The Real World = Lots of Great TV

Weeeeeeeeeeee're baaaaaaaaack. 

Because all good things must come to an end, our perfectly-balanced-between-fun-and-relaxing spring break is over.  I spent nine days getting my body to adjust to staying up late and sleeping in, just in time to have return to work, just in time to have to force myself to wake up early again.  Boo for waking up early.  The good news is that there are only forty-five more school days until summer.  That's really not a lot of days.

And birthday week/month is over; we ate the last vestiges of it tonight.  (PS--Here's a great gift idea. Sneak Fresh Market ribeyes into your friend's refrigerator when you are house and dog sitting.  Your friend will be forever grateful.  Muchas gracias, Cris!)  Year twenty-nine has been pretty great so far, I must say.  If the next fifty point five weeks are as lovely, I'll be a happy, happy girl.

We don't really have anything exciting happening anytime soon, but there is a certain comfort in returning to our routine.  And since we are admitted television addicts, our routine includes way too much of the tube.  Here's what we've been watching of late:

• Breaking Bad.  We (and by we I mean Matt) have been hearing about how great it is for some time, but hadn't gotten around to watching it.  Why is it so good?  In case you haven't heard of it before, here's the premise: unsatisfied high school chemistry teacher finds out that he has terminal cancer, and begins cooking crystal meth to be able to leave money for his family.  And it's got the dad from Malcolm in the Middle, only now he's an evil genius.
• American Idol.  Psych!  We stopped watching this season.  It just sucked too bad and I couldn't stomach Cara.
• Amazing Race.  This season's coming to a close, but it's been great fun.  Plus, three of the five remaining teams are ones we chose: cowboys, gay brother/straight brother, and the idiot models.  Every time we watch Matt curses the models for still being in the race, even though he picked them.  If only the Buffalo Bills could be as successful as the stupid models.
• Top Chef Masters.  This hasn't actually started yet, but it does tomorrow, and we'll be watching and loving every second. 
• Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution.  Hugh and Cassie recommended this show (and Christina was raving about it), and I think Hugh put it really well when he described it as being one of the best-edited shows on tv.  And Jamie Oliver is officially one of my favorite British people. 
• Jeopardy!.  Always.  We're watching it right now.  It's 1:28 a.m.  Matt is ranting about how he would have won this game.
• Lost.  I'm really  not that interested since I know what the numbers mean, and that's all I really cared about, but I watch it anyway.  Just looking for closure, I suppose.  Tonight's episode was pretty good.  I like how Desmond and Jamie Oliver always call people Brother.  It's so endearing. 
• 60 Minutes.  We're really, really old. 
• The Pacific.  Matt's watching this; I'm not.  I'm sure it's good and all, but all those army boys all look the same to me, and I have trouble figuring out who's who.  And, yes, I'm quite stupid.
• Treme.  I will be watching this one.  The guys from The Wire doing a show about post-Katrina New Orleans?  Yes, please.
• 500 Days of Summer.  It's not a tv show, but we just watched it last night and I loved every second.  A modern-day Annie Hall, if you will.  Charming and funny and bittersweet.  Plus, it had the girl from Elf!

And here's a hump day video to get you through the day: President Obama playing HORSE--I mean, POTUS--with Clark Kellog, who is good at basketball.  (Better at basketball than damn Kentucky, who is not as good at basketball as I thought.)

The Glass Is Half-full of Cashew Chicken.

I love my life. It needs to be said more often.

I love how I am getting better at my job, and how shitty days at work (like today) are much less shitty than the shitty days of yesteryear.

I love that I have a Target five minutes from my house.

I love that I have a cuddly, amazing dog. If you haven't figured it out, I am obsessed with the dog.

I love that I have a not-as-cuddly, yet just as amazing husband. I don't want to gush too much or become like someone that I would hate and judge, but you should know that I might be even more obsessed with Matt than I am with Mitch.

And I love that, after a shitty day at work, I can go to Target and then come home and take a family snuggle nap with said dog and said husband.

