"Dancing phalanges! Dancing phalanges!"

Tonight's "Bones" ("The Baby in the Bough") was, as I predicted, about eight kinds of cute. And also had me officially worshiping at the alter of Deschanel. I swear, Emily Deschanel was so good in this episode that I really won't be able to do her justice in my humble little blog. The woman makes acting look so easy and natural, totally effortless, and the way she has made her character grow over three seasons is just so awesome to watch. Temperence Brennan could probably be classified as a cold fish, but bring up family and things start warming up. Tonight it had her angry at someone, in their face. (And after an IMDb fact/face check, that face was that of Tom Wilson, who played Biff in "Back to the Future.") And in the end it had her welling up. Not crying like some diva looking for an award, just on the verge of showing emotion and holding it in to stay professional and at least trying to be impartial. Trying and kind of failing, but it's hard to not become attached to a baby for whom you've been caring, who ended up being taken care of right away instead of put through a questionable system (like she was). It was such a great performance.

Other fun things after the jump:

*Hodgins (TJ Thyne) indeed had a completely tactless method of turning Angela (Michaela Conlin) off wanting to have a baby - by telling her that he'll love her no matter how "mushy" or "wide" she gets. I was on the couch, icing my back after trying too hard at yoga three weeks ago then complicating matters last week by wearing heels around the city to see Emily's sister Zooey perform at Webster Hall. This made me actually sit up. I had to follow my eyebrows, which were trying to touch the ceiling. Oh, you nasty thing, Hodgins.

*As I said before: Nothing like good-looking men holding babies. David Boreanaz holding a baby, a little, round, smiley, roly-poly baby for nearly a whole episode was like a dream. It was kind of predictable, but I love watching Booth be a Daddy while Bones flounders. And I knew someone was going to get peed on, though I figured that one for my favorite clueless genius, which brings us to...

*Zack mistaking baby talk for orders. "No, no, no..." Click. Awww. Repressed memories? Oh, and nice beet story. It's like you were honestly trying to remember the last time your poop looked like that, and that's pretty damn funny. Zack never, ever gets it. Freaking love it. I sure hope he doesn't die. But if that means I might get to see Eric Millegan on Broadway, I'll consider it a deal.

*And next week: I hear there's a "shocking event," but I'm pretty sure it's not the one they showed in the preview. Why in the world would they do that? But Zack's line sounds extremely sinister out of context: "She knows we're out to destroy them." This is exactly the kind of line that ends up being funny. But we'll see - Hart Hanson seems to be full of surprises!

A last look at the Amazing Deschanels:

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Funniest. Fetus. Ever.

Is it any coincidence that on the same weekend "Baby Mama" is number one at the box office and I start watching my "Arrested Development" DVDs again Amy Poehler announces that she and Will Arnett are having a baby? I don't think so. You're welcome.

Because I must have thought of this when Amy and Will were banging each other like three months ago...obviously. Congratulations!

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Notes for a Monday morning

*Underage sex questions aside, Miley Cyrus looks busted in this picture:



*It took me almost an hour and a half to drive to work this morning because it was raining. I swear, Long Islanders panic at the thought of any hint of precipitation.

*If I ever get married, and I would generally like to if I can find someone with the patience of a saint, I will have a co-ed "wedding shower" instead of a bridal shower, and there will be no fucking games. Just presents, food and alcohol for all.

*Ken Levine is no longer on my shitlist. Turns out we are on the same page. Read his blog here, and hear from someone who wrote some classic sitcoms.

*The Huffington Post audience is not as tolerant as you'd think. After my recent article defending tattoos (which had placed Mr. Levine on my shitlist), nine highly important people with what I would imagine are multiple Ph.D.s in psychology, sociology and/or dermatology admonished me for having tattoos. I was called such colorful things such as "bimbo," "misguided" and was informed that I would look really ugly at 50. I saw the same posters commenting on other stories involving tattooed female celebrities, and they were still really riled up about those of us dirty, painted whores.

*I pulled my back three weeks ago and it hurts all over again. I don't like that, because I like wearing heels. They make my legs look longer, and I'm like all torso. If I can't bend over to pick up a shampoo bottle without wincing, is it time to talk to a doctor?

