Glued to the Boob Tube

Who doesn't love TV.

It makes me laugh, it makes me cry. It sucks all the time out of my otherwise monotonous life.

I was never allowed to watch TV as a kid (but tried to sneak some in while the parents weren't home anyway). And then in college, I didn't have the luxury of a TV set either. Post-college, I was too cheap to have TV service.

But now, since I've moved into a "spoiled private school brat's" furnished pad...oh man. It's TV 24/7. Although there are only about 5 good channels, it's enough to keep me glued for the majority of hours in the day. Imagine the degeneration if I actually had cable!

In the morning, things usually start out light with Regis and Kelly. Does anyone else think Kelly has an abnormally large bobble-figurine like head?

Then it's straight into "Starting Over," a show where 2 "life coaches" try to help 5 women through their "issues." All 5 women live in one house together for weeks on end. That used to be my vision of hell. The hormones, the passive aggressiveness, the sensitivity...yikes. That would be my Fear Factor challenge. And yes, I do catch Fear Factor later in the evening.

But one show that is surprisingly addictive is actually not even a "real" show. The TV Guide channel has shows that run on the top half of the screen while the channel guide schedule scrolls through the bottom half. This "not a real show" show even has legitimate commercials! I'm just so impressed with how they can actually split one channel into two, essentially!

But anyway, the show is called "Look Alikes" (or something to that effect). One lucky contestant is chosen to receive a complete makeover so that they "look like" a Hollywood celebrity. I've seen David Arquette, Christina Aguilera, Beyonce, and most recently Reese Witherspoon. Some are more convincing than others. (David Arquette was like a total carbon copy!)

But why do I love this show so much? Because. These makeovers are amazing. You can actually confuse these mere mortals for their demi-god counterparts. It's unbelievable.

Now that I think about it, I love any makeover show (people or houses). "What Not to Wear," "This Old House," "The Swan," and all those makeover talk show episodes. Makeovers are the ultimate act of creative redemption.

I once tried to makeover my friend Jenny. I read Kevin Aucoin's (cosmetician to the stars) book on makeovers and bought fifty dollars worth of cosmetics from my local Walmart. I began with her skin, of course, and as soon as it looked flawless and nicely contoured, I proceeded to the eye makeup, at which point, she then chose to reveal to me that she has very sensitive eyes and really can't handle any eye makeup. Well, that's all right (could've saved me 10 bucks there, but ok). Some shadow and eyebrow darkening would just have to do. And then the lipliner, lip stick, and finally blush.

I remember taking a few pictures of my obliging model, before and after. I never got to see what the pictures looked like though. Lazy, uninitiative sloth that I am, I never developed the film and it expired 3 years later. I had to throw the whole camera away. (In my defense, I would just like to mention that part of the reason I didn't develop the disposable camera is because there were still a few shots left in it. So another one of my more redeeming qualities did play a role in my deliquincy, thriftiness.)

But judging from Jen's reaction when she saw "the finished product" in my bathroom mirror, it wasn't the most successful makeover ever attempted. I thought she looked pretty modern, urban, smokey eyes, you know, the whole metro look. She, on the other hand, forever referred to it as, "that awful makeover you tried to do on me." And always quickly adding, as if an uncontrollable afterthought, "I looked terrible."