Guaranteed there was crying...a lot of crying.

Another set of elimination rounds where some who were lackluster shone and those that were great had an off day, but guaranteed there was crying...a lot of crying. The final twenty-four got downsized to the 'Top Twelve'.

And it's at this point I actually start to watch the show seriously. If I happen to catch the other build-up shows so be it, but I couldn't be bothered to watch sometimes cringe-worthy singing and listening to 50 odd versions of Adele's 'Someone Like You', Christina's 'You are Beautiful' and/or Donny Hathaway's 'Song for You'. Some argue it's the best part of the show; I can take it or leave it.

Now every week, I'll watch quietly and make my criticism's loudly (at the beginning of what the judges are wearing, and at the end about the singing) - to Hubby - who at the same time over the last couple of months has done the washing up to avoid having to watch AI. Hey, at least the washing's done. Result shows do my pressure no good. I often end up yelling at the TV about who's in the bottom three and then make predictions of who will go home. Normally if I say 'Bob's going home', 'Ted' will be the one singing his final song. Then I'll pipe up saying, 'yeah thought as much, he wasn't as good...' I've never claimed to be Mystic Meg...

Last week's top three was as predicted (by fellow AI watchers, not me I hasten to add) but we were all shocked when Joshua got booted off. Then I started in with the sage sayings of 'he'll be fine', 'he'll be another Jennifer Hudson' blah, blah...so I've voted and voted....and voted for Philip Phillips. If he doesn't win, I always knew Jessica would.

Too Much Reality

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A news report on CNN stated that a man was suing the producers of 'The Bachelor' because they didn't have a black guy as a bachelor, or he wasn't chosen to be the bachelor because he was black...whatever, who cares.

Let's not make this a race thing; you're bitchin' 'cause you're making a point that all races are not represented on the show or is your need to be famous that important that you have throw the race card in there? Seriously, regardless of your color, you're telling me that you're happy to subject yourself to a nation passing judgement on your love life. Mate, it's a tough enough job to meet someone who gets you - but to do it on national TV?

Hubby and I have spent many a night flicking from one 'reality' program to the next just to watch something that isn't 'reality'! No kidding, the choice includes:

Beverley Hills Wives
Mob Wives
Basketball Wives
Momma's Boys
Auction Hunters (I actually like and watch this one)
Sons of Guns (another one that I'll watch)
American Pickers
Sweet Home Alabama
Storage Wars
Texas Storage Wars ('cause opening a storage unit in another state is SO different)
Toddlar's & Tiara's
Dance Mom's
Gun Smiths
Jersey Shore
Teen Mom...

I could go on but quite frankly, I don't care about 'real' people anymore - their ups and down's, their many conversations of 'no she didn't' or 'why get married, mom cooks for me...'

Hubby quite rightly said, 'I just want to watch some fiction.' When did light entertainment suddenly turn in to lets follow a bunch of people to see what they do everyday. Sorry, really not bothered. I never bought into the whole Big Brother thing and all these shows are bugging me (can you tell?). Please bring back the days of canned laughter, stage right exits and The Des O'Connor Show...

Grand National Tragedy

The Grand National for many a year has been my favorite race.

I used to beg my dad to make a bet for me when I couldn't go in to the bookies myself. As I got older, the thought of walking into a place filled with aging men, leaning on counters staring blankly at TV screens, betting slips strewn around their feet, a cigarette hanging from their mouth (before the smoking inside a public place ban), the tinge of stale beer clinging to the smoky air as their eyes swiveled to watch you approach the till, well, just didn't appeal - surprisingly!

But living next door to William Hill (we owned a sweet shop) meant that I knew everyone who hailed that place as their 'temple', so my fears and mild embarrassment soon abated.

I would read with a certain amount of frenzy the pages on Saturday morning of the race about the latest odds, the kind of ground (good, soft), the age of the horse, if the horse liked jumping fences...no more did I just rely on 'ah, he's wearing number 6, yeah I'll go for that one' or 'that name sounds good,' oh no, I did my research.

Last year I placed my bets online praising modern technology for once and this year, was no different. Unfortunately, I didn't win as I have done practically every year that I've placed a bet; each horse I backed fell. Worse still, two had to be put down - again. And despite Aintree making some improvements, the fences are still too high, there are too many horses racing and I think this may be my final year of betting.

As much as I love the majesty of this fine sport, I love the animals too. And I know there are those who say if a horse doesn't want to jump he won't, yet I can't help but feel that I've placed a bet on the death of these horses. Yes, that does sound a tad over dramatic, but that's how I'm feeling right now.

And who knows, next year as April approaches, and they've made the course really safe, I may well glance a causal eye over the form and make an imaginary bet.

Baby Classes

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Hubby and I popped over to see our friends baby, born just over a week ago (cue the 'ahhs'). Whilst there, a friend of theirs also popped in with his teenage daughter. She walked in holding a carry cot. At first glance I thought the baby in it was real, but it wasn't.

