Strangers in Paradise

As usual, the people we never got to know are the first ones gone. (This is where Mrs. Cynicletary and I argue every year. "I vote for the best singers, every time!" she swears. "But you are not the average voter," I remind her. Also, she doesn't learn anyone's name till, like, Week 11.) Seriously — Antonella blew. She was next-to-worst last night. Amy wasn't bad—she was perfectly competent, she just wasn't exciting. Antonella, like Nicole, was actively bad. But we know Antonella, and we generally like her, so we're giving her the benefit of the doubt. THIS is where the exposure comes in handy.

(Another case in point is Sundance, who . . . I just don't have words for his performance. The unendurable ick of that giant glistening head looming over me while he bellowed, "I LOVE YO . . ." I love yo? Back OFF, giant head!)

If you're really, really good (like Stephanie and Sabrina), you can shake off the dust of obscurity, buy yourself some time, and make us learn to love you. And if you're freakin' great, like yesteryear's Bo, you're a stranger no more. But as good as most of the girls were, I saw no one rise to Bo-like heights. Or even Daughtry-like heights. They were just very good.

After next week, when the next four strangers bite the dust (Leslie, Haley or Alaina, AJ, and probably Chris R, who, despite the judges' praise, is really not a good singer at all)—well, then it gets interesting.

Shoo-in final 12 boys: Brandon Backup, Beatbox Blake, and New Dad Phil. I'll be very surprised (sadly surprised) if Funny Chris isn't there (his fans, apparently, have christened themselves the Fro Patro). I'll also be surprised (happily surprised) if Sanjaya doesn't make it, as he also seems to have a (hormonal) bustling fan base.

Shoo-in final 12 girls: Melinda Backup and Single Mom Lakisha (have you heard that she's a single mom? Wow! And me without a medal), with Stephanie, Sabrina, Jordin, and Gina likely completing the group. Which means bye-bye Antonella, which—we'll see.

One word about Miss Gina, who—yes, Brunie, you called it—is forever my girl: I thought Simon was a jerk to her. Not when he was initially critiquing her performance—he said she didn't "hit the note," meaning, the one he was expecting to hear, and she may not have. Fine. And I thought her response was likewise fine; she said—jokingly—that she hit a note (which, obviously, she did). But Simon took it all wrong and was very assy when he referenced their exchange later. I don't mind when he's rude in the context of making a good point, but I hate him when he's rude just to entertain himself.

Enough for now—I need to focus on the Oscars, which means working on perfecting my Oscar cocktails. It's a chore, but I somehow carry on.

Lady Chardonnay (today's look: Extra-Terrestrial Frumpy) OUT.