Real TV > awards for TV

You'd think that, being a TV addict, I would be all over the Emmy awards, like Paris Hilton and her blow.

Well, you would be wrong. I did not watch the Emmys last night. We had company over for dinner, and that sufficiently distracted me from remembering they were even airing. Then, a new episode of True Blood was on. True Blood >Emmys. Followed by Mad Men. The only reminder I had that the Emmys even happened was when I looked over at the newspaper my boyfriend was reading this morning, my eyes still glazed over, trying to shake off last night's slumber.

Part of me felt like I had really dropped the ball. Me, of all people, should be watching the Emmys. But I totally bailed. Not voluntarily, mind you, but still. I felt some shame for my memory lapse. So I got all caught up today on the nominees, the winners and the losers, and was slightly dismayed by my findings.

(Note to self: I do like simply looking up the results the next day instead of subjecting myself to crappy, smarmy award shows. Must remember in future.)

So... Modern Family wins for best comedy series. Hmm. Curb Your Enthusiasm's Seinfeld non-reunion didn't clinch it? Or Nurse Jackie? Or 30 Rock? This does not sit well with me. 

Next, Mad Men wins for best drama series. I admit, I am a fan of the show. But it was up against True Blood and Dexter. There is no comparison. Mad Men = good. True Blood/Dexter = life changing, soul shattering experience. This does not sit well with me.

Where was Dexter's Jennifer Carpenter in the list of nominees for best supporting actress in a drama series? HUGE oversight. This does not sit well with me.

Edie Falco wins lead actress in a comedy series for Nurse Jackie. Yes, I agree with this. The only other contender against Edie would be Toni Collette for United States of Tara. I love my Tina Fey but Edie and Toni, they're in a category by themselves. 

Jane Lynch wins best supporting actress in a comedy series for Glee. YES. Need I say more?

A couple actors from Breaking Bad won some awards as well. I have a feeling I should start watching this show. Word on the street is it's pretty good. Must follow up.

The "secret" channel

While on vacation, one's addictions do not abate. Hence, my desire to consult the channel list immediately upon arrival in our hotel room in Maine. To my horror, HBO was not listed. How could this be? I HAVE to watch True Blood. Do these people not know this? Like every addict, it's all about ME and my needs. 

After having carefully reviewed the list numerous times and still not finding any trace of HBO, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wait and watch my missed episodes on our on-demand service once we got home. Two weeks without my fix. F*ck. 

Fast forward to the following evening...

It's a Sunday night and we had just finished watching No Country for Old Men (fabulous movie - love the brothers Cohen) when we decided to channel surf before calling it a night. It's almost 10 o'clock when we fall upon none other than an episode of True Blood. "Change the channel! Change the channel!" I yell. "I can't see the ending before I've seen the episode!" Then, I had a "what the f*ck just happened?" moment. "What channel was that?"

It was channel 5. I double-checked the channel guide. It skipped from 4 to 6. HBO was the "secret" channel, privileged information, if you will. So, we decided to watch Mad Men, then return to HBO for a late viewing of True Blood (God Bless them for airing an encore on the same night). Turns out the Universe was looking out for me, in Maine at least.

I was HBO-less during our second week of vacation in Cape Cod but felt subdued by our "secret" channel discovery. One week I could live with. I could wait a few days. 

This whole incident brought to light the depth of my television obsession. I was like a diabetic in a sugar factory when we found that channel, fit to be tied, delirious with excitement, anticipating my next high which was much nearer than initially expected. 

It's not like I was waiting for my next puff off a crack pipe. Yes, this is how I rationalize it. I dare you to tell me otherwise.

Kathy Griffin: you're "A" list in my book

During our adventures in New England, my boyfriend and I drove, like, a gazillion kilometers (that's a bazillion miles, for my American readers). Obviously, we had to find interesting things to do to pass the time in the car. 

My boyfriend had this excellent idea of purchasing audio books and listening to them during long stretches on the highway. I thought: Wow! That's great! All the benefits of reading without, you know, actually having to read.

Our favorite audio book, by far, was Kathy Griffin's autobiography, Official Book Club Selection: A Memoir According to Kathy Griffin, narrated by none other than Kathy herself. I already thought Ms. Griffin was the cat's meow, especially after watching her gut-bustingly funny reality show My Life on the D List. 

Now, I love her even more. It's official, she's on my girl crush list. Listening to the story of how she came to be who she is today was not only entertaining but a fascinating insight into Hollywood, and some big name peeps she may or may not have slept with. Anyway.

The point is, this chick is the shit. She worked her ass off and clawed her way to the top. She is the embodiment of perseverance. She also didn't shy away from more serious topics like problems within her family, the disintegration of her marriage and the dark side of her plastic surgeries.

In my eyes, Kathy is on the "A" list, if only for being so frank and constantly inappropriate; a woman after my own heart. I love you Kathy; not in a crazed fan kind of way or anything (well, maybe). But I digress.

