March 4th, 2004

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Do you ever watch Extreme Makeover? God, I love that show. I live for those moments when the makeover recipient bursts into tears and says, "This is going to change my life." [Because, of course, his or her entire outlook on life will change now that she's got boobs or he's finally got a chin.] And then whomever's alcoholic old mother with a nasty perm gets on and says, "I can't believe my child is finally going to be as beautiful on the outside as on the inside." And they all cry and show montages of what it was like for this person, swimming their entire life in the shallow end of the gene pool. The slice and dice'em parts I could without. Blood makes me squeamish, and the side of someone's teeth being worked on is just gross, but, in the end it's all worth it. Finally, after six long weeks away from home, our makeover victim will return to their family and friends. It's time for the reveal! (Exclamation point necessary.) Here, our intrepid chameleon will step through a curtain onto a stage in front of family and friends and lots of other sorry-looking people dragged in off the street. Of course, since the bandages were removed we, the audience, have only seen him or her from a max of 3/4 shot, so we too are shocked by just how different they look! It's amazing! It's like they're a new person! Kids cry. Grown men weep.

Let me tell you, that's just good TV. Gruesome, suspenseful, and always, always, a happy ending. You just can't beat that.

I want to be on Extreme Makeover. I want my Mom to get all teary-eyed beneath her giant fishbowl glasses and my Dad to say, "We always knew she could be beautiful," with a tear gleaming at his eye. It might just make up for the fact they've spent the last twenty-five years calling me from other rooms to find the remote control. My Dad would go for it. He's got a great sense of humor. Case in point, the man has single-handedly kept the tradition of the Wet Willie alive in our family. My Mom I worry might take it seriously though. Every once in a while she crosses that line between fiction and reality without realizing it. A lovely little piece of fiction called "Reality TV" might just push her over the edge. Not that she wouldn't get it eventually, it's just that I could very well have a new set of boobs by then.

Speaking of boobs. I'm in a wedding next weekend. The dress I have to wear is brown. I'm sorry "Latte." The dress came with plastic inserts to make the dress lay smooth over your boobs. Only the inserts are in the wrong place for mine. Seriously. It's as though I have an extra set popping out. My Mom, the angel that she is, is busy tearing the dress apart and putting it back together around me. Perhaps, had I had time to go on Extreme Makeover prior to this shindig, I might have had the expert team of surgeons put my boobs where the bridesmaid dress manufacturer thought they should be, but, alas, no call from ABC ever came. Besides, if my boobs were up that high I'd have trouble breathing.

There is one more thing I must mention before I sign off. I had bad cake at work today. Not once, but twice. I love cake, and did not think it was possible to have bad cake twice in one day. You know that expression "Like a fat kid loves cupcakes." That's me. I'm the fat kid. I once had to get cake at Jack-in-the-Box just to satisfy a craving. Today, as a cake lover, was a bad day. First there was dessert after lunch, which was yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Stale. And the frosting was hardened. It has obviously been there for sometime. I was disappointed. Yellow cake with Chocolate frosting is a staple. One of the basic foods for survival. And it was icky. I saw my chance at redemption later in the afternoon. We had a small, ten minute birthday party to celebrate an in-office birthday. Cake! "Yea," the little voice in my head rejoiced, "There will be cake! All is not lost." Sadly, it was store bought angelfood cake. With Cool Whip.

I tried not to let my disapointment show. It was not my birthday and I wasn't going to cheapen someone else's - but really! This is how these people celebrate a birthday? With Cool Whip? I do not understand Cool Whip. Real Whip Cream is Cream and Air. A little sugar for good measure. Given that whip cream is so simple, why would such a complicated thing as Cool Whip need to exist? Boggles the mind. Anyhow, angelfood cake, when homemade, is very good. It's a light cake, but a great treat when made right. Today's specimen, however, had a funky taste to it. Given as angelfood is Egg whites, Flour and air, there should be no funky aftertaste. You can be when my birthday comes around I'll bring good cake. I wouldn't leave it up to chance. Oh, and I shall insist that everyone in attendance bring me presents. I love presents.