DAY 167: I Just Saved $16 A Month!

Today I saved money by finally putting my Netflix account on hold. (Well technically, I put it on hold yesterday. But today I mailed back all my discs, ensuring that I wouldn’t be fined $60 for late returns.)

I was sad to say goodbye to Netflix. We’ve been good friends who go way back. Netflix was there for me when no one else was. My first couple of months in NY when I had no life, Netflix kept me company with the first three seasons of 24. Even after I got a life, it did not judge me for staying at home on a Saturday night and watching countless PBS reality shows. And I have Netflix to thank for introducing me to one of the greatest loves of my life, The Wire.

But then something unexpected happened, my DVR entered the picture.

My Netflix usage began it’s immediate decline back in September once the new TV season started. Sure, I felt guilty for making Netflix take the back seat. But at the same time, I was so excited to finally have something to say around the water cooler at work!

Once the writer’s strike was upon us, I thought for sure I would have time to get back into my Netflix groove. But as it turns out, I mostly watch reality TV, so my TV schedule actually got busier thanks to the strike.

Considering I hadn’t watched a single disc since early December, I figure it was finally time to let go. I watched the last two episodes of Deadwood: Season Three, and the first 20 minutes of Dr. Who, just to see what I would be missing.

Ironically enough, my first night without Netflix is a Monday night… a night when absolutely nothing is on TV. (Well, nothing except Girlicious, which I’m not exactly sure I want to admit to watching.)

So right now, I’m sort of missing my Netflix. Hopefully this summer we can get back together. After all, by then Season Three of B.S.G. will be available and I can’t miss that! Until then, I will have to survive off of live TV and burned copies of The Wire: Season Five that my brother sends me.

Something tells me I’ll be okay…

DAY 163: Idol Outrage.

Yes, I know I already have a blog devoted to reality TV, but since I don’t do the American Idol post over there… you’ll have to listen to me bitch about it over here.

I haven’t watched A.I. since Season Three. And now, after starting back up again this season, I remembered why I stopped. Because America is mentally disabled and doesn’t know how to vote.

I don’t care so much about the guys, as long as my three honeys are safe:

But with the girls it starts to get a little tricky, because I love so many of them. And sadly, tonight, the two that were (perhaps) my favorite, were sent packing:

HEART BREAKING!

Yes of course I still have these gals to love:

But it’s not the same. I think Alexandrea and Alaina were my favorite because I knew in my heart of hearts that they were the underdogs, and I always root for the underdogs. Heck, tonight I was even ready to throw Amanda under the bus to save my favorite little lesbian in training, Alexandrea. (Don’t worry Mandy, I still love you and I don’t think you’re to blame for Drea leaving.)

If anyone’s to blame, it’s these three No-Talent-Ass-Clowns/One-Trick-Ponies:

Seriously, what the fuck? Obviously, I hate squeaky clean Syesha the most, but Kristy Lee comes in a very close second. While sweet, innocent Alaina was a true country girl at heart, Kristy Lee Cook is nothing but a hooker who is going to turn country because she thinks it can save her. Great, all we need in this world is another Jewel.

Good-bye ladies, you were too good for this shitty American Idol world anyhow:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3l7BYd30xY”>

DAY 155: Girls, girls, girls!

Yes, I’m still sick. And yes, it was another dateless night for me. Unfortunately, unless I start double dating, there is no way I am going to reach my goal of 21 dates by the end of the month. (Why, oh why, did I pick the shortest month of the year?)

But honestly, even if I wasn’t sick, I wouldn’t have gone on a date tonight anyhow because Wednesday night is TV Night at my house. (Yes, technically every night is TV Night at my house, but on Wednesday nights we have guests over.)

And with tonight being the girls first night on American Idol you can bet my ass wasn’t going to be anywhere but anchored on my futon.

Now when it comes to me and A.I., I always show way more love for the girls than I do the boys. I think it’s ridiculous that they can only take six girls to the finals when there are some many more talented ladies.

Tonight I voted for who I want to be the Final 6. Jeffrey thinks it’s insane that I like so many of the girls, but I was even trying to be choosy! (Sorry Brooke White and Kady Malloy, I liked you but my voting card is full.)

Here’s my dream team of lovely ladies:



And one girls that I refused to vote for was this hoe:

Yes, the black chicks are usually my favorite. But Syesha is just too squeaky clean for me. I like my black girls with a lot of sass! (And no Syesha, those stupid scarves you wear do not equal sass.)

DAY 154: Ditched (Yet Again.)

I had a CL dinner date all set up for tonight, until my date called about an hour before dinner and canceled because he was “working late.”

Truth be told, I was sort of happy to go home. I am still feeling rather sick, and I didn’t think it would be very romantic of me to cough up wads of phlegm all over my date’s meal.

