Yesterday, holed up in my strep throat hovel (my bedroom) with popsicles and hot tea...I watched (all day!) a marathon of the most recent America's Next Top Model that is having its finale this Wednesday.
I am usually a rabid fan of the show. I did not watch this cycle, because Tyra annoyed me to no end the last cycle, and the show started to get under my skin. But yesterday I was so ill that I didn't really feel like watching my DVR'd selections (documentaries mainly)...and I kept it on the marathon. Which brings me here.
I am so sorry for neglecting you, Jay Manuel, Miz Jay Alexander, the juicy Nigel Barker, and the Twiggy-replacement Paulina Porizkova. I stand corrected. The show is still skittles mixed with marshmallow cheesy goodness, and I seek solace and acceptance. I thank you Tyra, for providing me with my makeup/fashion (sorta)/makeover/photography (sorta) fix...and tho I still want to poke you in the eye...I can't seem to quit you....But thanks most importantly for this (watch especially the Lauren bit about 5:54 in...)
...I'm a sheep that strayed from the flock. And I'm crossing my fingers for Anya. Or Fatima. Or Whitney. All of them. It's cheese in a tube mixed with body glitter, and I love every minute of it again.
But honestly? If I could choose? I'd chose Anya.
(I promise to return to my regularly scheduled programming tomorrow or Tuesday. Thank you for allowing me this brief diversion)...