And then I can wake up and talk to an old friend on the phone, discuss our shitty days and how much we hate the public at large.

And then Matt and I can cook dinner while watching crappy television. Hello, American Idol! (Go Brad Pitt looking guy, Andrew Garcia, and Todrick!)

And I love that we have learned to cook.

And I loved our dinner tonight. And I loved that I ate an obscene amount of it and it was only 750 calories.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm, cashew chicken.

There's basmatti under there. Mmmmmmmmmm, carbohydrates. . .

Cashew Chicken
from Everyday Food (September 2009)

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tablespoons dry sherry (or cooking wine, or leave out)
2 tsp. minced, peeled, fresh ginger (we used 1/2 teaspoon of ground ginger)
3 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch
coarse salt
1/2 cup chicken broth
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
1 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2/3 cup unsalted cashews, toasted
2 green onions, white and green parts separated and thinly sliced

Directions

In a medium bowl, toss chicken with sherry, ginger, and 1 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch; season with salt. Refrigerate 30 minutes. In another bowl, combine broth, soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, and 2 teaspoons cornstarch. Set sauce aside.

In a large nonstick skillet, heat 1 tablespoon oil over medium-high heat. Add half the chicken and cook until golden and cooked through, about 5 minutes. Transfer chicken to a covered plate. Add 1 teaspoon oil to skillet and cook remaining chicken (reduce heat if chicken is over-browning). Transfer to plate.

To same skillet, add 1 teaspoon oil, garlic, cashews, and green onion whites. Cook, stirring constantly, until garlic begins to soften, about 30 seconds. Whisk sauce and add to skillet along with chicken. Cook until sauce thickens, about 30 seconds. Top with green onion greens and serve with rice or noodles.

Serves 4. (Serves three if you're fatties like us.)

To read more about it, check out The Bitten Word's (new favorite food blog) post on it. Their review of the recipe mirrored what Matt and I talked about, eerily so even. But after reading their post I feel like I would be plagiarizing if I went into more detail.

American Idol Hollywood Week!

It doesn't get much better than Hollywood week, and my favorite part of Hollywood week is when the contestants have to work in groups. (For the record, I personally hate working in groups. I'd much rather do things on my own than to have to depend on a bunch of goons.) The group performances are so great because they bring out the absolute worst in people, and it's hilarious to watch. I can't peel my eyes away. The more words that the contestants forget, the more Matt yells at the tv, and the more fun I have during the whole process. It's absolutely delightful.

Right now we have some favorites. Forgive our gross stereotypes and overgeneralizations. It's hard to remember all of the names at this stage in the process. Here they are:

• Brad Pitt looking shirtless guy
• Hot Boston girl (Ashley Rodriguez?)
• Hispanic guy with glasses who sang "Straight Up"
• Big Mike whose wife just had a baby
• Little white boy who was in Team Awesome with Big Mike
• Black chick who was in the group with Hot Boston girl
• Taylor Brady
• Chick who sang "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman" last night

Are you watching this season of AI? If so, who are your favorites?

And for the record, I am pretty happy with Ellen's judging so far. Since Simon is leaving, I want Neil Patrick Harris to replace him, and I want Katy Perry to replace Kara, because I hate Kara.

Notes on American Idol

Matt and I were anti-Idol until the writer's strike a couple of years back. The absence of good TV left us longing for something more, and, desperate for some new television, we threw away our pride.

Yay for throwing away pride.

