Arguably the world’s first reality program, The Real World premiered in New York City in 1992.  Since then, the relatively simple concept (seven strangers in a house with cameras tracking their every move) has traveled the country, and across the Atlantic Ocean for two seasons in London and Paris.  It’s inspired a spin-off series called Road Rules (along with endless subsequent versions of “The Challenge”), and bred many faux-celebrities that helped wide-eyed kids around the country believe that making out in hot tubs and having screaming matches with your roommates on national television is a way to “make it” in whatever kind of venue you so chose (and can get you a string of motivational speaking appearances at colleges around the country).

I was always a Real World fan, especially during it’s best seasons…Hawaii (with Ruthie the alcoholic), New Orleans (Mardi Gras and a Mormon), Chicago (the season to capture 9/11 on the air), and Las Vegas (two in-house romances, a pregnancy scare, the name Trishelle…), but ever since the show seems to lack any pizzazz or  shock value.  It’s not groundbreaking anymore, there isn’t anything new about it, thanks to an abundance of reality copycats over the years.  Casts are simply churned out from the same formula, making the show so forgettable that I completely missed the last two seasons – Hollywood and Cancun.  Their alcohol-infused locales seemingly had no potential for any sort of plausible  ”reality.”  Seeing the trailer for the newest edition of this old staple (the 23rd season!) in Washington DC somehow got me excited.  Maybe it’s the city, maybe it’s the remnants of Obama-mania still the air, the promise of change, or the idea that they might be doing more than just drinking.  Whatever the reason, I was intrigued and surprisingly eager to tune in.

My first take on the cast: I like them.   Andrew is goofy and lovable, and his endless quest for ladies is hilarious (but does have the possibility to get tiresome).  The casting directors and producers did fulfill the stereotypical requirements for roommates that have proven to be timeless, and made the show a success:  the bisexual (Mike), the once- sheltered-girl-turned-rebel (Emily), the aggressive black man (Ty), the Southern conservative girl (Callie, who picks the bedroom with the Reagan portrait above the bed).  Given these predictable molds, it comes as no surprise that within the first hour, there was a typical heated discussion over religion.  Ty tries to tell Mike the Christian, that believing in God is stupid…chaos ensues

The third episode was a bit redundant, as Callie’s body image issues dominated most of the hour.  I’m excited that bisexual Mike (who seems to lean more one way than the other) is comfortable enough with himself to take the roommates to a gay club so early in the experience AND bring someone home (get it!).  Also, it’s nice to see that the rest of the group has no problem with it (and that he talks about his hookup with Ty!).  Homophobic house mates are so last decade.

Aside from some of the predictable issues, I’m hoping for intriguing television this season.  Ty and Emily’s obvious attraction towards one another has drama written all over it.  You KNOW that is going to blow up in both of their faces at some point.  In fact, in the first two episodes, it seems like all the roommates love each other so much, it will be interesting to see how long it lasts (and the answer is apparently not very long, as Mike and Ashley lash out at one another).  Can somebody give Josh and Erika some more screen time please?  It looks like that’s coming tonight, apparently Josh has a wandering eye, despite his long-term girlfriend.   What happened to his first day declaration that he had a crush on his music loving female counterpart?  Hopefully the kids will be given something to do soon, to get them out of the house, and give them more opportunity for drama and hilarity.

Are you watching the Real World DC? Can you believe it’s been almost 20 years since the original?

Love Actually (2003) and He’s Just Not That Into You (2009) to name a few.  Okay, really just Love Actually, which I always watch at Christmastime, but could really watch any day of the year.  HJNTIY was good, but its philosophy kind of depresses me.  Love Actually, on the other hand, is like a big cup of delicious hot chocolate.  It makes you feel, warm, cozy, and full all at the same time.  Maybe it’s the largely British cast that draws me in (those damn accents get me every time) or the European setting (London and Marseilles) that make me want to hop a plane and risk the poor exchange rate to become an ex-pat.  Or maybe it’s the use of “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys (or “Wherever you will Go” by The Calling, remember them? Circa eighth or ninth grade?) that makes me so happy.  Sure, it’s arguably cliché, but in its portrayal of so many different kinds of relationships, it manages to capture the love in our lives that “actually is all around,”  from the unrequited feelings for a best friend’s wife, to the love between siblings, or parents and their children.  Love Actually isn’t an ensemble casts’ quest to find a date before Christmas, but a story that follows of a group of loosely connected individuals as they realize that love is possible, and uncover what may have been out there all along.

