Caterwauling

But first, a housekeeping note.

THE SUCKIEST BIRTHDAY ON EARTH, INTERRUPTED BY NON-SUCKITUDE

I received flowers today.

*gasp*

Like, holy crap and no shit, someone thought of me today. No one was more surprised than me.

I got a call from the receptionist to come pick up a package at the front desk. No big deal — I’m always ordering shit off the Internet, so I didn’t even think about it. For a minute, I did wonder because I’d thought I’d received everything for the time being, but enh. Whatever.

So I went to the front desk and saw this big thing o’flowers. I looked right past it and asked for my box. Whereupon I was told duh, you old-ass bitch (OK, not in those words!), those flowers are yours.

I was stunned. Seriously, just wowed. Everything was vibrant, in pinks and purples. I especially appreciated the pink hydrangeas in it. In any event, though, I was floored that I’d actually told someone where I work, because that’s not info I’m apt to share because that’s the one place I can count on being completely disassociated with things like reality!

PITY, PARTY OF ONE

In any event, thank you to all who stopped here or in person to leave a birthday wish and/or say or do something nice today. The funk that fell upon me this particular year was more vicious than most, although perhaps it was just pent-up from years of just plain old disappointing days. One of my favorite songs is Don Henley’s “The Last Worthless Evening,” no doubt because you just hope that you’re going to wake up and all your dreams are going to come to fruition.

And maybe mine don’t because my faith just slips away like sand through a sieve, just like my youth seems to be. But I do feel like these wonderful days should be celebrated. And I guess I do, in my own ways. When I get around to it. Someday.

NOW, WE RETURN TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED NAVEL-GAZING

Joy of joys, Taylor Hicks won “American Idol”! Yay! Katharine McScreechy, the stuck-up, obnoxious brat who competed against him, got her stupid ass sent home. You know, I have one word for McFuckhead and McMother — VPL. Yes, boys and girls, you can wear your skintight hoochie-mama dresses till the cows come home, but I don’t care if you’re a size 4 or not, if your panties don’t fit, your dress becomes a mess. Seriously. Bikinis don’t mesh with $500 evening gowns in a size 0 when you know you need a size 6.

Taylor Handled his win with such class. In the midst of his song, he thanked the band, the producers, the judges and America. I’m sure Katharine would have hogged the spotlight all to herself. GAWD, when she was onstage with Meatloaf — which would be a fucking HONOR — she acted like she was the only one there. I mean, he’s a LEGEND … a freaking ICON, and there he was singing his amazing, amazing “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” with all the passion he could muster.

And in her usual fashion, she oversang it and sang over him, just happily belting the shit out of the song. That was her whole problem all season — she and Paris loved to do their songs at full-decibel level. Thank god she scaled back and was all sensitve and shit with “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” — that was her ticket to the finals because she finally made you feel the melody without walloping you over the head with it.

I had signed into iTunes to buy Taylor’s song on the new “AI” CD. And the service shows the most-downloaded songs from that album. No joke, in order, Chris Daughtry’s song was the best-seller, followed by Elliot Yamin’s, then Taylor’s and then the hoebag’s. I had purposely waited till that day to buy Taylor’s — I figured some other Mac nerd would be taking the same inventory to show that if America had its way, the recent outcasts would be the true Idols. But more importantly, the finalist whose song was selling better would be the winner, statistically speaking. And I was right! Woo hoo!

And yes, this is the first time I’ve voted for the winner. I still think Clay Aiken should have won season two, and wow he rocked socks during the finale. When he appeared onstage while they were letting that reject sing, I had to laugh because the non-talent kept trying to sing to compete with Clay. I was so happy when Ryan pulled up a chair and seated the kid and encouraged him to rest his mic so that Clay could finish the song and do it justice.

The highlight of the show for me, other than a very deserving Taylor walking off with the title (but did I hear it right that McScreechy’s dad is a record producer? The hell?!?!), was when Chris Daughtry was performing with Live. I *~*heart*~* Live. I heart Live even more now that I’ve seen Chris and Ed Kowalczyk sharing a stage like old friends. (Lord, those two looked like they were separated at birth — I suddenly found myself quite attracted to Ed!)

And Mandisa. Ah, Mandisa. Even though she was pretty much relegated to the chorus of contestants who hadn’t finished in the top five, she still stood out. Everyone else pretty much just sang their little parts. Not her — she personalized every single moment of the few she was afforded to show the nation her originality and scope and just plain ol’ fabulosity.

I was sort of bummed that Taylor’s performance with a star turned out to be “In the Ghetto” with Toni Braxton. It was great, don’t get me wrong. But I have been waiting for Michael McDonald to get his ass on the show and do his thing with Taylor. Seriously, a nice rendition of “I Keep Forgettin'” would have melted the damn stage.

In any event, my girlfriend called from the West Coast to ask who the winner was so that she didn’t have to watch it, and I insisted that she watch the show because it was fantastic — especially the awarding/bringing back of several rejects. I mean, who didn’t love seeing “Brokenote Mountain” again? Those poor boys were so serious, singing their widdle hearts out. This was their chance, and they knew it — their one shot to be *discovered.* I thought they did well, but I don’t see any recording contracts in their future.

I, however, see myself going to a summer “Idol” concert when they come to D.C., and I don’t care if I have to go by myself. However, if any of y’all are psychotically addicted to the show like me and want to come with, you bring the wine and I’ll pack a pickanick basket and our beloved contestants will supply the cheese. … 😉 Who’s with me?!!?

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 25th, 2006 at 9:34 PM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.