*I cannot wait for "Bones" tonight. There's a baby in it. There are three handsome men in the cast. And there are few greater things in my mind than good-looking men holding babies. I will be recapping/bloviating on this later tonight, post-broadcast.

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Don't mess with the ink (or the sensitive teenagers).

I am so flingin' flangin' tired right now. But I still had time to squeeze in a new HuffPo entry. I do, as I've mentioned, watch "American Idol," though last night I was out enjoying good music. But when I do miss it, I head over to the recaps written by Michael Giltz and Ken Levine. But Levine is on my shitlist now. Here's why:

HuffPo: Real Klassy: Juvenile Attacks on Idol's Easiest Targets

I'm more upset about the extremely cheap shots and bad jokes, but as you'll see, I don't like seeing some people put in the corner, baby.

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SHOCKING: Star Jones and that guy are getting divorced.

I read the news today, oh boy, but I still have every reason to believe that the institution of traditional marriage remains unthreatened, as long as it's nothing but heterosexual couples getting divorced. Like Star Jones "Reynolds" and Al Reynolds, who got married in 2004 with God, friends, family and several corporate sponsors as their witnesses. Obviously a holy, personal union from the start and not Star Jones trying to prove to us and herself that she can actually get someone to marry her, I guess the magic just ended? Or maybe their money ran out?

Does it really matter? No, because no one blinks an eye when the straights get divorced. It's becoming par for the course - don't tattoo someone's name on you, because you'll probably get divorced. Make sure you're making your own money and sign a pre-nup, because you'll probably get divorced. But spend vast amounts of money on the one-evening event that is your wedding, because even though you'll probably get divorced, all that matters is that you lost an inch of your hairline/gained 15 pounds/took up smoking so you can show up your friends via online photo album.

But heaven forbid the gays from getting married, or even being together in the first place! Two consenting adults in love with each other? Blasphemy!

Maybe now that traditional marriage now includes divorce, that's what all the gay-bashers are using as their loophole: You won't be able to get a divorce, ladies and gentleman, and if you're uneligible for divorce, you can't be a part of the tradition of marriage. And if you think I'm joking, I saw much more warped circular logic during the 2004 election season. And the lead-up to the Iraq War.

And if you guessed that I'm a bitter singleton, you are correct. I won't front.

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Don't call it a throw-back: She & Him are worth the back pain and sleep deprivation.

As I mentioned, I was lucky enough to see Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward (She & Him) perform at Webster Hall last night. My review: I heart them both. And Zooey Deschanel is the only person in the world who could get me to like any form of country music, and it's because she doesn't have a typical "country singing voice" (read: "bad singing voice"). She sings like the old-timey country singers, and my friend who got me the ticket (THANK YOU PETE) made the comment that she should have played June Carter Cash instead of Reese Witherspoon. But she doesn't just sing old-fashioned country music. With M. Ward's guitar, the two can be bluesy, jazzy or straight-up fun. Anyone who tries to pinpoint exactly what kind of musicians She & Him are should stop and just listen.

Zooey Deschanel also had no speaking voice (and spoke to us with signs and happy tambourine shakes), but Pete attested to her sounding just as good as she does on their album. But it was kind of obvious that she's not used to performing as a musician, which is fine by me since it's gives her a totally unpretentious air about her. "You know me for my acting, and now I'm gonna sing for you. I hope you like it!"

Definitely getting the album. And falling asleep at about 9:00 tonight. And taking Tylenol for my back, and not wearing heels again for a week. But it was worth it. And I think the magic left over enabled me to spell "tambourine" correctly on the first try.

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"I Don't Know What That Means" for April 22, 2008

This is my new semi-regular feature, based on a commonly-spoken line on "Bones" by Emily Deschanel's character, who has no connection to pop culture. As someone who gave up on MTV pretty much right after Pedro Zamora died and has spent the past three years in a newsy, politicky bubble, I can relate.

This week's edition: "Gossip Girl." Who are these people and why are their names so weird? What happened in the late 1980s that all these pretty young things have the goshdamn whacked names? If it was one of them, I wouldn't think it was all that odd, but it's like all of them: Blake Lively (a girl), Leighton Meester, Chace Crawford (who looks like a girl), Taylor Momsen, Penn Badgley.

