Pu Pu Platter

I mean, I bitched all summer about having nothing to watch. It was seriously the dregs. A re-run of Oprah picked up by my DVR was actually described as follows: "Dr. Mehmet Oz answers viewers' questions about bike seats, hot tubs and tight pants.".

Obviously, times have been tough, so I was pretty psyched that all the new programming was finally hitting the airwaves.

But, being the über busy gal I am, I had to have kind of a quickie cram session to catch last week's new stuff. It went something like this:

As painful as it was, I forced myself to zip through the premiere of The View co-hosted by Kate Gosselin. That is, until Kate said to Victoria Beckham something like "Oh, your marriage made it to ten years, unlike mine.". Um, yeah, you guys are the same.

DVR - Delete.

Then, it was onto Oprah's interview with Whitney, who now inexplicably is starting to sound like Marge Simpson. Stuck with that until the "Bobby Brown spit in my face" portion.

Delete.

Not really a Jay Leno person (go Team Dave!) but I had to at least watch the premiere in the interest of journalistic integrity. Ok, fine, he lucked out with Kanye West and even got him to cry. And Jerry Seinfeld would be hilarious reading the phone book. But basically, this is just the same show, earlier time...no thanks.

Delete.

So when I realized Sunday night contained the Emmy's, Mad Men AND Curb Your Enthusiasm, well, it became another DVR feeding frenzy.

**Spoilers**

But then all of my Emmy faves kept losing. Bupkis for Tina Fey? Or Julia Louis Dreyfus? Or Tracey Morgan? Or Neil Patrick Harris? Or Jack McBrayer? Or Elisabeth Moss? Or Jon Hamm? Really?

Delete.

To the Nines

It's 09/09/09 and all I can think about is the 90's. What does that mean? Do I need to run out and get a lottery ticket?

Well, the new Melrose premiered last night and I approached it with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Would this remix bring me back to the days when I loved clunky shoes and could drink till all hours in smoky bars on a work night and still wake up fresh and perky?

Um, not really.

Now, to be fair, I watched a bit exhausted after a day of juggling a new job AND the symptoms of a possible case of swine flu. But, from what I could tell within my delirium, this is not your mama's Melrose.

*SPOILERS*
I mean, sure, it's fun to see old pals Sydney and Michael (seriously, what facial products DO they use???), and it wasn't exactly a secret that Syd turns up dead in ep one. But turning Melrose into a season long murder mystery, which is where it seems to be headed, just doesn't do it for me. I don't CARE who killed her because I don't know any of these new people!

I'm going to give it a few episodes just to be sure I'm not writing it off too quick, but I'm sorry, I want what I want, and I want D&D Advertising back. I want Frisco Jones Dr. Peter Burns to perform ridiculous operations. Bring back Billy's awesomely wooden performances. (I always loved,BTW, how he was a combo account guy and creative at the ad agency. Seems like he could've made enough cash to have a bigger apartment with that big job.)

But, of course, no one had a bigger job than land lady/ad agency guru/world ruler Amanda Woodward! Melrose, get SPECIAL GUEST STAR Heather in there stat! Is that too much to ask?

I know, I know, you can't go home again. I should give the NEW Melrose a chance. I'm trying. I guess I just want the OLD 90's back.

Jerry, you're up next. Don't let me down.

Good Vibrations

I'm declaring the 90's officially back.

First, the 90210 reprise (no matter how crappy it is). Then, rumblings of the return of Melrose Place (please, PLEASE bring back Andrew Shue).

Today, NBC was trying to get some traction by hinting that maybe, just maybe, George might make a quick return to ER's final season after all.

Yeah, right.

This got me thinking, if only, if only, they could just resurrect Seinfeld, it would be the perfect storm of 90's bliss.

I know we've made, um, quantum leaps since the end of Seinfeld (TEN years ago!), but I swear not a day goes by when I don't have some kind of incident that makes me feel like I'm in an actual episode.

Like today.

It was one of those non-spoken high noon type stand-offs in the laundry room. You know the kind I mean. I'm waiting for a machine. The weird lady folding her giant granny panties knows I'm waiting for a machine, yet no one says anything.

And so I wait. She knows I'm waiting. I know she knows I know she knows I'm waiting.

And still I wait.

Sigh.

I miss when Seinfeld would relish these moments in all their high waisted-jean glory. Since I know it ain't comin' back, I guess I'll have to just be content with other 90's-esque satisfaction, like a Democrat in the White House.

And in the meantime, I guess I'll just return to My So-Called Life.

Dance Fever

*SPOILERS*

I've got a bit of dance on the brain, and not just cuz EVERY network seems to have a dance show: Dancing with the Stars, America's Best Dance Crew, So You Think You Can Dance, Your Mama Don't Dance and of course, Step It Up and Dance.

It's important you say that last one as botoxed zombie host Elizabeth Berkley says it, Step it up ANNNNNNNNNND Dance. (Do you even KNOW how much will power it took for me to take the high road and not post a Showgirls pic??)

I have dance on the brain because I saw A Chorus Line for the first time this weekend (with Mario Lopez, natch) and realized Step it up and Dance is basically (duh) kind of just a weekly real life version of this very show. Ok, a reality show real life, but real-iSH.

And I felt the same heartbreak when the fictional auditioners in A Chorus Line got cut as I did when I watched real life Oscar get eliminated this week because the producers kept Michael for drama on Step it up and Dance. I mean, ANNNNND Dance.

Now, I have already mentioned in the interest of full disclosure that I have met Oscar, but, bias aside...there were some sketchy machinations going on. Like, what a co-WINK-ee-dink that the 4 dancers on the winning team went boy girl boy girl...just as the dance number required.

And I appreciate that Jason Alexander has this whole other dance-related life unrelated to Seinfeld, but A) let's be honest, the whole time you were watching you kept thinking, WHAT is George Costanza doing here? and B) if he was not there in a voting capacity then why have him?

Finally, while I continue to cry FOUL at the Damn Yankees challenge that sent dear Oscar home, on the Bravo site, you can vote for who YOU think should've gone home. Now, I admit my computer is so old, it's practically the one from the 1984 Apple commercial, but when I tried to vote for Michael as the loser...it didn't work.

Bravo web people, now it's time for YOU to do some fancy footwork.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Oh dear. As if NBC doesn't have enough problems, early peeks at Lipstick Jungle's promos reveal that they are in need of a new wardrobe stylist, stat! The Sex and the City wannabe (there are so many this season) boasts Brooke Shields arguably as its biggest name. Not to discount Kim Raver from 24, or that girl (Lindsay Price) that played Steve's baby mama on 90210, but let's be honest, Brooke is a legend.

So why are they dressing her like a man...no, worse, like a woman in 1998????

Everything I've seen thus far has shown her in boxy man-suits that aren't sexy at all, but worse, these promo stills have her in [needle off the record]....LEATHER PANTS!!! This is a travesty even worse than the animal print shoes they all have on that are practically special ordered from the "slutty cliche wardrobe" section at Central Casting.

I don't mean to make it "Pick on NBC" week. After all, I think getting Jerry Seinfeld to guest star on the season premiere of 30 Rock is like, the best thing ever. Now if only I didn't have to wait till October.

Yadda yadda yadda...