One of my favorite moments: an understated, respectful declaration of love

Valentine’s Day recognizes the success of Love Actually and attempts to recreate it with an American, Hallmark holiday version.  Based in Los Angeles, there is a slew of recognizable actors of all ages, ranging from Taylor Lautner to Shirley MacLaine.  While this will certainly be heralded as “another cliché romantic comedy,” for some reason I can’t wait! It even uses The Black Eyed Peas “I Gotta Feeling,” in its trailer, a song that drove me crazy all summer long, but it’s now six months later and I can’t turn away.

Sure some of the plots will be silly, unrealistic, or overdone, but everyone needs a little sap around the holidays.  It doesn’t hurt for it to come in the form of ridiculously attractive celebrities.  I know not to believe that my life will play out likes scenes from any of the above films, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy their sugary sweetness along with a bowl of ice cream and sigh, thinking about how great it would be if it did.

I know it’s a movie, but it doesn’t seem the most sensible choice for a thirty-something single mom, risking her career (and her heart, aw) for a washed up alcoholic.  But I guess there lies the film’s conflict.

NY mag’s Vulture blog researched the portrayal of music journalists in film over the years, to determine  the most realistic characterization of the profession.  Turns out, the reporter-subject affair story line isn’t that uncommon.

One of my favorite journalist-turned insider roles is that of William in Almost Famous (2000). Written and directed by Cameron Crowe, and allegedly based on his teen years writing for Rolling Stone, William carefully treads through the uncertainty of traveling with the band Stillwater, and struggles with growing close to his subjects while attempting to remain objective in his writing.  Like a younger Tom Wolfe, minus his three-piece white summer suits, William experiences life as Stillwater  lives it, from the parties and the groupies (or “band aids” as Penny Lane describes them), to management disputes, and acid trips.

Wolfe himself originated this “new journalism” in the 60′s.  His book The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test tells the tale of Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters as they traveled the country in their loud colorful school bus, dropping acid, and tuning out amidst an era of change.

As far as I know, Wolfe was not romantically involved with any of his subjects (but who knows, it was the sixties), but it’s completely possible that other ethically questionable behavior did occur.  The kind of writing that Jean and William attempt (and Wolfe succeeded in creating) is challenging.  Having so much access to a subject can produce great insight without the boundaries that are often so hard to break down in a traditional interview.  But as one grows closer to a subject, the stakes become much higher.  In Crazy Heart, the outcome of Jean’s interview with Bad is never revealed.  Her profession becomes secondary, which is fine, but ultimately I was left wondering: Did she write a story? Did anyone ever find out about their relationship?  If so, would any former employer recommend her for another job afterwards?

The music alone is a throwback to their college days, a time when they were young, idealistic, and all together a family.  It’s sad to see how time and life have come between them, and how unhappy some have become.  By the end of the film, problems get resolved too quickly (or not at all), but it’s comforting to watch how old friendships can sustain time and distance, as well as the power of music, alcohol, and drugs, to bring you back to the good ol days.

Out of context this dancing-in-the-kitchen scene probably seems a little cliché (shouldn’t someone be using a slotted spoon as a microphone?), but I couldn’t help but think about my college friends, and our own impending “reunions” down the road (although hopefully on better circumstances).  The premise of the film is pretty timeless: old friends coming together again, reminiscing about the past while facing the problems of the present and the threats of the future.  So now, almost thirty years later, can there be a Big Chill for the Facebook generation?  Would its kitchen-song-and-dance scene feature Lady Gaga and a Red Bull and vodka?  And who would play these college friends?  Many of today’s most accomplished actors got their break in The Big Chill, including Glenn Close, William Hurt, and Kevin Kline.

While some things change (namely clothing, hairstyles), many stay the same.   Maybe I’m drawn to this film because I recently graduated college and now worry about where I’ll be in ten years, and if those friends will be with me in the future.  I’d like to see an updated version of this story, equipped with an equally wonderful soundtrack as the original. (The closest thing to this film of late has been The Hangover, although it deals more with the imminent threat of a missing friend and large period of forgotten memory, rather than reminiscing about the good times the trio had together years ago).  I could see (500) Days of Summer’s Marc Webb doing great things with the music after his hilariously fantastic Hall & Oates sequence for Joseph Gordon-Levitt (he was a music video director first, after all) and the film’s great soundtrack.

