"Tell Me What You Don't Like About Yourself"/This Show

As you may know, the season premiere of Nip/Tuck aired this past week. As you may not know, this new season is completely based on the experience of (Drs) Julia Bensfield and Cissy Fenwick. And we are not happy about it.

For those of you who aren't familiar with this (so-so) FX series, allow me to fill you in: Two plastic surgeons, (Drs) Christian Troy and Sean McNamara, live in Miami where they perform cutting edge surgeries on women and men who are unhappy with their bodies (as they should be!). Sean and Christian are not gay, nor are they brothers, but they share a South Beach mansion for some reason and are usually cooking dinner together.

This season, by very curious coincidence, Christian and Sean have packed up and moved to Los Angeles--- aka "The Mecca of Plastic Surgery" aka "The City Where Cissy and Julia Shop at Smart&Final." Before all the sexy west coast freak-show-surgeries can begin, Xtian and Sean need to make a name for themselves in this little desert city. BUT HOW???

Here's where a little thing I like to call The LA Montage comes in pretty handy. A perfect fusion of the opening of The Hills and the Dogg brothers' getting-ready-to-go-out self tanner and cologne-soaked scene from True Life: I'm a Clubber, the Nip/Tuck montage did not disappoint. Uh oh! The boys need to go out and pick up clients! Christian can't decide on a blazer! Sean is fussing around with his hair pomade! Sean has a black baby with no babysitter! Christian has tried on every blazer in the (shared) Malibu pad and tossed them onto his bed! Cosmos are being poured! Everyone is tan! Christian and Sean's moves aren't working on the ladies because they are G-A-Y!

To make a long story short: Christian found a blazer. Oh, and Lauren Hutton told the boys that the only way to get clients was to get publicity. She recommends becoming consultants on "Hearts and Scalpels," an eerily similar fake show within-a-show. They get the gig, they get exposure, they get patients (including 1. a studio exec who likes to get whipped by Cassssaaaannnnndrrrraaaa and 2. The Not-Heather Locklear, Not-Andrew Shue, Not-Courtney Thorne Smith Woman From Melrose Place) and suddenly our boys have been sucked into the world of fame, power and dirty. sexy. money.

Which brings me to my original concern: How DARE FX take the Cissy Fenwick and Julia Bensfield story??We moved out here as sexy young plastic surgeons, looking for a new city and a beach house where we could stock our blazers and raise our interracial infant. Now look at us: writing on a hit TV show, getting hair plugs (Cissy), and feuding over things that are superficial...all while sewing up nostrils and putting implants into a tranny's third breast. Think about it, FX. Now I have a meal to cook with my roommate!

Maybe My Mom Was Right

Growing up I was not allowed to watch television. I know, the humanity. As a child I really didn't know any different. I went to an all girls Catholic school so we wore uniforms. No body wore trendy clothes such as t-shirts featuring the boys from "New Kids on the Block" a band I only became familiar with in high school. I never really worried about not being able to watch t.v. Sometimes I would go over to my friend Bo's house and we would watch MacGuyver and then play MacGuyver in the back yard as soon as it was over. I wasn't aware growing up of all the television gold I was missing.

It is now that I am an adult that I am starting to realize how in the dark I am when it comes to pop culture from the 80s and 90s. I am the last person you want on your team playing trivial pursuit or catchphrase when the question pertains to anything entertainment related. During a recent game of catchphrase my clue was "Fraggle Rock" I was completely lost. However, if it is a question about books I'm the first to shout out an answer. Reading was my television, and I was a feign. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but when you read as much as I did you become quite good at it. I could put away books by Lois Lowry, Roald Dahl, Judy Blume, Edward Eager, Norton Juster, and a handful of others in just a couple of days as a kid, and now as an adult I often used to find myself reading a book in just a couple of hours if I had the free time.

