Thank You, VH1

So, VH1 has been running these shows all week that feature the Top 100 One-Hit Wonders from the 1980s. Now, I have a shitload of 80s pop on my iPod -- so much that I thought I could never be missing any songs that used to give me such cheesy pop pleasure back in the day.

I was wrong! I found myself jotting down all kinds of tunes that I didn't have. How could I be missing "99 Luftballoons" by Nena? "Supersonic" by JJ Fad? "Tenderness" by General Public?

Anyway, then I started reminiscing and realized I was missing tons of other tunes, too. Like Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation," "Jack & Diane" by John Mellencamp. I had no Huey Lewis & the News tunes, only two by Duran Duran and no "Footloose?" Blasphemy! No 80s playlist is complete without such things.

I have totally been living in the past. But it's been nice, because my present has been super-suckfest for the past couple of days. Now, I'm heading back over to iTunes to grab a few more songs.

24 is back -- and so is Tony Almeida!

Poor Jack Bauer.

The put-upon main character of 24 (played by Kiefer Sutherland) has gone nearly as many rounds over the years with the U.S. government as he has terrorists. One minute, our country is punishing Bauer for ignoring procedure on matters of terrorism and national security. The next, he's being summoned from (insert one: a Chinese prison, his job with defense secretary James Heller, his work at an oil refinery, etc.) because he's the only one who can save the American people from evildoers.

In other words, he's Batman with more guns and better instincts, minus the goofy outfit.

And when 24 finally returns for its four-hour, two-night season seven premiere extravaganza (8 p.m. Sunday and Monday nights on FOX), things haven't changed much.

After having turned himself to the U.S. government in order to save the lives of African children in November's prequel, 24: Redemption, Bauer is now in a Senate hearing regarding his inappropriate actions during his time with CTU. And he's questioned for approximately three minutes before FBI Agent Renee Walker (Annie Wersching) retrieves him.

CTU has been disbanded, so the feds are handling terrorism threats and – surprise, surprise – they need Bauer immediately.

The current threat: Bauer's old CTU buddy, Tony Almeida (Carlos Bernard), has miraculously risen from the dead and is thought to be operating a homegrown terrorist group that is allegedly working with/for a dangerous African militia. (Almeida's resurrection will be explained in the premieres.)

As is fairly typical of the show, the first couple of hours are filled with various storylines that will inevitably intertwine. And they're all the kinds of things that always make 24 so action-packed and edge-of-your-seat exciting.

Kidnapping and deep-seeded government corruption? Check. Snipers, rapid gunfire eruptions and secrets kept from the President? Uh-huh. People stupid enough to think that they know better than, or can control, Bauer? Of course. Bauer escaping a highly secure government facility in the most ridiculous manner imaginable? You bet.

And oh, how I've missed Bauer's catchphrases: "We're running out of time!," "Dammit!" – and my personal favorite – "DO IT!," which usually follows a command such as "drop your weapon!"

Now, you can never get too attached to people on 24 because so many of them bite the dust, but season seven introduces some intriguing new characters that we hope stick around. Janeane Garofalo shows up as slightly neurotic Agent Janis Gold, who appears to be the FBI version of CTU's Chloe O'Brian (Mary Lynn Rajskub). Agent Walker looks like she'll be a total rogue/bad-ass -- a female Bauer, perhaps?

The decisive leadership style of new President Allison Taylor (Cherry Jones) also shows a lot of promise. Early on, she proves that she's willing to go head-to-head with her advisers, focus on solutions instead of problems and follow her gut instincts. What remains to be seen is if those instincts are any good.

As for throwback characters, it's great to see Almeida back – he was always a fan favorite and for the ladies, a nice bit of eye candy. (He's got a gnarly scar above his left eye now -- sexy!) But other popular CTU alums will also make their way back come Monday night. CTU may be shut down, but several old staffers are still in play.

Ultimately, 24 fans will be pleased come Sunday and Monday, especially after such a long hiatus between seasons. While the intense, fast-paced the formula is the same, several fresh storylines (the competence of the FBI vs. CTU, in particular) will invigorate the series.

So mark your calendars or set your DVRs right now.

DO IT!

Break out the KITT-Kats, it's time for Knight Rider!