Great. Now I sound like my mother. "Why can't they have normal names, like from the Bible?" You know, like Nicodemus and Zebedee. And I should really just shut the hell up, what with my boy's first name and unpronouncable German last name.

At least "Gossip Girl" is a scripted show with buzz, because what I really missed the boat on was "The Hills," which is listed as a "Documentary/Drama" on IMDb, and has now just officially caused me to consider ending my account there. Now, I might actually hate these people, and that makes me feel bad, because I don't know them personally at all. But I know at least one of them is ruining the life of Jossip's David Hauslaib. They're all over everything, and I have no idea why. I had one of my best friends, a guy like a brother to me, a guy whose taste and knowledge in pop culture I value tremendously, tell me what this was all about and then I realized he has actually fucking watched it.

Apparently, it's the "real-life version of 'The OC' in real life." "!!!!" But "The OC" ended last year. But since I can't give up IMDb, I just found out that the first "real-life version of the real-life OC" was "Laguna Beach," which started in 2004, a year after the fictional TV show. Oh, well that would make sense. What doesn't make sense is how these people, whose time in the spotlight should have ended once the original reason for their existence was removed from the air, have continued to make themselves matter in every tabloid, every blog, every celebrity media outlet, as if they'd contributed something to society that reached beyond being blonde and privileged.

But I guess that would be too much to ask, since in this age of reality television and YouTube, everyone deserves to be famous for something for a little while. I think I'd feel like an asshole if I was famous just for being Spencer Pratt, though. In fact, I think I might actually kill myself. After I kill him. No, scratch that. I want Spencer Pratt to live knowing that he's so much of a douchebag that people died unpleasantly because of it. And no, I'm not gonna boldface his name until he does something.

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Thank you for the distraction, Zooey.

Today is the Pennsylvania primary, 78 years since the last one. One freaking state votes today, and in the past 78 years (six weeks), the race between Sens. Obama and Clinton have had me calling for rawhide and quoting "Fatal Attraction."

So don't fuck this up, PA. I'll be seeing Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward (She and Him) at Webster Hall tonight so I don't have to think about this bloody primary. I have a special place in my heart for Zooey Deschanel for two reasons: She's Emily Deschanel's sister and they're both fantastic, understatedly talented actors, and Zooey and I were born on the exact same day - January 17, 1980. So I'd like to think that I'm just as cool. But I'm probably not.

Also, I am going to try to lay off "Bones" spoilers. See, it's a rough addiction, this show. I actually have pretty excellent things coming up, but they're not coming up until May 20th - the day after the season finale. I could 'splode, I really could.

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"He wasn't a goose. He was a man."

Tonight's "Bones" was actually recycled from last season, and here's my opinion: I want to see the original. It was called "Player Under Pressure," and it was originally going to run last April - right after the shootings at Virginia Tech. Of course, due to changes in storylines, facial hair and possibly regular haircuts, it had to be rejiggered to fit into Season 3.

My opinions on why I'm supremely disappointed about what's coming up on what I still contend is the "perfect show," despite its imperfections after the link, and a warning: possible spoilers follow.

Here is the original (April 2007) summary from tv.com:

All team members are working to identify the bones from a college athlete who suffered a lot of fractures. After the body is identified they talk to his sister and somebody who acted as a sort of an adviser for the deceased. Angela and Hodgins have an important talk. Zack is overwhelmed by having to reconstruct the crushed bones to form a skeleton.

The latter of the two plot points didn't happen, and were apparently replaced with what should have been an awkward situation between Angela (Michaela Conlin) and Cam (Tamara Taylor). Normally, I'd be a little freaked about my boss showing me a security video of me having sex. Angela seems to be A-OK. I know Angela's carefree and stuff, but honey...um...weird!

Obviously, the "important talk" was about Hodgins proposing to Angela (for the first time), which they've already resolved, so that was clearly in need of a fix. But what happened to Zack's storyline? Was the sex DVD awesome enough to overwhelm the minutes spent letting Eric Millegan finally do some acting this season? I don't know about that, but it points to the theory that made my heart hurt. (And it's ironic that the episode is, in fact, called "The Pain in the Heart.") I'll go into this more further down and continue with tonight's episode, for all three of you who might read this. Bottom line: there was an opening for a serious "King of the Lab" smackdown between the good Drs. Addy and Hodgins (TJ Thyne), and we were denied.

