Sanjaya FTW
It's a nice day. I'm wearing a cute new outfit. All is well. And I will never get tired of this icon.
Last night I did something I've never done before...I went tanning. I am fishbelly-white and going on vacation soon, plus wearing a dress without hose and black strappy sandals. Blindingly white legs don't go well with that ensemble. So I went tanning. It was...a little weird. First, there's the weirdness factor of getting nekkid someplace that isn't your bedroom or a doctor's office, then there was the weirdness of trying to find a way to lie there so you're not missing any spots (I in particular have issues with overlap of boobages while flat on my back).
I started with five minutes. I didn't remotely burn at all so tonight I'm going up to eight.
The Great Clothing Purge of 2007 is progressing. I've got all my t-shirts and summer clothes into my closet now. I keep finding things that make me go "why is this here? why do I have this?" Some things are going into a pile for consignment, others are going straight into the trash.
All right, flist. Can we talk about Sanjaya for a minute?
Sanjaya is made of Teflon. Sanjaya is everywhere I look. Everyone is talking about Sanjaya. Sanjayamania is sweeping the nation. It's weird, because during auditions I was really keen on the guy. Nice voice, cute smile. I was kind of surprised when he made it into the top 24. Once there, however, it was so achingly clear that while his voice is adequate his stage presence is nonexistent that I, like everyone else, was shocked he kept making it through.
And now he's really up there. He's in the top 4 guys. Wrap your brain around THAT.
I was bitter for awhile. But now I'm kind of starting to cheer for him. He's so clearly just said "fuck it all, I'm gonna SING!" and is throwing all caution to the wind. It's not HIS fault he's still on the show. It's all the people voting for him (who are these people, anyway?). He's making the best of a bad situation in which even Simon is flummoxed about what to say to him. What do you do in the face of such blatant disdain? You kick up your heels, put your hair in a ponyhawk, and hop around like you just drank a six-pack of Red Bull. And make tweens cry in the audience.
Go, Sanjaya. You show 'em all.
They're all just biding time until Melinda wins, anyway.
Last night I did something I've never done before...I went tanning. I am fishbelly-white and going on vacation soon, plus wearing a dress without hose and black strappy sandals. Blindingly white legs don't go well with that ensemble. So I went tanning. It was...a little weird. First, there's the weirdness factor of getting nekkid someplace that isn't your bedroom or a doctor's office, then there was the weirdness of trying to find a way to lie there so you're not missing any spots (I in particular have issues with overlap of boobages while flat on my back).
I started with five minutes. I didn't remotely burn at all so tonight I'm going up to eight.
The Great Clothing Purge of 2007 is progressing. I've got all my t-shirts and summer clothes into my closet now. I keep finding things that make me go "why is this here? why do I have this?" Some things are going into a pile for consignment, others are going straight into the trash.
All right, flist. Can we talk about Sanjaya for a minute?
Sanjaya is made of Teflon. Sanjaya is everywhere I look. Everyone is talking about Sanjaya. Sanjayamania is sweeping the nation. It's weird, because during auditions I was really keen on the guy. Nice voice, cute smile. I was kind of surprised when he made it into the top 24. Once there, however, it was so achingly clear that while his voice is adequate his stage presence is nonexistent that I, like everyone else, was shocked he kept making it through.
And now he's really up there. He's in the top 4 guys. Wrap your brain around THAT.
I was bitter for awhile. But now I'm kind of starting to cheer for him. He's so clearly just said "fuck it all, I'm gonna SING!" and is throwing all caution to the wind. It's not HIS fault he's still on the show. It's all the people voting for him (who are these people, anyway?). He's making the best of a bad situation in which even Simon is flummoxed about what to say to him. What do you do in the face of such blatant disdain? You kick up your heels, put your hair in a ponyhawk, and hop around like you just drank a six-pack of Red Bull. And make tweens cry in the audience.
Go, Sanjaya. You show 'em all.
They're all just biding time until Melinda wins, anyway.