Simon Says

For the first time ever, I'm jumping on the American Idol Bandwagon. Now, it may be because the writers' strike has left us thirsting for new television, any new television, but I'm totally a fan now.

I admit, I've been a skeptic in the past. I've been put off by the William Hung's of the world and refused to take part in non-scientific voting over the phone.

But no more, my friends.

Along with the rest of American, I've been seeking an idol. I've been with them from the beginning, gone through the heartbreak of Josiah's departure, suffered through a man dressed like a bird, and cheered on the three Idols from Indiana. My favs? So far I'm digging Amanda (from Mulberry, IN), Luke (from Crawfordsville, IN) and David (not from Indiana, but still good).

Results show is tonight, so I'll be glued to my television, while Ryan Seacrest makes us wait until after the commercial break.

Seriously

I'm going to take a break from my normal rants about celebrity indiscretions and focus for a brief moment on Election 2008 (cue stock music...now!).

I've finally gotten off my duff and started really paying attention, now that the field is narrowing down and the Indiana primary has a chance of actually mattering. From the beginning, Hillary has been my gal. I think she's got the brains, the experience and know-how to get things done from day one. While Barak seems fine, I'm just a tad concerned that his experience is definitely lacking.

And so, armed with my increasing political fervor, I began to watch the debate last night.

What a mess.

First of all, shame on you Tim Russert, for your hypothetical leading questions and a focus on the politics of a campaign rather than the issues that taxpayers actually care about. We actually have a fairly engaged electorate and what do you give them? What they expect--opponent bashing, politics as usual questioning (and answering) rather a debate about real issues.

And Hillary. Dear Hillary. She's her own worst enemy. Yes, we know you are getting the first questions. But rise up to it and don't wallow in the pettiness of a presidential campaign. And, stop listening to your campaign "experts" and go with your gut. Your gut will tell you what people want to hear. That's something Bill excelled at and something I know is in her Ivy League educated, political activist, health care banner raising, women's issues caring heart...somewhere.

Barak shined yet again...but with no clear vision and a naivete that scares the crap out of me. We've already got one president who got voted in by being likeable and filled with assurances that his old buddies could help him out if he got elected. And look where that got us. No thank you.

The good news? The debate's not over...yet. We've got until November (or at least the Ohio and Texas primaries) to "be the decider."

GOTV, readers.

Blue

I am so over winter.

For the last month, with freakish regularity, we've received 1-3 inches of snow twice a week, whether we need it or not. It's not enough for a snow day or even to go sledding. No, it's just enough to make the commute a living hell and ensure that you fall on your butt due to ice at least every other day.

I'm beginning to think that there's something to that whole SAD thing. I know that I am just a few snowfalls and one temperature dip below zero from sinking into a Virginia Woolf-like depression and hibernating in my bed until spring. Perhaps I can be like Punxsutawney Phil and predict how many weeks until Spring. I mean, he's got a pretty good gig. He works one day a year.

And now, brought to you by the people on the information superhighway who have no life....the Spring Countdown Clock. No, no, no need to thank me. This is my gift to you.

And the Oscar goes to....

I'd like to thank the Academy. Not, of course, because I've won an Oscar. No, I'd like to thank the Academy for wasting precious hours of my life by forcing me to watch who won for best makeup (Norbit, you were robbed).

Fortunately, I had good company, good food, and good booze to keep me entertained. Along with games, of which I was the winner...again.

A few highlights of the evening:

• My very very favorite moment was when Gary Bussey accosted Jennifer Garner and kissed her on the neck. She looked like she had been attacked by an electric eel. She seemed doubtful that Ryan Seacrest could protect her from Gary's "affection" and opined that she wished Ben was there. So did Ryan.
  
• Um, I'm pretty sure that John Travolta is using that spray-on hair that you see on infomercials. It was unnaturally black for a man his age and had a well-formed widow's peak like Dracula.
• John Stewart did a pretty good job this year. Although he still seems rather nervous to be in front of an audience. He is a comedian, right? Isn't that his job?
• The only major fashion miss for me was some unknown who had a giant brooch right in the middle of her boobs. I think it was maybe supposed to be a necklace, because there were two of them (vertically aligned...the neclace, not her boobs), but it was just a hot mess.

To my supreme disappointment, I did not see anyone trip on their train or miss a step running up to grab Oscar. Maybe next year...

