Actually it isn’t. No rain in sight. How depressing.

Could things possibly get worse?

Ha, I doubt it.

Though… I am on vacation this week. THANK GOD.

The internet is amazing to me. I mean, ten years ago if you had this following conversation with your best friend:

You: “So I met this girl, she’s pretty cool.”
Friend: “That’s phat, where did you meet her?”
You: “Um, through friends.” (beginning to get embarrassed and regretting bringing it up in the first place)
Friend: “Who?”
You: “…”
Friend: “Well…?”
You: “Okay, Okay… but don’t laugh. I met her on the internet.”
Friend: “Um… neat.” (edging chair away)

…you probably would have been considered a complete freak.

Now it’s completely normal to meet people off the internet. There are so many web driven organizations that it makes it virtually impossible to NOT make friends the digital way. I was thinking about this a few minutes ago and I think it actually sometimes works out a little better. I mean, okay take Myspace for example… if you use your profile correctly (see: not plastering fucking annoying “Oh My God I LOVE YOU SO MUCH” or “I WANT A GUY WHO KISSES MY FOREHEAD BLAH BLAH BLAH” sparkly banners all over your page so you have to scroll 700 pixels to the left to see the person’s face), you can get a decent initial impression of a person. Are they witty? Do they have interesting/similar music tastes as you? Can they spell? (see: this is a deal breaker for me) - If everything adds up you can send them a message saying hello and possibly end up having a conversation to see if you just might have found a new friend. For some people who tend to be shyer in person this works beautifully. You can be far more confident when you have the reaction time to actually think about a proper answer to a question someone might ask you. Now, when I say confident - that isn’t a euphemism for “lie your ass off”.

I think places like Myspace and VIRB° (if you click the link to VIRB° it’s to a post of me making fun of it… sorry I couldn’t help myself) might make it easier on the less outgoing types of people. I don’t know about anyone else but I know for me personally, it’s extremely hard to walk up to someone when I’m out and be like: “Hey, how’s it going?” It seems like in this day and age people find that to be extremely intimidating and sometimes pretty fucking creepy, depending on the person.

Example: You’re at a bar with some friends and so is this person that seems interesting to you… if you walk up to a person and introduce yourself, that person assumes you are interested in a hook up or a non-platonic sort of way. What happened to just increasing your social circle by making friends? But sending someone a message and getting to know a person before you hang out with them can ease that anxiety a little by establishing what sort of interest might be there over time rather than in a five second assumption.

I could romanticize Myspace to be a place for people to ‘be themselves’ but that would be laughable since we all know there are so many ‘Myspace whores’. Watch, that phrase is going to end up on Wikipedia… I’m calling it now, give it another year. There will be documentation and visual aids to inform people on the lifestyle and habitat of the Myspace whore. (Thinking now, maybe I could start the Wiki) Let’s face it, people like to pretend.

What spawned this entire ramble? Well, I have this friend who is introverted and shy but is quite possibly one of sweetest and surprisingly genuine people I’ve met in a long time. I guess this stream of consciousness is a result of conversations with said person. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I had something to say about it… but either way it got me to write. Awesome.

P.S. Even though I said this rant was spawned by my friend… it might have been a little driven by the desire to use the word “Phat” in a post.

Can someone explain to me why, when I tell them that I am an English major, they instantly assume I adore Robert Frost?

When someone has a valid answer to that question let me know…

Anyway, I must admit I’m feeling a little sour today. Summertime always tends to leave me feeling less than stellar, a polar opposite effect for most people. I’m going to try my best to kick myself out of it… Anyone who wants to help is welcome. I am CRAVING humorous witty conversation… so if anyone out there wants to fill their good deed quote by a notch, hit me up.

This weekend wasn’t half bad really… Hung out with some friends I haven’t seen in awhile on Friday for cocktails. There were initial plans to head up to P-Town for the big girl party going on there but I just didn’t have it in me. My tentative plans to get drinks with a friend from work accidentally fell through because both of us failed to call the other to solidify until it was too late. Ha, crossed signals right? Saturday night ended up in a stumble and chuckles with friends at Gallery… and quite possibly being forced to listen to the worst cover band I’ve ever heard… cover bands by definition are usually pretty terrible to start. Woof. Sunday was low key consisting of movies, chess, and then a ten minute drink fifteen minutes away (that actually took forty-five due to bad directions).