So instead I settled on a date at home with my roommate Jeffrey and our DVR… where I found some potential new boyfriends on American Idol:

I also voted for this little queer:

Not because I want him to be my boyfriend. But because I’m banking on him to become the next Sanjaya.

DAY 142: Ditched (Again.)

CrazyBlindDate tried to set me up with someone named Jeff tonight, but the little shit never confirmed our date, so I was left dateless once again.

Oh well, I can’t say I was too upset. I wanted to have a hot date with my TV; my $3.25 plate of white rice, broccoli and tofu; and some cheap-ass white wine anyhow.

Seriously, with backlogged episodes of American Idol in my DVR, the premier of Lipstick Jungle**, the hotties of Make Me A Supermodel, and the season premier of Survivor: Fans vs. Favs… who needs men?

**Kinda sucked.

DAY 135: The End Of My Single Life / The End Of My Tether.

Tonight was my last night of singledom before I embark on my month long dating journey. To celebrate, Jeffrey, Jeannie and I had our weekly food/booze/reality tv bonanza. I defied seasons and made an avocado summer pasta, and Jeffrey and Jeannie supplied the wine. Our five course tv dinner included: South Park, Celebrity Rehab, Janice Dickinson Tranny Fest, American Idol, and Make Me A Supermodel. Jeffrey’s latest boytoy showed up just in time to help us polish off a whole plate of (No Pudge!) Brownies and our third bottle of red. And as always, the night ended with all of us piled on Jeffrey’s bed, watching the latest straight boys-who-happen-to-like-dick on Corbin Fisher.

It was a lovely last evening of freedom… except for the fact that we still don’t have any heat. Our boiler shut down again Wednesday night around 8pm, for like, the fifth or six time this winter. Jeffrey left some angry messages for our cheap ass landlord and his questionable “electrician,” while I called 311.

Hopefully, I’ll meet some nice boys next month who will keep me warm. Wow, I can’t believe I just typed that last sentence without barfing.

UPDATE #1: You know what’s worse than not having any heat? Not having any electricity on top of not having any heat. This morning around 8:45am, right when Jeffrey was in the shower, the electricity shut off. Jeffrey and I did a little role reversal and this time I called our landlord while Jeffrey called 311. Jeffrey said that if he had to speak to our landlord right now, there would be death threats. And I could tell that he totally meant it. When I called our landlord he sounded tired and not at all concerned. The best he could do was promise to “try and make some phone calls.” Gee, thanks. I’m pretty anti-confrontational, so in my kindest voice I stressed to him how important it was for us to have heat and electricity. Ridiculous, right? What’s even more ridiculous is that I am afraid of annoying/pissing off our landlord. According to Jeffrey (who is now officially the Heather Locklear to our Melrose Place), our new neighbors upstairs fought so much with our landlord that he told them he would not renew their lease. You would think that after all Jeffrey and I have been through this winter we wouldn’t want our lease renewed either, but after spending hundreds of dollar in paint and countless hours of blood, sweat and tears trying to fix this place up, I am telling you… I’m not going nowhere.

UPDATE #2: Our landlord just stopped by. Jeffrey and I played nice and pretended not to hate him, and he played along by pretending to feel bad. He even offered to move us into a different building of his, which is… weird? Thankfully, our power is back on now and according to my new BFF landlord, a “big” heating company is coming over to look at the boiler, which will hopefully be more effective than the usual cornies he sends over, like the guy who punched holes into Jeffrey’s wall. Now I’m sitting at home waiting for the boiler guy. So at least there’s a silver lining to be found in this madness… I get to be super late for work!

UPDATE #3: The boiler guy was supposed to be here at 11:00am, its now 11:45am. My landlord is not answering his phone and the phone number he gave me for the boiler guy is incorrect. I have to leave for work by noon, whether or not anyone shows up. Shit… I kid you not, just as I typed that last sentence, my radiator started hissing. Someone did something. What a crazy roller coaster of emotional feeling towards my landlord I have been on this morning!

UPDATE #4: Fuck, I spoke too soon. There was lots of shouting coming from the basement. My landlord just came up and told me that they have to replace the boiler… hopefully this weekend. Which means, maybe by next weekend. He told me to buy a space heater and he would reimburse me. Um yeah, I did that back in October the first time the boiler broke down. How about reimbursing me for our sky high electricity bills for the past four months?

DAY 87: No, I’m The Biggest Loser.

Tonight Jeffrey came home from the bars to find me sitting on the futon, making a batch of cookie dough and watching The Biggest Loser. Who has better Friday nights than me?

I don’t normally watch The Biggest Loser, but there was really nothing else in the DVR that interested me, and I don’t do regular cable now, because it has commercials. But that’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it. A.) It’s reality TV, so of course I enjoyed it. B.) I found it to be quite inspirational.

I’m ashamed to admit this, but I got teary eyed not once, not twice… but seven times. I wish that was an exaggeration. (In my defense, Jeffrey had three hours of the show saved in our DVR, so that’s only 2.3 outbreaks per hour.)