Confession is Good for the Soul

Dear Readers,

I feel that it is necessary to come out with the fact that as I type, I am falling off my "no caffeine" Lenton bandwagon.

And in no small way. In the last 10 minutes, I've taken in a good 16-17 ounces of sinful Mountain Dew goodness. While Jesus died for my sins on the cross, I am apparently unable to show my devotion by eliminating sugar sodas from my life for more than 13 days.

This, after nearly two weeks of no caffeine has me on a sugar high and caffeine overload. I'm pretty sure I'm typing at one thousand words per minute and have a shaky edge to my voice like Chyna on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew.

I will be praying for strength in the days to come and vow to break my caffeine addiction "one minute, one day at a time."

Do they have a 12-step program for those who can't live with out Mountain Dew?

And the award goes to...

Finally! The stupid writers' strike is finally over.

Which means that this Sunday, the Oscar's will be filled with the normal fashion hits and misses, long speeches and horrible teleprompter jokes. This, of course, is in direct contrast to the Golden Globes where there were only two people on TV making long speeches and horrible teleprompter jokes.

I have to say, I've been abnormally lax about my own viewing of nominated movies. In fact, I've seen not a one. Unless you count Ratatouille.

However, what I lack in actual film knowledge, I will totally make up for in trashy magazine know-how. I am completely up to date on my United States Weekly and wwtdd.com. If, for example, someone would pause from their cinematic theory on Atonement to ask what Lindsay Lohan has been up to, I'm totally there.

Medical Mystery

So for the last three days, the tip of my nose has itched. Just the tip. It kinda feels like I've got a hair or something brushing against it---light, but just enough to be annoying.

I'm of course convinced that this is a symptom of some horrible terminal disease.

I asked Friend Christa, who is going to nursing school, to help diagnose. She very helpfully told me that someone was thinking about me.

Hmmm. I wonder about the nursing program at IUPUI with these kind of medical answers. That crazy Jamaican psychic Cleo could have told me something a little more helpful.

Here's to hoping that it's not cancer of the nose-tip or the beginnings of epilepsy.

In Related News

In related Valentine's news....Governor Mitch Daniels apparently has stopped with the brain drain initiatives and instead is promoting...pregnancy?

At a recent graduation ceremony at Anderson University he finished his surely inspiring speech with the charge to "Go forth and make babies."

This is nearly as good as when he had to use a stool to reach the microphone during a speech at the statehouse.

Feel the Love

You know it must be a major Hallmark holiday when my curmudgeon of a boss comes in exclaiming, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

I nearly fell out of my chair.

Despite being single (again) this year, I must confess that I do love Valentine's Day. Mostly because of the fun decorating, cute pink accessories and who can resist those little Necco sweathearts? Makes me want to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and start a card-making business.

I'm sure it is a decidedly less LOVEly day for IU's coach Slimy Sampson. You know it's bad when even the Indianapolis Star decides you're morally corrupt (pot, kettle, etc).

Now I'm not real familiar with the rules of the NCAA, but I am a devout watcher of Friday Night Lights, and according to my Coach Taylor knowledge, this is bad. Very bad.

Happy VD, readers. Enjoy your day.

Bring It Back Now

Reading back through my posts....thought I would bring this one back in honor of the recent political hubbub.

Help Wanted

Position: Presidential Candidate
Employer: We, the People

Qualifications: Must be over 35 years-old (sorry for the age discrimination!), have appropriately graying hair, wear suits most of the time, unless conversing with "the people", in which case, a nice polo will do.

Desired traits:

• Team Player (most of the time)
• Good public speaker--ability to speak without talking points a plus.
• Knowledge of domestic and foreign policy--or at least a desire to learn and former college roommate who "knows that kind of stuff."

Resolutions

My friends are making resolutions for 2008 right and left. Me? I got nothing. At the very least, though, I can get back on the blog bandwagon. For all of my readers. That would be you.

I've spent the day so far being entirely too productive at work. Something that must stop right now.

So in addition to taking a break to blog ( love the alliteration), I'm also examining the possibilities of a new ipod. Sadly, during a run for garlic cheeseburgers last weekend, the ipod began making what is technically known as "sad ipod face" and hasn't worked since. Instead, it makes a sickening whirring sound and makes me curse apple.

Instead of sticking it to the man, I get the feeling it's being stuck to me.