So, yeah, I'd scoffed and mocked, but Simon Cowell has made me a believer. Here's why:

• Simon is hot. Like hot hot. Like surly British guy who says things like "Chin up" to a crying wannabe singer hot.
• I love passing judgment. Idol provides a great judgment-passing forum. At this point, too, Matt and I are pretty good at predicting what the judges will say. We like to play little predicting games here (similar to our Jeopardy! winning in life game or our "guess what time it is" game), where we predict exactly what the judges will say. You can't go wrong with some, "Dawg, you could sing the phone book!"
• The heartwarming stories. I usually don't get through a single audition episode without sobbing a little. This girl's taking care of her ailing grandma? That girl's dad died the day before? His WIFE died? I could start crying just thinking of past audition shows.
• Ryan. What a strange little man. Remember when he tried to high-five the blind guy?
• Hollywood Week. I f'ing love Hollywood Week. I especially love the group auditions and the drama they bring.
• I love when it's obvious that the judges have hangovers.
• Singing and dancing! Horray for singing and dancing. Second to watching Center Stage twice a week, Idol is the best place to go for singing and dancing fun.
• Wide appeal. I love that I can talk to colleagues, students, my sister, and my grandma about this show. There's something special about a show that appeals to such a wide range of people.

Now, this isn't to say that I love everything about American Idol. I've tired of the gimmicky weirdo auditions and people who try too hard (and, no, "Pants on the Ground" does not fall into this category. That song is BRILLIANT!). I hate the long commercial breaks (we wouldn't watch the show at all if it wasn't for DVR). And I really hate Kara.

I hate how she makes bedroom eyes at young boys. And I hate how she claims every pop song is brilliant (stole that one from Matt. No, Kara, Shania Twain's "I Feel Like a Woman" is not the masterpiece you claim it to be).

Hopefully, this cool cat ("think you a cool cat?. . .lookin' like a foo' with your pants on the ground") will compensate for Kara's tremendous suck.

I've loved Ellen since her ABC sitcom days, since the time her show was called These Friends of Mine and not Ellen. She's super funny and sassy.

Plus, it was from Ellen that I stole one of my favorite games of all time: pretending that the plots of movies actually happened to me. It's best to play this game when in line at a tourist attraction. Tanya and I used to do this like champions. "Hey, Tan, remember that time you went to that vacation resort with your family and then fell in love with that dance instructor? That was crazy! I can't believe your dad thought he'd knocked up that girl!"

Try it sometime. And thank Ellen. And watch American Idol. It's really fun, and Simon's sexy.

Paula Puppet is BACK!

We've been swamped this week, both because of legitimate adult reasons and because American Idol auditions are on this week. Will this season bring us another Adam?

And the return of American Idol signals the return of Topher Payne's Paula puppet. The Paula puppet makes me believe that all is right with the world.

And, just in case you have been hiding under a rock all day, here's "Pants on the Ground."

". . .lookin' like a foo' with yo' pants on the ground."

Splitsville

A little birdie (okay, People online) told me today that Adam Lambert has split with his boyfriend.

[source]

I'm sad for Adam, but want him to know that I'll be here (and so will Matt, if that's what he's looking for) to comfort him. And by "comfort" I do mean "seduce."

You're a Treasure

I have a confesion to make. I like the song "My Heart Will Go On" from Titanic. I really like it. I put it on the Zune and sing it at the top of my lungs.

The neighbors probably assume that we've invited Celine Dion over to hang. I feel like I have a really really good singing voice, even though others may confuse it for a chorus of dying cats.

I was going to try to share my talent with the world via American Idol, but since Paula has quit, I don't know what I'll do. Surely Randy and Simon (and even super-annoying Kara) would mock me endlessly. I'll need Paula there. I'll need her "positive energy." Come back, Paula!

And no post about Paula would be complete without a link to one of my favorite things on the planet, Topher Payne's vlog about American Idol. Topher is the nephew of one of my coworkers, he's written a book, and he writes about a play a week. I want Topher to become rich and famous. Check out his vlog! Do it! And then listen to "My Heart Will Go On" one more time. You may just love it.

Delilah, Love Someone Tonight

Recently the antenna on the Volvo broke, so I've struggled to find a radio station that gets reception. I normally just listen to NPR, but my NPR station is often fuzzy now, especially at night for some reason. I don't have many CDs, and I've tired of the American Idol CD I made.