My two favorite tear-jerking quotes were:

“I spent a really long time selling myself short, and really, anything is possible when you believe, when you put in the work.

“I did the best I could… and for once, it was good enough.”

Even reading that last quote now, my eyes are misting up again. God, what is wrong with me? The same thing happens when I watch a movie or play where a father and son have some sort of emotional breakthrough… or lack there of.

I consider my father and I to have a very good relationship, however, I can’t help but feel like I have always been a bit of a disappointment to him. I think it’s a complex most homosexuals have. I know it’s silly, and I know we love each other very much, but it has never really been expressed. That’s why I cried like a little bitch at the end of Arthur Miller’s All My Son’s or during the funeral scene in Spring Awakening. It hits a little too close to home sometimes.

Wow… I did not mean for this post to turn into a “Daddy Issues” post. What I meant to say was that I can relate to the contestants of The Biggest Loser because I too have low self-esteem… which actually, isn’t any more uplifting.

Ahhhh, TGIF! Because, after a long week of work, who doesn’t like to sit at home and depress themselves?

DAY 85: Ten Things That Suck.

(WARNING: Do not read ahead if you’re not caught up on your Wednesday night reality TV.)

1. Work

Tensions are running high at work right now. In the past two days, two out of the three people that I work with in the basement have cried. I think we’re ready for our own reality show.

2. Trader Joe’s Frozen Roasted Corn

Do not buy this unless you like your corn to taste like you’re eating it out of an ashtray.

3. The End of Kid Nation

Long live Pageant Princess Taylor!!!

4. The Final Two on ANTM

Probably my least two favorite girls of this cycle. The only thing that sucked more than they did was…

5. The “Fashion Show” on ANTM

Hey ladies, have fun walking for the judges, some people on stilts, and a bunch of paid extras dressed up in traditional Chinese garb. Ooh, can you feel the pressure?

6 & 7. My Boyfriend Going Home / Ricky NOT Going Home

Sigh. Life is so unfair.

8. Steven’s Dress

Or is it? The judges finally sent the right person home this week.

9. Crowned: The Mother Of All Pageants

This show sucks. But what sucks even more is that I’m probably going to watch the entire season, or at least until it gets canceled.

10. iTunes

Apparently, on iTunes you’re only allowed to burn a purchased song 7 times before it stops you. So now, unless I can come up with a better plan, I have to pick my 7 closest friends to receive my “Making the Yuletide Gayer” mixed CD.

DAY 79: Two Ways Reality TV Is Taking Over My Life.

1. This morning before I awoke, I dreamt that I was on Project Runway. Our challenge was to pick something that another designer had made, and wear it down the runway. I was on the gray couch in the elimination room with Jack, helping him with the pants he chose to wear. They were made of pleather and had to be laced together up and down the sides and at the crotch. (Yes, this was perhaps my gayest dream ever.) The funny thing about it though, is that I was putting them on over another pair of pants that he was already wearing. (Even in my dreams I’m a prude.) Once I got to his crotch we had a little chuckle about how silly the pants were. As our laughter settled and his balls were out of my face, I looked him in the eyes and he leaned in to kiss me. Soon we were making out on the couch, which was followed by a verbal agreement to be boyfriends.

I’m not sure what this means for the status of me and Jack’s relationship. Just last week I had posted that I was over him and his busted up face. But now, after sharing such an intimate moment with him, I feel like maybe we can “make it work” our second time around.

The rest of my dream was pretty random and Jack-less. For the challenge, our clue from Heidi and Tim was to “keep it simple.” I decided to wear Steven’s design of tan corduroy pants, a white artist’s smock, a blue scarf, and a beret. Simple, in a bad way. (I guess even my subconscious questions Steven’s ability as a designer.) After scoring some hair and make-up tips from the production staff (which happened to be an army of petite Asian women), the dream ended with me freaking out and on the brink of elimination, running around the East Village in search of a tanning salon, lest the white smock make me look too pale.

2. After rehearsal tonight, some of my teammates wanted to go see the 11:00pm show at the theater. I opted not to go, knowing that I had a plethora of reality TV waiting for me back home in my DVR. So basically, I turned down hanging out with real, live friends… in order to spend a little quality time with these friends:

DAY 60:Project Runway: First Impressions.

Remember when I finished with the Master Cleanse Blog and I promised never to leave you again? I lied.

I’m now joining my friends Beta, Avi and DJ Dickmutt over at their all-things-television blog, Blog the TV Hunter.

I promise not to abandon you too often for the TV Blog. I’ll do my best to post in both. But honestly, today I have nothing exciting to blog about anyway. I slept in, went to class and then came home and blogged about Project Runway all night. And I can’t blog about blogging. That would be too meta… and boring.

Anycrap, click on the above link to read what bitchy things I have to say about Season 4 of Project Runway.