There has been a lot of commentary on the film’s ending.  Jason Reitman (also the director of Thank You For Smoking and Juno) would rather posequestions at the end of a story, than tie up loose ends and let everyone  live happily-every-after-before-they-walk-off-into-the-sunset.  For me, the vague, open-to-interpretation ending is great because it facilitates conversation, debate, and frustration among its viewers.  Before going any further, if you don’t want to know the ending of the film STOP READING RIGHT NOW.  I’m about to discuss my different interpretations in five…four…three…two…

Ryan and Alex (Photo:www.altfg.com/Dale Robinette/Paramount)

When Alex opens the door and the voices of young children are heard in the background, followed by a man who we can only assume is her husband… Iwas crushed (a woman in the theater actually let out a very audible “OH NO!”).  How could she do that to him?  I initially allowed George’s sad eyes and exposed vulnerability make me feel sorry for him.  But in retrospect, what did he think would happen? What the hell was he doing in Chicago?  It seems as if he was finally admitting to himself and others that he wanted a relationship.  He decided to proclaim this revelation by taking a page from a romantic movie cliche: an impromptu flight followed by a race through an airport to declare his love for someone.  As much as I wanted to applaud Ryan for taking this step and acknowledging that he does in fact enjoy the company of other human beings, (and may want it on a regular basis), Alex gave noindication that she was ready to sign up for a ring, a house, and two kids down the road (probably because she already has all of that?).  If anything, Alex did to Ryan what Ryan presumably did to many other women in airports (and possibly airplanes?).  It was refreshing to see the gender role reversal in a situation that has played out in film and television for years and years.  Instead of a heartbroken woman devastated to find her lover married with children, a smart, sexy, independent woman is doing that to a man.  I still feel that what she did to him was cruel, but my feminist side applauds her ability to do what she wants, regardless of what society’s conventions tell her.

Natalie, on point. (Photo:www.screencave.com)

On the subject of feminism, Reitman’s film highlights strong women in various roles.  Alex, the aforementioned romantic figure in Ryan’s life, is arguably a feminist hero because of the film’s late turn and her apparent disregard for a man’s feelings compared to her own satisfaction.  Natalie Keener, the recent college graduate, with perfectly pressed pencil skirts, and tightly pulled ponytail (as if to contain all of her bursting intelligence and potential).  Natalie is determined to succeed.  In a professional world that makes its living by firing people (“This is our time!” Jason Bateman says, after describing the current sour state of the recession), Natalie appears especially cold, advocating firings through video chat, instead of face-to-face conversations.  She makes Ryan, who some could describe as the corporate grim reaper, look like Santa Clause.  Though she is rigid and awkward, she is an example of a successful woman, who clearly is smart and capable.  But as she travels with Ryan to see what he does 300 days out of the year, we begin to see another side of Natalie.  She crumbles when her boyfriend breaks up with her (via text message! another subtle example of the film’s commentary on technology and the decline of human interaction) and admits to Ryan and Alex, that she always thought she’d be married and driving a Jeep Cherokee (really?) by this point in her life.  It’s also revealed that she followed her boyfriend to Nebraska (again, really?) despite receiving more attractive job offers in larger and more exciting markets than Omaha. This once seemingly powerful man-eater, now appears to be a “typical” girl, who’s obsessed with marriage and planning the rest of her life according to some guy (EW‘s Karen Valby writes about this perpetual problem for female characters in films.).

In the film’s final scenes, Ryan makes progress on his journey towards establishing and maintaining meaningful relationships.  His confrontation with Alex in Chicago does not deter him from doing nice things for others he has come to like (in the case of Natalie) or realized he has taken for granted (his family). My reaction to his heartbreak is an optimistic one.  I don’t think that what happened with Alex is going to turn him off women or relationships for the rest of his life.  Everything in Ryan’s life is based on convenience, from his frequent flyer miles, to his VIP club cards that allow him to bypass lines at the airport.  Because of this, he believed that relationships with women would be the same way.  And for the most part they were, as he met women on his various stops across the country, spending romantic evenings together in transit.  Alex was different, but still made Ryan believe that love could be attained in this same convenient way.  I think that getting burned by Alex reflects what he has most likely done to other women (like the woman in his apartment building, who has since moved on) and allows him to realize that something like love will never be that convenient.  Throughout the film, different moments make him realize he may want to change his lifestyle, or at least share it with someone.  Though his relationship with Alex appeared special, it was simply a facade.  I am hopeful that Ryan will continue with his life, but now knows that finding “the one” is not going to be as easy as striking up a conversation in an airport bar.  It may require settling down, it may require changing, and it most certainly will require work.

The final scenes are open to interpretation... (Photo: NY Post)

Given the “good” news that he is needed on the road again, Ryan feels validated as an asset to the company, and as a person.  But will he continue his nomadic lifestyle? Or will he finally take that trip he has never had interest in before, but could be considering after his conversation with Natalie?  The shot of him looking up at the departures board leaves us with that very question.  Again, my optimistic self believes that he will pick a flight and just go.  He’ll end up somewhere totally different, meet someone totally new, create a life for himself, ultimately with that connection he was avoiding for all those years.  I noticed that the departures list was just for domestic flights, so his destination may not be that exotic, however he is just a good boy from small town Wisconsin, so maybe it’s not about the place, but the person, after all.