The only thing better than watching your favorite TV show is tuning in with your own personal peanut gallery. If I had the time and energy (and if my friends actually watched all the crap I watch), I'd host viewing parties every night of the week.

I really love the idea of creating a theme party, and often it can be done with stuff you already have at home or with relatively little expense. Here are some ideas I'm toying with:

Survivor
The show: Contestants starve, camp, compete and argue for a cash prize.
Snacks: Starving and camping inspired foods: 10 grains of rice for each guest; pork ‘n' beans; S'mores; water (boiled for cleanliness). Offer twigs as utensils.
Decor: Easy decorations could include things we take for granted, such as deodorant, toothpaste, shampoo and clean underwear. You could also uild a kiddie shelter out of couch cushions, chairs and sheets. If you're feeling ambitious, drag a TV and a really long extension cord into the back yard and set up all of the above in a giant camping tent.

Knight Rider
The show: A remake of the 1980s favorite about a man and his futuristic car.
Snacks: Stoplight Jell-O shots in red, yellow and green; pasta salad made with wheel shaped pasta; Kit(t)-Kats.
Decor: Hot Wheels; traffic cones; a GPS (which is as close as we will get to our own KITT); and for nostalgia purposes, you must have this David Hasselhoff poster.

Nip/Tuck
The show: Plastic surgeons from Miami make their way in L.A. while dealing with myriad egos and personal dramas.
Snacks: Boobie cookies; prescription pain killers; and Julia's favorite fruit cake (minus poison).
Decor: Toy scalpels (Halloween is coming, so stock up); hand-held mirrors; wax lips; silicone push-up pads (removed from Victoria's Secret bras); Sharpies (circle your cellulite during the commercials!).

Californication
Snacks: Viagra, vodka, marijuana.
Decor: A candy dish filled with condoms, brochures to Sex Addicts Anonymous; Mood rings. (Get it? Hank Moody!)

Rock of Love Tour Bus
The show: Slated for early 2009, Bret Michaels will look for another girlfriend (cough*hooch*cough) as he travels around the country on a bus performing at state fairs.
Snacks: Insulin, Budweiser, HoHos, penicillin.
Decor: Personalized back stage passes for each guest; roses; thorns; tubes of black liquid eyeliner.

Dexter
The show: While working in Miami's crime lab, a sociopath lives an underground life as a serial killer.
Snacks: Blood oranges (naturally), donuts (which Dex always brings to his girlfriends and coworkers), tteak and beer (Dexter's dinner of choice).
Decor: Miniature plastic dolls in tiny body bags; and the tools of Dexter's trade: Saran Wrap, blood slides, and duct tape.

Easy Money
The show: A drama series about a family of loan sharks.
Snacks: If you're struggling financially because you're in debt, this might be a perfect party for you to throw. Serve wine in a box; Ramen noodles; chocolate coins.
Decor: Credit counseling information; Monopoly money; Suze Orman books.

America's Toughest Jobs
The show: A reality competition in which people are thrust into dangerous and demanding jobs, such as logging, ice-fishing and oil drilling.
Snacks: Coffee (served in Thermoses); big, meaty, Dagwood sandwiches; potato chips.
Decor: Hard hats, insulated cooler lunch box (serve the food out of these); steel toe boots and Carhaart jackets.

Keeping Up With the Kardashians
The show: Follows ample-bottomed Kim Kardashian's family, which includes the thousand or so siblings birthed by her mother, Kris.
Snacks: Honey Buns, cornbread; Sister Starseeker cocktails.
Decor: Hair extensions; business cards to your favorite family therapist; Kim's Playboy issue.

The Ex List
The show: After a psychic tells a woman that her soulmate is a man that she's already dated, she sets out to find him.
Snacks: Break-up staples such as ice cream and red wine, followed by get-skinny-again snacks like carrots and celery.
Decor: Photos that you've ripped your exes' face out of; old journals; a drunk-dialing phone list.

The Hills
The show: Lauren Conrad and her friends engage in repetitive, vapid conversations about themselves and boys.
Snacks: A menu inspired by the vapid Hills stars: Rice cakes (filled with air, just like the conversations); oxygen bar (see the pattern here?); Red Bull (for staying alert during the 418th discussion about Audrina and Lauren's splintered friendship).
Decor: A stack of applicable tabloids; gigantic sunglasses; a barf bag (for Heidi and Spencer scenes); and a dictionary and Boggle game, in order to replenish lost brain cells during commercial breaks.

