"There is no reality but what we make for ourselves, man"

Thus "exultated" last night's first (and sweatiest) Idol aspirant.

(When he appeared on screen, my children gasped simultaneously, and not in a good way.)

As Idol freaks go, though, Sweaty Neil seemed pretty tame, and I'm not sure why we spent so much time on him.

But wait — I've gotten ahead of myself.

Last week my VCR made me miss Shania (anointed by TV Guide readers as the "best" guest judge yet — the worst, FYI, was Mary J. Blige), but I saw and enjoyed perky Kristen Chenoweth, who brought new life to the Kara-bot. In fact, Kristen was more fun than any of the contestants, though I did enjoy the Human Beat Boxer Jay Stone, who had a nice voice when he wasn't spitting and sputtering. (Personally, I believe that anyone with a halfway decent voice sounds better than they are when they sing an amazing song, such as "Ain't No Sunshine" or "Someone to Watch Over Me" — it's really hard to screw those up. We'll see how he sounds on Country Night.)

When Kristen went home and it was just the Big Three, a wave of longing for Paula hit me hard. Kara takes it all too seriously, as does "Sime" on occasion, and their petulant hissy fits are the Idol moments I dislike most. And surprisingly, it makes me appreciate Randy, who knows it's all a big joke and is there for the paycheck, God love him. I'm looking forward to Ellen, but I still want Kara to go home.

(Except last night I felt very protective of her. Katy Perry is a beeyatch. I had to cheer the otherwise awful contestant who mocked Katy's slutty neckline [after touching himself, ew].)

Back to Kristen-less Tuesday. I was so relieved when the New Jersey sisters who auditioned together were pretty much equally moderately talented; I'm still haunted by the cross-eyed BFF (or, according to her, "BFF forever!") who couldn't sing at all and had to pretend to be supportive of her prettier and more talented besty while the camera pored into her glistening orange face for about seven hours. Yikes.

On to Hollywood and Avril Lavigne!

I liked Mary Powers, the rock'n'roller who sang Pat Benatar with a nice scratchy voice — with a shower and a cute cocktail dress, she will look fabulous and sound great. I desperately wanted to like Andrew Garcia, with the neck tattoo and the adorable weeping father, and I'm glad the judges liked him, but high-voiced men just don't do it for me. (I was likewise unimpressed with the Country Boy Pastor – me and Avril, we are sistahs — and Tasha, the cute singing minister, but the judges were happy, and what more do I ask?)

As for Chris "25 Foster Homes" Golightly, what is there to say, really? It's a sad story (currently playing as "Life Unexpected" on the CW network - check it out!), and he's a sweet boy with a sweet voice. Will he rise to the occasion and soar in Hollywood, or succumb to the pressure and be eaten alive? Now that will be a very special Idol story, indeed.

My alternate title for this post was "The Sound of One Hand Blogging." I think my sister bloggers are adopting a wait-and-see attitude for this, the dullest Idol season yet, as who can blame them? But I will continue to flog this ailing horse as long as the spirit moves me.

(Or spirits — I do enjoy my spirits.)

Neil Patrick Harris tonight! Color me happy.

Lady Chardonnay, bidding adieu (to yieu and yieu and yieu).