It was a 'real-life' doll she had to look after as part of a class at school (I forget the actual name of it, but let's just call it "Health Class"). The teenager and her best friend had joint custody of the baby and it was their responsibility to feed, bathe, and change its nappy - all after they electronically swiped in to indicate to the teacher that 'the mother' is looking after the child. When the 'real doll' began crying, she rushed to pick it up, hurriedly changed it (there are different color-coded diapers to use) and gave it a bottle. And then her dad told us that the other day, the 'real-doll' was crying and crying and his daughter couldn't work out what was wrong. Her dad simply said, 'maybe she just needs to be picked up and held.'

We asked if it was a mandatory class - it isn't - and the five adults in the room all surmised that perhaps it should be. As my friend said, you have to have a test to get a drivers licence, yet nothing is asked of you to show that you can look after a child.

America has almost got it right; I didn't have 'baby classes' when I was a teenager, but times have changed and with TV programs on MTV like 'Teen Mom' making it 'cool' to have a baby (if only to gain stardom), these type of classes are really needed. They should make them compulsory - both boys and girls need to understand what it is to have a baby and look after it.

As I watched her change the diaper I wondered where the 'care' came in? I appreciate that it's a doll; how much affection can you show? But isn't creating a loving and safe environment just as important as feeding a child? To me she excelled at doing the basics, but there was an air of 'I'll do this quickly, get it over and done with.' The mere fact that her dad said, she just needs to be held is telling - what exactly are these classes about if it doesn't teach how to care or show affection for a child and most importantly to show love?

Budding Novelist Looking for Thicker Skin

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I mentioned a while back that I was starting to write. And wrote a couple of short stories - short being the operative word.

So someone reviewed my short story 'When You're Happy' (which can be found at: http://www.libboo.com/read/when-youre-happy) and gave it two stars (out of five) as it "needed more substance". She claimed that it "has potential and it's such "an interesting idea and story line". All great I hear you mutter...but then she ends with "the characters are underdeveloped, there is no clear picture of who each of them is...go back and work on this..."

Now initially, I thought, cheers for the feedback love I can see what you're getting at. But then I mulled over what she said and I thought, no it's a short story. By definition there isn't always a need to develop characters. their interaction with others, a deep plot etc. It's been a few months since I wrote said piece but I wrote it with a sense of floating in and out memories - it's vague for a reason, it was from the main character's point of view (can't say much more as I'll give the ending away).

Fast forward a few days and yet more time spent mulling over the critique; whilst I still harbored a slight resentment for her not getting what a short story's about (Tess Gerritson faced the same problem - she wrote a short story about her main characters Rizzoli & Isles and received so much criticism about lack of plot etc!) I realized that I had to accept her feedback because if I'm going to put my written words out there, people will either love or hate my work! So I'm going to have to toughen up...and should I write more short stories hope that people understand the concept (wink).

Extra! Extra! Royals Have a New Dog!

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I'm a fan of the royal family. American's love the royals too but they are less inclined to splash news about them across their broadsheets - in the fashion or gossip magazines, yes - but not their papers, unless its something important like William heading off to Argentina.

Unlike the British press who will publish anything...and I'm referring to the tabloids. So I was tad surprised to find that The Times (London edition) composed a two page article on finally finding out the name of the Duke and Duchess' (of Cambridge) dog. I skimmed the article to read that apparently people have been eager to know the name of their puppy ever since he arrived on their doorstep and The Times are proud to be the first ones to Twitter this historical event.

I suppose with worrying headlines concerning Syria and economic downfalls, an article on the new royal dog is a little light relief and I shouldn't be critical. What with being away from a daily down-low on the royals, I've forgotten how the press makes us obsessed with every detail of their lives. And with that in mind, I'm waiting for the next article..."Too posh to pick up poop? An in-depth review of whether a Duchess should carry out this task."

Oh by the way, the name of the dog? Lupo...

What Happened to the Simple Act of Revenge?

As I swept the floor this morning, I listened to CNN as they relayed a story of a man who killed his girlfriend because she dumped him. And then later, I read an article where a man killed a couple because they stopped being friends with his daughter on Facebook.

All of this makes me sad and really just worry about the state of people's minds today. Being slighted or dumped automatically means slaying someone? What happened to the good ol' fashioned, non-violent forms of revenge?

What exactly are we teaching the younger generation? That if someone annoys you, stops being your FB friend you off 'em? Really? It seems to have become the norm; imagine bumping into someone you know:

Bob: "Heard you and Shelia are no longer together, sorry to hear that..."
Billy-Bob: "Yeah man.."
Bob: "How are you dealing with it?"
Billy-Bob: "Oh, you know, I killed her...b*tch broke my heart man..."
Bob: "Yeah...right..."

Seriously, there are other ways to exact revenge. I mean why not shrink her favorite dress, sprinkle cress seeds on her keyboard or carpet or better still shove a rotting fish behind the radiator. Or, take a leaf out of Amelie's book - change the light bulb for a lower wattage one, swap the toothpaste for hemorrhoid cream, change the alarm clock so they get up at 3 in the morning not 7...

OK, it may cause some distress - but in the grand scheme of things...it's practically harmless, everyone stays alive and once you've committed these tiny acts of revenge, you can go on and find your true love.

By the way I'm not condoning these acts of revenge; it's always best to take the higher road, but sometimes...