Our first month out here Julia and I didn't have a television because it was coming in my car which I shipped from DC and ended up being a month late. Finally it arrived and now we have cable.
I am officially addicted. There is so much television out there I can barely tear myself away. I record everything and anything. From cooking shows, to comedy shows, to old sitcoms that ended before I was born.
I recently watched "Whose the Boss?" for the first time, and spent about 15 minutes grilling Julia on the details of the show. "You mean she hired a MALE MAID?!" "HOW SOON DO THE KIDS START HOOKING UP WITH EACH OTHER?" I shouted over the cheesy opening credits. I have no concept of a family sitcom because most of the shows I watch are recent ones where the entire story line revolves around drug using, sexually mature, corrupted youth.
I'm somewhat used to watching network television but cable is a whole new world to me. I cant put down the remote. I mastered it in under a day, I can page through hundreds of channels in seconds, if I even chose to watch something I haven't pre-recorded or isn't "On Demand". My vocabulary as entirely changed. I now know what "page up and page down" mean, what DVR, and On Demand mean. I had absolutely no regret when we go our cable bill and I realized I was spending more on cable that month then groceries.

I used to fall asleep like this:



Now I fall asleep to this:

"Kids Nation" Contract is Thicker then the Futon Mattress We Couldnt Afford

If someone asks me what I "do" I say babysitter. I would love to be able to say improviser, or photographer of whatever activity I happen to feel like doing that day. For now though, my job, my main responsibility, is taking care of kids. I love my job, its fun, not a gruelling 9-5 office job. I still get to be creative, and influential, and create memories. And I get to go home at the end of my day. I basically get the best part of parenting. Sure, I'm missing out on the fact that eventually jobs end and children are forever, but its still pretty great. Now that I have presented my job, and that I enjoy it, and that its a large enough part of my life that I feel confident commenting on current issues involving today's children. I would like to bring up something weighing heavily on my mind: Kid Nation.

Kid Nation, for those of you who don't know is a television show on CBS where 40 children ranging in age from 8 to 15 attempt to create a functioning society on a set built in Santa Fe. Filmed during the summer; the children even go so far to create a government system with little to no adult supervision. The compete on teams participating in various physical tasks. These tasks determine weather they receive gifts such as more then one outhouse, or a television set. I watched part of this show tonight and my first thought is that these kids parents must be massive gambling addicts. And at this point that are gambling with their child's emotional and physical well being.

As I was watching these children trying to create a functioning society, something real adults are still trying to do; I would occasionally catch myself dissing certain kids in my head. "Oh really blue team kid with weird shorts, your hands are tired? well you just bought yourself double overtime cooking chicken nuggets" or when they cut to a certain 10 year old girl crying at night in her sleeping bag I first thought "Oh come on, you're fine, your mom will be there when you get out, just go to sleep and think about tomorrow when you get to compete in scorching heat again in order to win the chance to take a break for 5 minutes and actually enjoy being a kid" Then I remembered all the times I cried at camp and missed everyone and thing from my mom to the random stuffed animal I never thought twice about at home but suddenly deeply regretted not packing as an essential item for outdoor camping. When I was homesick I would cry and other girls would cry and we would all comfort each other and our counselor would tell us stories and makes us giggle and we got to ride this emotional roller coaster all in the comfort and safety of our dark tent. Not a sound stage with multiple recording devises showcasing my emotional snorting and slobbery confessions of sleeping with the lights on.

The parents of these children are gambling with their kids emotions because this could either be a great experience for their kids or a horrible one. I cant imagine if the entire world could see me as a goofy 7 year old at camp who says my name is "thisthy." CBS is quite aware that this could end up being a situation ripe for a scandalous law suit. So much so in fact that they had each parents or guardian of the precipitating kids sign a massive liability contract. The contract basically states that the parents/guardians cannot sue the network or its affiliates if their child dies, is injured, or contracts a sexually transmitted disease. A case jut waiting to be tried by a certain member of Manhattan Law. This says a lot about how the notion of "childhood" is slowly disappearing that it is a valid concern that a group of kids ages 8-15 might pass around an STD. This is more then just the cell phones, UGGs, miniskirts, and generally just smaller versions of adult clothing we see on most of today's youths at outings to their local shopping malls. Now I'm not saying that the camp I went to did have boys and girls sneaking out together and being in relationships and sharing first kisses, and maybe even more. However, I can say for a fact that my mother would NEVER have signed a contract stating that not only was she aware of this as a possible problem but she was so desperate for me to go to camp she would sign our rights away.

I'm so conflicted because on one hand I have this blog post which blasts this show. Which I do think is ridiculous, but at the same time its so ridiculous its hard for me not to say, watch this show.