Reading books

I haven't done it in a while. Magazines, sure. But I haven't had the time or attention span for books lately. Probably because I can't stand to read a book over the course of a month ... or a week, even. When I read, I don't fuck around. I like to blaze through books in a day or two.

I've always been a really fast reader. But and if I let a book sit for two long in between reads, it's hard for me to go back to it. It's one of my quirks. Whatever.

So it was cool, during my week-long vacation, to devour some books as I listened to ocean waves crash up on shore. Relaxing!

Here's what I read:

"The Unauthorized Biography of Tom Cruise" by Andrew Morton: Wow. A super interesting read about a famous, controlling guy with a raging case of little man's syndrome. But the stuff about Cruise was overshadowed by all the inside information about Scientology, based on tons of research and interviews with high-up people who eventually left the cult. To each their own, I guess. But I can't believe people really believe in this stuff.

"Secrets of a Shoe Addict" by Beth Harbison: This book came to me in a press release at work. It was OK. A bunch of PTA moms who barely know each other go on a school trip to Las Vegas and get into some financial trouble. So they come home and earn money as phone sex operators and become friends. It had its charming moments and it was an easy read, but overall is was ... meh.

"Shopaholic and Baby" by Sophie Kinsella: My friend Pam sent me this book months ago, and as much as I love SK, I never got around to reading it. (I blame the dogs and the television for this.) In the book, shopaholic Becky Bloomwood is back, and this time she's having a baby. It's a really cute read, and when you read it, this phrase will forever crack you up: "She's a red-headed bitch and I hate her."

"My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Picoult: An incredible work of fiction that is beautifully written and charming and touching and thought-provoking. A young girl who has spent her entire 13 years donating blood, bone marrow and other things to her sister, who has cancer, sues her parents for medical emancipation when they ask her to donate a kidney. It's a brilliant piece of work, and not as much of a tearjerker as it sounds like. The author's breezy writing propels you through.

So, any more suggestions?

Gay Pterodactyls Soar on Project Runway

My air conditioner konked out this morning, on a day when it was a hot and humid 96 degrees. Now, I’m sweating and frustrated and cooped up in the “man cave” in my basement because it’s cooler down here. You probably don’t care, but I bring it up to make a point.

For one hour, a quite entertaining episode of Project Runway made me postpone my plan to kidnap an air conditioner repairman from his home and family in the middle of the night to fix my problem. After a few weeks of relatively unmemorable Runway episodes, this was a refreshing change.

With former contestant Chris March as an advisor, the designers were charged with creating drag queen costumes. And for the first time since the very first grocery store challenge, the outfits were as interesting than the banter in the work room. And isn't that supposed to be the point of the show??

It’s worth noting that when March showed up, he was wearing a drag costume that was part opera singer (long, white, drapy dress), part Viking (Flavor Flav would be totally jealous of this helmet), and part Studio 54 (a halved disco ball served as bra cups).

Before we hit the runway with our special haiku critique, let’s hit a few work room highlights: Wearing one of the drag queen’s ginormous bras, Joe did a horrifying, rhythmless dance that could almost rival Elaine Benis’ on Seinfeld. I was going to rewind it in order to describe it better, but some things are best left in the past.

And when Tim Gunn came around the workroom, he stopped to comment at Blayne’s ensemble. “It looks like it’s a pterodactyl from a gay Jurassic Park.” The camera cuts to Blayne: "Tim has just given me the best compliment a person can get.” Considering the challenge, this is the first time I’ve agreed with Blayne all season.

Suede and his queen, Hedda Lettuce, have some drama over the lime green dress with matching gloves. Hey, drag isn’t the only word that goes before queen!

Daniel is “not worried about Tim’s critique.” When will these morons learn that Tim Gunn is always right?

Now, on to the runway – in haiku – where a very scary, overly-plastic-surgeried RuPaul served as guest judge.

Blayne:
Neon pink and blue;
a kite with fringe grows from the
back of this model.

Jerell:
Even with a tall, popped
collar, Jerell made drag seem
drab. Show us some leg!