Yesterday, yesterday I spent far too much time in my head.

I was thinking of thinks that I want today… Things that I wish to happen…

I want my own car… so I can take off when the going gets rough. Regroup and come back kicking ass and taking names.
I want a beautiful girl to fall in love with me, realize it will take me a long time to get to a place where I’m comfortable with that… and sticks around anyway.
I want to feel better about being who I am without that feeling fading in and out like a lighthouse beacon.
I want to be appreciated for the work I do and the effort I put in at work.
I want to be respected the same way as the men at my job are.
I want a Blackberry, cause… they’re um… cool.
I want a small circle of friends that I feel really comfortable with that hangs out all the time, so when I actually do feel like being social there is always someplace to go.
I want a bike so I can enjoy time with my iPod and myself.
I want to stop worrying about how I look and I want to stop feeling like I’m not worth someone’s time because of it.
I want to really give up smoking… forever.
I want to bang out the next four years at RIC and have amazing grades… leading me to…
I want to get into grad school in a city worth living in: SF, NYC, Boston… so I can get the hell out of here.
I want to stop feeling second best.
I want to be inspired.

It feels a little better to have some of that out… I suppose I should just work on making all that true… god, I need a vacation.

If I have to hear the song Hey There Delilah one more time today… I am going to FLIP OUT.

I for one am in a pretty great mood today. It’s amazing how much of an effect pleasant dreams can have on a person. Not to mention, I think the sun is actually coming out today. Don’t get me wrong, more often than not you’ll hear me say how much I love grey, rainy days but after the huge week long storm we just had, it’ll be nice to say hello to the sun. I’m hoping the weather is decent this weekend, I’d like to spend some time outside.

Moving on. So how did I spend my morning before another hellish day at work? Please, don’t kill me.

I watched the latest episode of The Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search For The Next Doll, hosted by Mark McGrath. Can I just say how amusing it is to me that the Sugar Ray lead singer is hosting a pop-tarty show like this? Has anyone heard the Sugar Ray - Floored album ? They were considered Metal (in some warped rose colored glass sort of way). Floored is a flat out musical lie, in the sense that they included the hit song Fly, just to suck in the easily duped masses. I can only imagine the faces of the teenagers who thought Fly was like, the coolest thing ever, get home and put the CD into their stereo and hear RPM come out of the speakers. Bwhahahahahaha. (insert evil finger pointing ‘you idiot’ laughter)

After watching the show, I have a couple things to say. If anyone has been watching you already know that Robin Antin, Drag Queen Extraordinaire and founder of the Pussycat Dolls, is searching for the next installment. Um, is ‘installment’ the right word? It’s like: Oh hey, this faceless lead singer girl wants to go SOLO! Call in the back up! Then POOF!

“Carbon copy hoochie, reporting for duty.” she purrs.

So it’s a week before the finale and the droves of girls that tried out for the only open spot have been whittled down to the four ‘most talented’ candidates. For those who haven’t been watching, let me introduce you to the Final Four.

From the left, Melissa S., Melissa R., Chelsea, and Asia.

In this episode the girls are (insert dramatic voice-over here) pushed to the brink of insanity! Whirlwind (fake) press tours! Endless dance rehearsals! Late night vocal coaching! And last but definitely not least… talking major trash on one another!

The nutshell version of what happens is this: Robin tells the girls the next challenge is all dancing. The Pussycat Dolls are amazing dancers and if any of these girls want to keep up, they’d better step to it. The girls are thrust into “really hard” choreography by hilariously flamboyant Mikey (dance instructor, Oh my god I love him. “WORK IT! WORK IT!“) and work for hours to perfect the PCD trademark booty pop. Fyi, Chelsea has been struggling with her dancing through this entire show and practically everyone involved has told her in many variations: “You suck.” (they are all so eloquent, I’m beside myself). But has that stopped cutesy wootsy Chelsea? Not a chance in hell. She’s worked harder than everyone to overcome her shortcomings (I love that word) and it shows. Well… it does in the end, not in the clips they allow us to see prior to the performance. The person giving Chelsea the most grief would have to be Melissa S. Through the entire competition she’s ragged on her about being a crappy dancer and sealed it with a psuedo-Betty Boop coo and a smile.