If you're not familiar with Kathy Griffin, crawl out from that rock you've been living under and check out her reality show (on Bravo in the States, Comedy Network in Canada). She's also done some HBO specials, and was the sassy sidekick on a totally forgettable NBC sitcom called Suddenly Susan. But don't hold the latter against her. Larry David doesn't. Oh yeah, they're buds. Don't be fooled, Kathy's got the hook-up. 

I'm adding this to my to-do list: meet Kathy Griffin and become her BFFL. Tina won't mind. We'll be like the Three Musketeers. It'll be AWESOME.

That's my girl...

What goes up must come down...

My dearest Sassies,

I have returned from my vacation with tales of adventure and death-defying feats. 

My boyfriend and I often go trail riding in the Ottawa area. I was under the impression that this was "mountain biking" and referred to it as such. I found out that this is not quite the case. What we do is called "cross-country" riding which involves going uphill and downhill over gravel, dirt, roots and rocks, and is quite the aerobic workout.

We figured since we were "mountain bikers" that we'd try out single-track riding on a ski mountain in Maine. You know when you decide to try something and realize, once it's too late, that you kinda wish you hadn't? Like that time you innocently thought: "I'll just try heroin this one time" after you shot up? Well, this experience was kind of like that.

I should have known we were in trouble when the guy who sold us our lift tickets told us riding on the mountain is "pretty intense". I was a little apprehensive to begin with. His comment ignited my nascent terror. But I'm no quitter, no sirree. So...

 we proceeded to go up the mountain, on a chair lift, with our bikes...

It was at about this time that the tune "What goes up must come down" entered my mind. We have to come down this mountain, on our bikes. All traces of saliva disappeared from my mouth and my limbs felt weak. We get to the top and are handed our bikes by the very helpful staff. We consult the map, looking for the "beginner" trails and are on our way. 

Our first ride starts out ok, but then it slowly dawns on me that I'm right out at the edge of my skills and abilities. In other words, I'm scared shitless. This is so NOT like the trails at home. We discovered that all "mountain biking" is not alike. Barreling down a mountain is a little different than riding through the woods. 

It was quite a humbling experience. But we're suckers for punishment. Following numerous contusions and bruises from wipeouts, bike pedals colliding with tender shins and sliding down a particularly steep stretch on my ass, we decided to return a few days later and give it another go. 

I can't think of anything more exciting on a vacation than cheating serious bodily injury and/or death. Good times...

Cooch theft - a silent epidemic

My dearest Sassies,

It's that time of year again (vacation season), when this writer takes a two-week hiatus and embarks on fun-filled adventures. So... this will be my last post before departing for faraway lands and audacious exploits. I ask that you be patient and please don't abandon me! remain loyal, for your allegiance will be rewarded. No, not like that. With my brilliant writing. Geez, you people...

My creative soil must, from time to time, lie fallow... but not this fallow:

Headline found in my local newspaper: Lady Gaga touts abstinence to protect creativity. Best quote ever: "I have this weird thing that if I sleep with someone they're going to take my creativity through my vagina." I once had a crystal gravy boat stolen from my snatch. You never think it's going to happen to you. I was in complete disbelief. I felt violated. The police couldn't really do anything. They didn't have any leads. They figured the stolen article might show up in a pawn shop so I should check some of those out.

That's why I keep my vajayjay under lock and key. Don't be fooled. You can't just walk around with the door open - that's inviting trouble. I mean, I have valuables in there, family heirlooms that are, quite frankly, priceless. There are some things you just can't replace. 

I also got an alarm system installed in my cooch. Better safe than sorry. Sure, sometimes the alarm goes off by accident, and I have to call off the police, but that's a minor inconvenience, and one I'm perfectly willing to tolerate if it means my stuff is protected. Although the cops keep telling me they have to do a cavity search, even if it's a false alarm... something about due diligence.

Anyhoo, take it from me. Secure your snatch. It's the best investment you'll ever make. 

I'll be back in a couple weeks. If you need your SS fix real bad during my absence, check out the archives. If you've read them already, they will be a reminder of my brilliance. If you haven't, they will be a reminder of my brilliance.

Tata for now!

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Letters to D. - part trois

Hey D.,

Hope all is well at camp. I watched The Bachelorette season finale last night and was quite... underwhelmed. It wasn't nearly as exciting as the last Bachelor finale when we were hoping to God that Jake would pick the sweetie over the skank - at least there was some dramatic tension. Last night was a bust. 

First off, both men were great candidates. I mean, yeah! for Ali, bad for us. Total snoozefest. Then, Ali sends Chris L. home a day early because she realizes she's in love with Roberto and doesn't want to hurt Chris any more than she needs to. So, that pretty much killed the excitement of the rose ceremony. Ali picked Roberto and he proposed. Now they're living happily ever after. The end. 

I was expecting this to be longer. Now I have to make shit up.

Actually, this bit is true. There's a new show, Bachelor Pad, starting next Monday where former contestants from the Bachelor and Bachelorette basically live together, make out and compete for money. Gia, Tenley and crazy Canadian Craig will be on it, along with some other people I don't know. There's crying and accusations of pornographic behavior. Sounds promising. Will keep you posted.

Love,

S.