Anyway, this was an interesting story, and Booth (David Boreanaz) and Bones (Emily Deschanel) both made me laugh out loud. I love the fact that Booth is still hanging onto his macho, jockular youth and Bones very plainly tells him he's really no different than a caveman, what with his penchant for competition and practice battles. But she never does it to insult him, she's just stating anthropological fact based on her observations as a scientist. This is my favorite part about her character, and the other best time Bones ever drew conclusions like this was in "The Man in the Wall," when she was talking about how she loved the "tribal" nature of hip-hop music. Oh, silly white girl. I can so relate.

Other notes:

*As someone with a degree in Political Science from Hofstra University, as well as someone with a significant collection of tattoos (15), I was kind of insulted by this "not hot" "poli-sci tutor" who looked like she fell in flour and then sucked on a popsicle, then got freaky and tore her own hair out. Some of us wear blush and, I don't know, don't yank our own hair out.

*When I was in high school, I always thought it would be so macabre to discover a corpse behind the bleachers. They seemed dangerous, and kinda sick, but maybe this fascination came from getting mocked by jocks and being a big fan of "Scream."

*The girl who played the dead guy's girlfriend apparently went to the Renee Zellweger School of Acting, what with her blonde squintiness and whiny voice. I liked the fiancee of the other player/"Cutter" Cutler's daughter better. "I don't like you...I hate her."

*These boys and their meat. No, I'm not talking about Booth and his "Cocky" belt buckle. I'm talking about how Zack and Hodgins use meat products - actual pigs, Spam and now a turkey - to test how tissue reacts in certain situations. And this time, the turkey, like, popped. I've never seen that happen before. Fascinating.

*Heh, Booth said "Dippin' his wick."

*Come to think of it, Hodgins seemed to be as strangely unfazed by the discovery of his lunch hour supply closet tryst by his boss as his tryst-mate. What's with these people? Are they all really that close? Did the strike cause the producers and writers to have to gloss over a really wild, intimate night that they all had that would have explained why no one had any sort of look on their face upon knowing their boss saw them totally doing it? Am I just completely prude?

*Blending maggots+Cam's personal blender=Best ick face by Tamara Taylor ever. Millegan made a cute one during a body fluid discussion, but Tamara Taylor looked completely disgusted, confused and annoyed by the fact that her blender was labeled, damnit, and it still had fucking maggots in it. I like you now, Cam.

*On the subject of Virginia Tech, I suppose that a crime scene on a college campus would have seemed a bit wrong, especially two days after the shooting took place. Though the last scene was much more disturbing in the context of the shooting, when the person eventually revealed to be the criminal tried to turn a gun on himself. I was also thinking about the loss of the Washington Redskins' Sean Taylor, though that was obviously way after this episode was written. It was the right decision to pull it. Though I still think it was stupid to pull that "Buffy" episode after Columbine. It was snake demons! Come on!

Back to the speculation: I think I have some pretty good ideas about what could happen, and I'm preparing myself for it. And yes - I've become so attached to this show that I need to emotionally brace myself for something I've deduced from investigating online spoilers and putting Season 3 in perspective. Yeah, that's sarcasm. I will just say one thing: If Eric Millegan has decided to leave the show, or ended up being written off, then it was a real waste of a good character. I'll be really sad to not be able to watch this guy act, because I'm so curious about what else he's capable of. But if it means that he gets to find something where he does get to show his chops, all the better for him. But Zack Addy could have been a real fun character.

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Hillary Clinton ruined my day before 8:00 AM.

I have a new piece on Huffington Post today. Not sure when it'll be seen on the Politics page, but hopefully it can make it there. But yeah, Hillary Clinton ruined my day by saying one of the stupidest things I've ever heard - the exact opposite of what she said last month. Idiot.

HuffPo: Hillary, Are You Freaking Kidding Me?

Update: It's up!

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Hopefully these puppets won't scare me.