At one point in the show, during that insane press tour Mark McGrath is interviewing Melissa S. and asks her the ‘oh so scandalous’ question: “Who out of the remaining girls, in your opinion, should be sent home this week?” Bubblegum Melissa replies: “Chelsea” without a bat of a fake eyelash. The catch here is that the other three PCDPros’ (which could translate to Pussycat Doll Prospects or Prosti-tots, take your pick) are watching from the control room, listening to every drop of backstabbing bloody words uttered on the main stage. Chelsea is clearly not thrilled but also not surprised. Once the interview is over Melissa S. makes her way back to where the other girls are waiting and proceeds to give Chelsea a “hug”. Chelsea doesn’t move an inch. (note: I like her, she’s taken a verbal beating from Melissa S. since the beginning and has handled it well. Had I been in Chelsea’s position I would have gotten kicked off the show AGES ago for pummeling that little betch.)

I’ll spare you the details of the rest of the show and cut to the actual performances and elimination.

The dance number was short and sweet. The judges felt Melissa R. did the best of the four and commended Chelsea for all her hard work… but not until after she was told that she was the noticeable weakest link next to the “great dancers”. Well isn’t that a kick in the pussy…. cat doll?

As for the vocal performances: Melissa S. is up first performing Norah Jones’ - Don’t Know Why. From the first note I was holding my ears begging them not to bleed. Okay, I’m being dramatical. She wasn’t that bad, but to me it was painful. What happens to be one of my favorite Norah Jones songs, has now become “Don’t Know Why (They Picked This Song For Me) by offkey gaudy country singer Melissa S, a.k.a. Queen of the Unnecessary Jazz Hand.

Asia, was given Too Little, Too Late - JoJo. Surprisingly, she impressed me with her version of it. (ha, I say that like I matter or something…) I’m forced to listen to Top 40 radio at work, so I hear this song at least ten times a day… it sucks. It’s been put through every possible Protools effect you can think of and it shows. I wouldn’t want to have to win over the judges approval with a song that is literally a facsimile of a human voice. But Asia did it. Kudos.

Up next, Melissa R. doing Mary J. Blidge - I’m Going Down. I need to say straight out… I LOVE THIS SONG. I have loved this song since my middle school days, so I was nervous to see it performed by someone other than Mary. Melissa R. killed it, in a good way. They didn’t pick the best part of the song for her to sing and really showcase her vocal skills, but regardless she did extremely well.

Last, but I suppose not least, is Chelsea singing What A Girl Wants - Christina Aguilera. Vocally, this chick is the strongest in the competition so I guess I was expecting a lot more than I got. She bored me to tears. I mean that in the nicest way as this girl is my pick to win, but I wasn’t feeling it. She hit every note but there was nothing to watch. Isn’t that the whole point of shows and girl groups of this nature? Stand up there, sing and shake it. If I may, I’d like to refer back to the episode where the girls sang Heartbreaker - Pat Benatar, Chelsea was the only one to shine in that song. I can’t be sure but I’m sensing there was a ‘I know I can sing this so I’ll focus more on the dancing’ pressure factor than we weren’t allowed to see. To quote Mr. Robin Antin: “Pussycat Dolls are sassy but classy.” I saw the classy Chelsea, but where in the bloody hell was the sassy? Boo.

Elimination time came down to Chelsea and Melissa S. I made a comment to M (my roommate) that I suspected Melissa S. was standing there next to her nemesis kitty thinking, “I got dis.”

Turns out, she ain’t got shit. Melissa S. was 86′d from becoming one of the coveted Final 3. Chelsea immediately dropped to her knees, overwhelmed with the decision. I bet she was laughing behind those tears thinking something along the lines of… “Sayonara Sssucka!” (at least I would have been anyway) Facing the judges, Melissa S delivered a b-class farewell speech and then group hugged Asia, Chelsea, and Melissa R. I was waiting for her to start violently pulling Chelsea’s ponytail with bated breath, but I was left crestfallen when it didn’t happen.

So now there is but one more episode of PCD Presents: The Search for The Next Doll left… and I am sadly sucked in to the last second. Next week, I’ll be watching with my coffee to see who the winner will be… and also promising myself that I will detox from all this mind-numbing reality television (via internet). While it has been a long, turbulent road for these Pussy Potentials I will hang up my metaphorical boa and move on with life… but not before I find pre-sex change operation pictures of Robin Antin and post them ALL OVER the internet.

Bwahahahahahahahahaha. Just kidding.