Reviewed: Maoz

It's Day 2 of my No-Sugar Life Betterment Plan and I just microwaved some popcorn, which is odd because I absolutely hate popcorn. A lot of things aren't making sense since I stopped eating sugar. Last night I almost burst into tears when Joe forbade me from drinking lemonade with dinner. We were having shrimp quesadillas and I kept whining, "But lemonade goes perfect with this!" 

I never realized before how much of my life is devoted to eating sugar. I work at a bakery for god's sake. I have candy all over my apartment. The answer to the question, if you could only have one food for the rest of your life what would it be, for me, was always candy corn. (Like a good Midwestern girl.) 

It's hard, I'm telling you. I feel like my mind is changing, my spirit, my body. Everything is different. It's like when Tom Cruise tells Brad Pitt, "Now look, with your vampire eyes." I want sugar all the time! I am not responsible for my actions. Last night we were woken by a buzz saw at 2am coming from the building next door and Joe had to stop me from tossing a glass jar of Mott's applesauce out the window to shatter on their back porch. (And I wasn't even the one who almost got arrested--the cop getting in Joe's face when asked to do something about it, "Are you asking me or telling me?")  

So this is all to say, before I eventually give in and devour a plate of glazed donuts and chocolate syrup, tonight we're going to eat falafel pitas at Maoz. It's delicious. They have a little bar full of cooked carrots and cabbage slaw and roasted cauliflower and sour pickles. The store in Union Square can get a little tight, and it isn't always fun to eat next door in the park next to a hobo, and one time I saw a guy use the salad bar tongs to take a piece of cauliflower, deposit it in his hand, then pop it in his mouth (which really, I suppose, because of the mechanics of it, is completely sanitary even though it made me think about germs for the next two hours.) 

Maoz. No Sugar. Life Better.

85 Stars.

Reviewed: Delivery Guy

It's been a while since I had to pull out my old college days constantly-offended feminism, and yesterday when I went reaching for it, it was barely there. I was, and remain, completely horrified at myself. 

So this delivery guy walks in and, in work-mode, I look up with that automatic tip-me-if-I-have-to-use-the-steamer smile. He says, "Hey, Beautiful." 

Revulsion. (And here's where I admit that if he looked even remotely like Jake Gyllenhaal* I would have gotten all giggly and done the lip-bite-chin-tuck thing. I'm shallow.) 

I made a face that I thought conveyed "Ew. Gross. Quit it. Now." But instead, he says, "What? You don't think that you're beautiful?"

Good God, there are so many things that I should have said. Wish I had said! Needed to have said! That's the end of the story. It doesn't get better. He hung around creepily while waiting for a signature. I busied myself making lemonade. The end. 

0 Stars.

*Oh my god, I'm so good at spelling I totally got it right on the first try.

LOVE her: Kate Micucci (Gooch, from Scrubs)

Reviewed: RR/RW The Duel II

This show really should just be called Boobs and Muscles II. And I'm totally disappointed in myself because I hadn't watched MTV for about 6 months! My life was better for it! I'm definitely "too old for that sh*t". Too many flashy graphics and commercials for text message astrology. Too many frat-boy jokes. Too much winning useless uber-hip electronics for doing nothing.

Of course, MTV and all its players are too hip to be homophobes! The women are strong, 21st century gals--no way would they allow themselves to be used and played by those muscley men! 

And yet....every bulked-beyond-belief musclehead that goes into the show's famous "duel" picks a skinny, gay man to test his immense strength against, then gives 30 seconds of talking head about how this game is all about "pushing yourself." 

And yet...every season involves clip after clip of meatheads with hilarious funky hair strategizing on how to "trim the fat" (translation: get all the chicks off our team!) 

Why does MTV even spend the money to go to these exotic locations? Nothing on the show requires any skill or design beyond what would be capable in my dad's garage. 

Here's a solution: Buy a bunch of matching speedos and bikinis--don't forget the cool logo bandanas!--and drop these life-rejects in a warehouse in Akron, Ohio with TJ whats-his-face. You'll save a bunch of money (hey, maybe you could use it to hire more creative, intelligent people that will design worthwhile programming!) and I won't have to stomach any more of Brad and Evan thinking that they are really cool guys. 

0 stars.    

Reviewed: 2 Things I'm Telling You to Watch But Don't Want to Write About

1. Speed Racer starring Emile Hirsch, Christina Ricci, and (excitement!) Street from Friday Night Lights...whose Rex Racer gets plastic surgery to look like Matthew Fox (ugh, see left).

2. The Unusuals, Wednesdays @ 10pm, ABC.

Combined 170 stars.

Reviewed: TLC's I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant

I'm not going to be coy here. You don't need to scroll down to see the star rating, because it would feel wrong to withhold the vital information that this is the

Worst. Show. Ever.

I might even see about getting TLC permanently removed from my cable box.

Yesterday was hangover TV day, which meant an afternoon of movies like Speed Racer (review to follow), The River Wild, and whatever else came on HBO since it hurt too much to find the remote. But then something happened where I started out watching a home improvement show on TLC and next I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant came on.

The dramatizations on this show are even worse than the glory days of Rescue 911. (How do they cast these roles? Is there a special corner in LA where all the dramatization actors wait for casting directors to come by in a pickup truck?)

Here's what happened on last night's show: (Warning: I summarized the following to Joe last night and he made me stop before he threw up.) An overweight woman starts having severe abdominal pain. She goes to the emergency room, where they send her home with muscle relaxers, but the pain doesn't stop. The next day she goes to her chiropractor, who does some funky magic medicine which also does not help relieve her pain. That night, she wakes up with intense pain. She gets up and runs to the bathroom.

Okay. Here is where they show a woman sitting on the toilet in her nightgown. The voiceover is of the real woman saying, "I felt the most intense pressure and urge to push something out of me. I kept pushing and pushing to get it out, and all of a sudden it came out and all the pain was gone." The dramatization shows an actor resembling the woman's husband come into the bathroom. The actress resembling the woman is on the toilet and the actor resembling the husband stares at her. Then the voiceover says, "I heard a cry."

The actress resembling the woman looks at the actor resembling the husband and says, "Did you hear that?" He says, "No."

The actress stands up from the toilet in her nightgown and turns around. Close-up of a bloody infant head peeking out of the toilet. Both actors stare in horror before the woman picks the baby out of the toilet and cradles it to her, exclaiming, "Oh, I love you, my baby!"

Gross. Just....gross. Gross to the reality of that situation, gross to the horrific dramatization, gross to TLC for following these images with footage of the real mother cradling her surprise toilet baby in the park and smiling.

0 Stars.