So I've returned to an old favorite, on the Savannah station 98.7 (The River!). It's Delilah. It's horrible and I hate it, but really I love it. I hate her but really I might love her. I hate the people who call in and who email her, and I really do hate them.

In case you haven't had the pleasure of listening to Delilah, let me educate you. Her show is kind of a cross between Dear Abby and the worst dedication show you've ever heard. She has a voice like butter, she's deeply compassionate, and she plays horrible soft rock hits that I love. Like so many things in my life, her show is simultaneously the best and the worst thing that's ever existed (please excuse my love of hyperbole).


The greatest part of Delilah's show is the strange and lonely people who call her. So many times I've heard them say that they listen to her every night in their living room. WHAT? Is this the 1930s? Don't these people have TV? Computers? I just picture these callers, surrounded by cats, with some old-fashioned radio, sitting in a torn up recliner in a dark and dingy living room.

What I can't seem to understand is why these people turn to Delilah to talk to when they want to share their joys and their sorrows. Why her? Don't they have friends, family, or therapists? I think they need to find some. And just to be clear, Delilah can give some terrible advice. She's no Dear Prudence.

When I first moved to Savannah I listened to Delilah more than I would care to admit (but always in the car--never at home!). Her show runs from 8 p.m. to midnight, and I would listen when I was returning home from work or on my way to visit Matt. Most of the time I just mocked the callers and Delilah, but occasionally the show and the stories shared would touch my heart. On more than one occasion I arrived home sobbing about whatever sad story I had just heard.

My friend Tori and I used to play a game where we would listen to the caller's story and try to predict what song Delilah would play. Often these songs are highly inappropriate (like people who play that John Mayer "Daughters" song at their wedding), but the title seems to fit. Usually the winning songs were by Whitney Houston or Boyz 2 Men, and they had to be at least 10 years old.

Last night Matt listened to Delilah with me. This girl called in and was talking about how her father just died and how she was getting married in a month. Delilah suggested that she move the wedding date, but the girl said it wasn't a possibility. They continued to talk; the girl was on the verge of tears the whole time, and Delilah offered her sympathy. Matt and I talked about how depressing this show was, but quickly tried to guess the song Delilah would play. My guess: "Butterfly Kisses." Matt's guess: "Stairway to Heaven." He doesn't really understand Delilah just yet.

Delilah played Madonna's "This Used to Be My Playground." We were both wrong.

And the winner is. . .Kris?

Adam didn't win.

My favorite Matt comment during the show: "Since when did Rod Stewart become the guy from Love Actually?"

Also, I love the song Steve Martin wrote. I will be downloading it. Something about pretty flowers.

Congratulations to Kris, formerly known to us as "cute boy," and the one who makes the funniest faces whilst singing. I will download his album when it comes out, since I can't resist the soothing quality of a whiny boy singing and playing the guitar.

Go Adam!

All the cool people know that tonight is part one of the finale of American Idol. Matt and I mocked AI for years, but finally became interested last year during the writer’s strike, when nothing else was available to watch. What we hadn’t realized for all of those years is that AI is fantastic. There’s something really special about a show that appeals to me, my grandma, Matt's parents, and my students all at the same time. And there’s something even more special about Adam Lambert.


Oh, Adam. . . He’s kind of like Elvis gone punk. I’ve gushed about Adam to the point where Matt might leave me. I’ve spent hours on the phone voting for him, and I’ve downloaded all of his performances on iTunes. It’s probably true that Adam would be much more interested in Matt than in me, but I don’t care. He’s going on the list!


What seems really funny to me is that when we were younger, my friend Tanya and I had a string of beautiful Adams with whom we were obsessed. There was Adam the Jehovah’s Witness with one eye (well, he was blind in one eye), there was Adam with the webbed feet, there was her neighbor Adam (we would take pictures of him with her mom’s nice camera with the powerful zoom lens). And now there’s guyliner skinny jeans Adam. It feels like my life is coming full circle.


By the way, my grandma is also an Adam Lambert fan.