Keith:
It looks like my cat
used Keith’s “dress” as a scratching
post. Still, Keith squeaks by.

Korto:
Fiery collar and
detachable skirt make a
great “woman in heat.”

Leanne:
Mel’s Diner meets Star
Trek in waitress outfit gone
wrong. Drag-tastic, though.

Suede:
Hedda Lettuce looks
more like Cabbage Patch in lime
green monstrosity.

Stella:
Underwhelming in
plaid and black, but better than
most of the others.

Terri:
Crazy kabuki dress
on seven foot queen. Truly
a lovely costume.

Kenley:
Silver sequins with
feathered collar are enough
to save her this week.

Joe:
“Ann-Margret plus Love
Boat” scores win, immunity.
Masks the man parts, too.

Daniel:
Stripper’s manicure
colors compose this cliche
cocktail dress. He’s out.

Here’s one more bonus haiku, before my brain melts out through my ear and onto this arm chair:

Maisy (that’s me!):
May be writing from
jail next week. Kidnapping
about to commence.

Must See TV Products

I probably love TV as much as, er, more than the next person. But even I was surprised at the funny-bordering-on-bizarre merchandise I discovered when I started poking around online.

Our inspiration for the treasure hunt began with this fleece blanket from "General Hospital," which features a map of Port Charles. "My God," I thought. "This is going to come in so handy! Now I can figure out exactly where Jax landed after he parachuted out of that airplane to try and get to his meeting on time!"

Next, we found a "Desperate Housewives"-inspired apron, which is made of bridal lace and crepe satin and allows the wearer to "serve with grace." (Although for the steep $120 price tag, you kind of wish it would prepare the appetizers and sangrias for you as well.)

Anyway, the point is, this search just kept getting better and better. Here are my top 10 favorite things.

1. "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" women's tool set
Women rejoice! We are finally free to mount a wall shelf or replace a light switch cover, thanks to the ABC tear-jerker and its pink tool kit, which features "all of the necessary tools that any woman would need to help her around the house." Because everybody knows that women have no business using the big, scary tools with black handles from The Home Depot.

2. "Flavor of Love" clock
Flavor Flav has long been a fashion icon, what with his Viking hat, his chic gold fronts and massive collection of wall clocks on a chain. Just when you think you could never achieve his classic, elegant look, your prayers have been answered. Next stop: Vogue!

3. "Prison Break" stationary
Nothing is more intimidating than a note scrawled on Fox River State Penitentiary paper. It's great for subtle threats at work ("Priscilla: Please file the TPS reports immediately or there's just no telling what might happen.") or at home ("John: "The last person who forgot to put the toilet seat down may or may not have lived to tell about it.")

4. "Battlestar Galactica" toaster
Is there anything better than an early morning egg, bacon and cheese sandwich? Glad you asked. How about that delicious breakfast sandwich served on two pieces of Cylon toast?

5. "Dexter" bobblehead
If you work in an office, you might spend parts of your day wishing people would get the heck out of your cubicle. This ought to do it. It's one thing to like the Showtime series, but it's another to have a bloody, knife-wielding, demented-looking Bobblehead as a desk decoration.

6. "The Biggest Loser" socks
After years of battling myself to go to the gym at 6 a.m., I finally found the inspirational tool that will get me out of bed to exercise. This $8 pair of footies with "The Biggest Loser" logo. Jillian's hardcore verbal abuse is sold separately.

7."Grey'sAnatomy" surgeon cap
Serious doctors must be beating a path to buy this capworn by fake doctors on TV. The domepiece features show's logo and promises "the signature quality of the Grey's surgeons." Because having the quality of, say, the Mayo Clinic would be so second-rate.

8. "The Simpsons" bikini
You'll be the envy of Springfield, U.S.A. in this Duff Beer swimsuit which says "Just Can't Get Enough!" on the back side of the bikini bottoms. And the best news? A two-piece suit leaves plenty of room for your impending beer gut. Woo-hoo!

9. "Ugly Betty" poncho
Take Martha Stewart's prison poncho, drag it through a box of Crayolas and a hit TV show, and what have you got? A somewhat expensive gag gift. I mean, we love Betty and all, but the her 'ugly' moniker is not some strange coincidence, like Gary Busey's appearance on Celebrity Rehab.