I'm going to make a confession that could really get me in trouble. It's about my biggest fear, my phobia, if you will. While I don't like heights or enclosed spaces and vomiting freaks me out, nothing scares me more shitless than most kinds of puppets. Yes, puppets. Mainly ventriloquist dummies, on some level marionettes and, after seeing "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" last night, Muppet-type puppets. (not exactly a spoiler, but Jason Segel's character ends up writing a Dracula musical for puppets. Now he and Nick Stoller, the director of the same movie will be taking on the next Muppet movie. I have a close, special kinship with the Muppets, being an American born before 1985, so I'm a little edgy about this. But I liked Jason Segel so very much that I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. As long as there are no dummies involved. ::shiver::

By the way, Jason Segel, as I commented on Huffington Post, I did not have an unfavorable reaction to your face. I like your face.

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If the Pope shit in NYC, would we know about it? Yeah, probably. Fox News is on his trail!

So, I live on Long Island, which is the fish-shaped malignant mass to the east of New York City. This means I have not had to deal directly with the Pope's visit, but the news had made it possible for me to have to do it anyway. I'm not sure if the people who run the media are aware of this, but not all of us who watch the news are Catholic, some of us aren't even Christian, and you can probably bet that the Jews, Muslims, Hindus and most definitely the atheists really don't give a holy crap if the leader of the Catholic church is here. And some of us (ahem, me) feel pretty uncomfortable having religion forced down our throats like this.

Needless to say, I am pissed that The Chris Matthews Show was pre-empted by the Pope, even though Matthews himself is probably super-psyched that he's here. But Chez Pazienza is funnier about it.

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My future firstborn's namesake gets married.

When being interviewed for a spot in an acting class, I was asked about a when I'd experienced the most joy. And I came up blank. But that weekend, I remembered that it had happened not too long ago - it was when the New York Giants won the Super Bowl. My dad was watching the Sports Illustrated DVD and it all came back to me. I remembered how incredibly happy I was during the playoffs to see the Giants completely upset the Dallas Cowboys, and then the Green Bay Packers, each in the respective weekends surrounding my 28th birthday. Then, with hardly anyone thinking it would happen (save for a few contrarians including my journalistic hero Keith Olbermann, see the video below), the Giants won the Super Bowl.

I swear, nothing in my life has made me happier than that moment, and it will take a hell of a lot to top it. I'm not even sure that even if I get married or have children (the latter of which I could still conceivably do without the former) that the pure joy and happiness I felt while watching Super Bowl XLII will be trumped. As someone who had a really crappy 2007, to watch the Giants, who started out rough and sure had their drawbacks, win the Super Bowl when NO ONE thought they would, it meant the world.

And this weekend, the Giants quarterback Eli Manning got married. Like I said, I'm not sure if this wedding tops winning the Super Bowl, but I'm sure he tells his new bride that she's totally the best thing about his life right now. No, really. But seriously, the very best wishes to the newlyweds!

And yes, I plan on naming my first son Eli. I hope whoever knocks me up is okay with that.

By the way, Keith: I so should have believed you. I will know better now. And please enjoy the 20/20 hindsight perspective on the other Super event that week, Super Tuesday. I'd talk about my other passion (politics) in this post, but I'm just too damn tired of it right now. It's why I'm acting again.

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So I'm stupid and I'm gonna die.

Yes, I am one of those people who always has a bottle of water with them, measuring out 64 oz. of water a day like some obssessive-compulsive freak. But now it seems like I've been pissing my life away. No, like actually pissing my life away, and possibly inviting carcinogens into the body I've been faithfully hydrating since high school.

This is not super recent, but here's the link to the CBS News story. And here's their bullshit-o-meter:

• It cleans all the toxins in your body. FALSE: Apparently we have organs in our bodies called kidneys that take care of this. Who knew? I thought they were just for punching.
• Your body weight divided by two - that's how many ounces you should be drinking. FALSE: They don't even know where this came from. I think Lewis Black does. He says once we had to buy water in bottles, that's when we had to drink as much as flingin'-flangin' possible.
• It improves skin tone and prevents headaches. I'm calling shenanigans on this "falsehood," because if I don't drink water after drinking alcohol, my skin looks like hell and my head feels the same way. Did they mean in general? Oh.

