Never have I loved that little guy so much. "Coming up. . ." Ryan would bubble, and schwoom! Fast-forward, fast-forward, fast-forward (wow, those Jell-O girls can jiggle!). The whole show was only about 45 minutes without commercials or Ryan's bubbling. And I like Ryan, truly, kinda the way I like maple syrup; in other words, I won't be glugging a big cup of it any time soon, as some twee folks did on Gilmore Girls, the fine show I enjoyed while taping Idol.
Still, I was up past my bedtime, which is probably why this morning it's all a haze of corn mazes, sweat stains, and a very tanned girl in two different outfits (what is THAT about? Is she twins?). And it becomes ever more clear that I can never be an Idol judge. I fall in love with the sweet ones and want them all to win. Like Prom-Dress Girl with the funky glasses--how I loved her! How I wanted to raise her as my own daughter! (And that will be my reality show someday: Who Wants to Be Lady Chardonnay's Daughter? Ooh, I see a whole series here! Lady Chardonnay's Bartender! Lady Chardonnay's Back-Up Singers! Lady Chardonnay's Finder of Lost Earrings! Could be cool.)
Also, I get so tired of the bad that I become absurdly excited about the merely decent. Like, the crooner with the greasy '70s hair--he stayed on tune! Why are they even hesitating? Send this sleepy guy to Hollywood (and get him a latte, and some dry shampoo, STAT)!
Ah, well.
So, early favorites. Fishnetted Dental Assistant--liked her. Both sets of twins. The sisters--LOVED them. Sleepy Crooner Boy and I-Sit-in-My-Car-and-Sing-Sinatra Boy (that sounds creepier than he was)--they were fine. Big Girl with the big voice and the poncho. These are the ones who stick in my mind. The rest are lost in the wave of horror that is the audition show. I truly dislike it--meanness for the sake of meanness turns my stomach--and yet I can't not watch.
But fast-forward button--yeah, sugar, I'm talking to YOU--we have a hot date again tonight. Best get ready now.
Lady C OUT.
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