10. "The Ghost Whisperer" engraved iPod
Seriously? People really love this show enough to want a $329 engraved iPod featuring Melinda Gordon? We must be totally out of touch.

Happy trails

I'm heading out tomorrow morning to go to this: www.guerillaunion.com/rockthebells/!



It's near Chicago and we have pretty awesome seats.



I'm stoked!



Have a nice weekend.

Do you know what today is?

It's our anniversary.... it's our anniversary.

Remember that 1993 song by Tony! Toni! Tone!? Anyone? Nevermind.

Anyway, we've been muhrried three years now. I can say "muhrried" like it's perfectly normal because I live in Kentucky.

Kyle had to work tonight, but we met up for a quick dinner at Cafe Lou Lou. When I went out to my car afterward, there was a big bouquet of flowers on the driver's seat of my car. He rules.

Our real anniversary celebration, however, is coming up in a couple of weeks. We're taking a weekend jaunt up to Chicago to go to this totally awesome show featuring every hip-hop act I could ever ask for on one roster. We might be the oldest ones there, but since it's mostly old-school acts, I'm hoping we're not total geriatrics.

Whee!

Invisible cricket

Summary haikus:

Every morning, you're loud
as hell, outside the front door.
Yet, I can't find you.

During the storm, you
must have been freaked. I could hear
you over the monsoon.

I like your noises,
but it's weird we haven't met.
Please show yourself now.

Dog school

Summary haikus:

Today, Archie and
I started obedience
classes at PetSmart.

He was silent, and
the best-behaved dog there. Yes,
I'm being serious.

There were only three
dogs, but still. New rope toy: his
reward for greatness.

Mistaken for a teenager!

Summary haikus:
A woman thought I was
18. So far, the raddest
event of my year.

It happened to my
friend, too, because we are hot
babealiciouses.

(Or else the woman had poor
poor eyesight. Or, she was drunk.
Who cares? Big ego boost.)

The Drapers vs. the shed

Summary haiku:

I curse the day that

Archie found a way to get

under the shed.

Whenever you move into a new place, you usually continue to discover new things about it for several months. Like the crazy nooks and crannies your cat adopts as hiding places. Or how dangerously slippery the kitchen floor gets every time it's freshly mopped. Or that it's impossible to hang the bathroom towel racks exactly where you want them because there's something behind that part of the wall -- steel? -- that you can't drill through.

But the latest finding has been made by our dog, Archie. Apparently, The Most Fascinating Thing Ever Known To Dog lives underneath our shed. Sure, Archie will mosey about the back yard and run around with Lucy. But he spends an awful lot of time circling the shed and sniffing underneath its edges.

So Friday evening, just as a crack of thunder literally shook my house, and as the TV channels all started flashing the severe thunderstorm warnings, the Doppler radar showed some big, red patches of scary stuff coming our way.

I went to call the dogs inside before it started to rain. Lucy came, but Archie was nowhere to be found. I searched the yard, called his name and for a moment, panicked that he'd somehow gotten out of the fence.

I'm not sure what finally made me look under the shed with a flashlight, but when I did, I saw Archie's body, flattened out, like someone doing a boot camp drill -- the one where you scoot yourself along the ground using your elbows.

Circling the shed, I could not figure out where he'd gotten in. The clearance was pretty miniscule, and he's a rather stout 17 pounds. But he's a Jack Russell Terrier, and they're bred to burrow, so he figured something out.

I called him for 10 minutes; he wouldn't (or couldn't) come out.

Even before the storm, it was probably a good 90 degrees outside. When I looked under there again, and he was panting and there was a string of drool hanging from his mouth.

Right on cue, the rain started to fall. Hard. Sheets of rain, not drops. That kicked up a bunch of dust under the shed, and Archie started coughing. Oh my God, I thought, my son is going to die under the shed!

I circled the shed again, looking for the biggest possible opening. I called him, and he scooted over to the edge, laying on his side. Still couldn't get out. So I decided I'd have to dig him a bigger hole. Of course, we didn't have any shovels small enough to fit underneath the edge of the shed, so I used the only other thing we had: Two-foot long garden shears, made for trimming hedges.