But this is not all. The bottle I use to drink too much water is now allegedly going to give me cancer, make me fat (!) or wreck my baby-making parts:

Highly durable and lightweight, resistant to stains and odors, and able to withstand extremes of hot and cold, screw-cap Nalgene bottles are marketed as an environmentally responsible substitute for disposable water bottles.

Citing multiple studies in the United States, Europe and Japan, the chemicals industry maintains that polycarbonate bottles contain little BPA and leach traces considered too low to harm humans.

But critics point to an influx of animal studies linking low doses to a wide variety of ailments — from breast and prostate cancer, obesity and hyperactivity, to miscarriages and other reproductive failures.

Who are the anti-water ad wizards who came up with this one? Even worse, the apple I had today was crappy. It was a crapple. Booo...no good.

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MySpace Greatest Hits: Why I'm Acting Again and an Addendum to the Last Post

Since I said I've saved my best posts for MySpace until actively trying to maintain this one, I thought I'd put up a recent 'Space post explaining why I've returned to the out-of-work entertainment industry. I'd link, but my profile is private.

And in a previous post, I begged a certain actor on "Bones" to assure me via email that he would be returning for Season 4, and he totally did. (Woah!) Well, he didn't tell me anything, but he did email me. At the risk of spoilage, I won't say who it was or what my concerns were, but understandably, he could not tell me very much, since that would likely get him in a bit of trouble. But if you want to read the same spoilers I did, get thee to Searching Bones. (Though, to be honest, it was not because he read this blog and responded. No one reads this thing. Not even my mother.)

But here is that post from April 8th. Context: It was written after a lackluster performance by yours truly. The People's Improv Theater in NYC is where I have produced and performed sketch comedy (not as much as I'd like), either with other sketch groups or through classes with the unbelievably hilarious and talented Kevin Allison. The Girly Girl Burleskapades was a weekly show featuring a host and a few comedy-burlesque/burlesque-comedy acts. This was my post-mortem after I hosted April 4th. I'm glad I was wearing a wig.

So, okay - not hosting material

Well, my short run with the Girly Girl Burleskapades is over, at least in the capacity as host. Why? Because frankly, I wasn’t good at it. I don’t think I’d go so far to say I bombed, or even tanked, but I definitely sucked. And please, don’t think I’m going around bashing myself or that this is some sort of self-esteem thing, because I can rock it onstage, trust me. I just don’t like talking to audiences.

Part of what I love about performing onstage is the separate world created on the actual stage, where the audience gets to pry into the business of fictionalized people, and actors get to play out scenes in raw, real time. I’ve never had the chance to do a real, red-meat scene, where the emotions would get so flared up that I and everyone onstage, and in the audience, all feel so freaking awkward like we just found out something monumental and life-changing and all the blood rushed into our ears at the same time. That whole feeling of "Should I, um, leave?...Oh, I guess I can’t" gets kinda screwed for me if I have to depend on an audience for a response as opposed to someone off of whom I’m acting. I hope I’ll get to do that one day.

I’m not saying "fuck you, audience," but you really cramp my style if I have to acknowledge your existence while I’m doing my thing. Please, just sit back and watch, laugh, cry, feel moved or awkward, and all in the dark, while I do the things to make you feel that way under the hot, unnatural lighting. (Which, by the way, makes it easier for me not to see you. No offense, but that’s what’s cool.)

As for film and TV acting (this is to my friends who direct me in such things), I still love that too, and fully plan on doing that as I venture out into the crazy acting world again. (Like an idiot.) Because let’s face it, who doesn’t want a second chance to really nail a scene? I will not complain for a second about doing 60 takes of something if it means that the 59th take was perfect and we got a really good goof on the 60th. (Who doesn’t love outtakes? [Note: I know - I'm obsessed with bloopers. I'll write about that another day.] ) And Sean, Mike and Pete, if you’re reading this and thinking I’m full of shit because of the "Jamie-sure-is-pissy" Ghouligans shoot recently, trust me - I’d do it again.

And you can still do a "red-meat" scene on film. It can be edited to show nuances in reactions, or it can be one long "I’m-freaked-but-I-can’t-look-away-is-this-really-happening" single take. I hope I’ll get to do that too. Shoot, I hope I’ll get to write a scene like that one day.