Archie's smart, so he got out of the way as I started jamming these shears into the ground, loosening dirt (and all the nasty bugs that were living in it), then scooping it out into the yard.

This went on for about 35 minutes, in the pouring rain, and I'm certain I looked like a complete psychopath. I'm out there laying on the ground, muddy as fuck (it rained so hard that the dirt under the grass was soft and muddy), impaling the dirt and excavating it from the growing hole. My hair was soaked and parted down the middle from the back of my head, so I looked like Cousin Itt from "The Addams Family." Mascara was smeared all over my face and cheeks.

(When I told my friend about it, she was laughing her ass off, and compared it to the scene from "Mommie Dearest" where Faye Dunaway took the shears and madly hacked away at her prized rose garden. Nice.)

After the hole was big enough, I had to bribe a panting and worn out Archie out with a giant piece of ham. Despite his travails, he still hated the rain more than he hated suffocating under a giant, wooden shed.

I was so proud of myself afterward. I thought he would think me a hero. The mother who saved his life!

Au contrare. Archie was filthy from head to tail, and happily prancing around like a renewed man after his big adventure. Like a teenager who had just been laid for the first time, or a woman who'd just bought 10 pairs of beautiful shoes at once. He even tried to crawl back under after he gobbled up the ham.

He was fucking smiling. (See above picture for an example.)

It's innate for Jack Russells to dig and burrow, I know this. But man, I kind of wanted to strangle him for a minute, or shove him back under the shed.

So yeah. We went to Home Depot and Kyle spent several hours boarding up the entire perimeter of the shed. Hopefully, this will be the end of it.

Meantime, Archie and I are taking to some additional obedience classes, because he needs another outlet for his energy and intelligence. We start on Sunday.

Congratulations, you're not blind!

Summary haiku:
My sunburn may as
well be a celebrity.
Quit staring at it!


Yesterday, I went to lunch with a friend. We ate outside. I ended up with a raging sunburn on one of my shoulders, where my scoop neck shirt didn't quite cover.

It hurts. Really, really bad (especially when my seatbelt rubs against it). But not as bad as people who think they're so clever as to comment on the obvious. "Hey! Do you know you've got a sunburn?"

Hey! Fuck you!

People lecture you on the obvious. "The sun's not good for your skin." "Wow, that's gonna be painful for a couple of days." "Geez, one shoulder? You look all lopsided."

Like I meant for it to happen. Now everyone is pointing and staring as though I have a fucking lilac bush growing out of my shoulder.

Even a little old man at the gym! He said, "Is that a sunburn? I almost didn't want to ask you because it's such an intense red, I thought it might be a birthmark." Sheesh!

Gotta go get some aloe.

This is why I don't go camping

Summary haiku:

Ticks: evil little
beasts reside in nature. I
don't need hangers-on.


Anyone who knows me is aware that I'm not an outdoorsy person. Sure, I enjoy mountain biking and hiking and boating and whitewater rafting. But when the activity is done, I want to be back in my house, showering and sleeping in my bed like a civilized person.

I've been camping twice, and they both rank as two of my five most miserable experiences in life. (Others include waiting for my mom to wake up from a coma, getting my wisdom teeth pulled and something else of a more personal nature.)

So imagine my horror when I discovered a tick implanted in my scalp last night. What the hell? I haven't even been outside like that -- where did I pick up this blood-sucking passenger?

Then I realized: It was at the dog park, where there are tons of trees and tall, bushy grasses. The dogs are protected with their Frontline, but me? I was a sitting target, especially when I decided to go frolic with them instead of sitting on the bench, on the big cement patch.

I was totally grossed out and panicking inside, but I think I seemed quite calm. Anyway, we removed the tick, and I'm sure all will be fine. But the top of my head is sore and I'm still totally creeped out by that little motherfucker. *Shudder*

So, here's hoping I don't have Lyme disease or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever! And guess what I bought today? A new ballcap, which I will wear every time I go to the dog park... along with a body condom and 10 layers of Off!

Sorry Mother Nature, but all creatures are not created equal.

(P.S. I don't have a will yet, so if I die, Wendy and Elana can split my shoe collection. Joli, Michelle and Javacia can divvy up my jewelry. I want "Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta" by the Geto Boys played at my funeral, and to be buried with my Tim Gunn bobblehead.)