So, this is my thing now - I’m going to try acting again. I’ve attained a low-key job so I can get out of the house and build up some funds, and hopefully I’ll be taking classes this summer. [Note: I will be taking those classes - this was written pre-interview.]

...

I’ll keep everyone posted on PIT goings-on, but I urge everyone who can to check the place out and see shows! It’s cheap, sometimes even free, and it’s all original comedy!

Do it!

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I'm not ashamed that I watch American Idol.

One of the reasons is because it would be worse to deny, rendering myself a liar. But the other reason is that it makes me think I'm a music expert, even though I'm clearly not. I have horrible taste in music, at least compared to people who have reached beyond Billy Joel, showtunes, Queen and Weezer. I like good music, but I'm by no means a music fan like all my buddies are. They follow actual "bands" and "artists," of whom I have never or barely heard.

Anyway, another reason I like "American Idol" is because there is almost always a guy on it who reminds me of a guy in my life, past or present. Chris Daughtry from a couple of seasons back reminds me of a guy with whom I'm friends now, but had the kind of relationship in which we got along better when we weren't talking. This season, David Hernandez, the former-now-most-likely-current male stripper, reminded me of a butch Jai Rodriguez, with whom I attended high school. Also, the prematurely eliminated Michael Johns looks like he could be the hot older brother of a guy I dated last year, and David Cook reminds me of another guy I met in college. I try to gauge how cool the last guy is based on Cook's most recent performance, so this week, he's looking pretty good.

This is all a bit silly, but I'm really just glad Kristy Lee Cook is finally gone. She's not annoying, she's not even untalented, but she's boring as hay and I freaking hate country music.

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I read spoilers. Now my heart hurts.

As usual, I was on Searching Bones reading about the perfect show, and I was stupid enough to read spoilers. I have mixed opinions on spoilers, and there are some shows for which I refuse to read them. (Like "24" - won't read them.) But I read "Bones" spoilers, and since I allowed myself to become ridiculously invested in every single character on that show, I got really emotional at my desk this morning upon reading one of them.

I won't repeat it here, I'll just direct you to the article in question. And if the actor in question wants to shoot me a really quick note to inform me of their status next season, that would be really swell...

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OK, I'm really gonna try this now.

Thus far, I've been saving some of my best material for MySpace, which should be a crime. But now that some dust has settled, I'm going to attempt to really write for this blog, make it something worth reading for people, and maybe - maybe - even endow it with a point.

Those of you who came here from the 'Space know that I've been obsessed with the show "Bones" lately. Here's why, and why I'm taking a break (of sorts) from being a news junkie.

I'd been unemployed for about a month since being fired on Valentine's Day by a NYC PR firm that takes its copywriting way too seriously. Naturally, I turned to my old standby for daily entertainment and information, the 24-hour cable news channel that is neither CNN nor Fox News, MSNBC. (You know, the other one.) What happened? I watched it all day. And it's primary season. Between the blogs (including the one on which I post, the Huffington Post) and MSNBC, I was really starting to believe that every word that came out of Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and all of their supporters was pure, unadulterated evil, according to the punditocracy as well as Clinton, Obama, and all of their supporters. (John McCain, however, is somehow escaping unscathed. Keep working on that, Dan Abrams.)

After I felt like I was burst a blood vessel one early afternoon, I finally relented and watched the DVDs for the first two seasons of "Bones." And the love affair began. Next thing I know, I'm calling it the most perfect show on television. You will have to follow the link to read for yourself why I feel so strongly.

But I plan on posting a "Bones"-related blog every week, after each episode airs, whether it's new or a rerun, because I like it too much not to. And I like it so much that you need to know about it to, and I will tell you exactly why I like it so much.

I will also be posting a "Bones"-inspired feature called "I don't know what that means," a line said by Emily Deschanel's character more often in the first season, but no so much anymore. Her character, Dr. Temperence Brennan (aka "Bones"), is smart, but kind of unaware of pop culture references. Since I'm a news junkie more than anything, some aspects of pop culture have eluded me. Like I don't know who the hell is at any of the MTV awards shows anymore. And I'm 28, but I guess that's old?

So hopefully this blog won't suck for very long.

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