The intertwined stories of relatively unknown New York Julie Powell (Amy Adams) and household name Julia Child (Meryl Streep) have a logical association.  Though their stories take place more than 50 years apart (Julia’s begins in 1949, Julie’s in 2002), both capture each woman at a crossroads in her life. Fresh off the boat from America, Julia Child accompanies her diplomat husband Paul (Stanley Tucci) to Paris, where she doesn’t speak the language (but loves to try, Meryl’s first lines are Julia’s hilarious attempts at basic French sayings), and doesn’t know exactly what she will do with her life.  She is determined not to become another French housewife (“French women don’t do anything!”), yet wishes to find a way to incorporate her love of eating into something productive.  Her answer: she ambitiously enrolls herself in a class at Le Cordon Bleu, where she hones a craft which will later introduce her to the world of cookbooks, television, and international fame.  Across the ocean,  over the East River, and in an apartment above a pizzeria, Julie works out the frustrations from her thankless job and college frenemies (the kind of women who meet for the “ritual cobb salad lunch,” only to sit silently while they chatter on their cell phones to their assistants about their terribly important lives, looking down at women like Julie for her lowly cubicle-headset-wearing existence) through a year-long quest to create every recipe from Julia’s own Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  Being a woman of the modern world, Julie executes this venture through a blog, which allows her to follow through on her old literary aspirations (she did publish half a novel…).

Confronting the difficulties of cooking a crustacean. (Photo courtesy of stageandcinema.com)

Julie is obviously the more relatable character.  Besides her modern context, her self-deprecating humor and insecurities about failure are things most young women have felt and experienced.  Her old college friends who have no time for her because of their very important million dollar deals, is another indicator that Powell is the film’s every woman character, as she appears to live a “normal,”  life.

Julia showing us how it's done (Photo courtesy of NYTimes/David Giesbrecht/Columbia Pictures)

Julia’s life is a dream, and watching Meryl Streep play her is a delight.  Julie gets lost reading about Julia, and her obsession with her verges on disturbing as she drones on about how perfect Child was and how she could never compare.  While watching Streep perfect Child’s voice, mannerisms, and overall spirit, the viewer too becomes caught up in Julia, and her appreciation for all of life’s deliciousness.  You can’t help but smile while watching her on-screen, she simply puts you in a good mood.  For foodies, fans, or just those who appreciate empowering stories about independent and ambitious women, this is for you.  Speaking from someone who knew little to nothing about Child before seeing the film, if you have grown up with Julia Child’s distinctive voice in your ear, Meryl Streep’s performance will certainly bring you back to the days in front of your parents’ television.  While some may argue that Amy Adams’ screen time was far less enjoyable, I disagree. For me, watching Julie was like envisioning myself, or any other mere kitchen mortal with secret Top Chef aspirations, making good on a life long dream.  It’s inspiring, motivating, funny, sweet, and one of my favorite films of the year. Visually, the shots of the food are appetizing enough to make you want to move to France for good, or decide to dine out every night of the week and disregard exercise and all advice against using too much butter.  Bon apetit!

One of the many dating lectures Alex gives Gigi. (Photo courtesy of lafemmereel.com)

The many discussions between Alex (Justin Long) and Gigi focus on the way that single girls should recognize if and when a man is interested in them. According to the womanizing Alex, “if a man wants to date you, he will find a way to make it happen.”  This theory makes sense, and eliminates many of the possibilities and excuses (“he’s nervous!” “he doesn’t like the phone,” “he’s out-of-town,” “he’s in a conservative religious cult that doesn’t allow him to date outside the sect…but if he could he totally would date you!”) that we try to rationalize our lives and selves with.  But what about those far-fethched situations that actually do happen?  Well those are the exceptions, not the rule and we must stop hoping to be the former because to put it bluntly, we’re not.

Or at least that’s what the heart of the film’s relationship philosophy is about. Based on the popular book written by Sex and the City writers Greg Behrendt (spot him as the priest who marries Beth’s sister!) and Liz Tuccillo, the theory’s simplicity is logical.  Men are not complex, they don’t play games.  If they like you they’ll call you, and if they don’t, they’ll run away from you.  But this also takes the power and control away from women, something some may argue we rarely have to begin with.   Why must we be the ones to wait and see if a guy is willing to “make it happen”?  Why can’t we make it happen for ourselves?  Why are there still so many gendered expectations and rules associated with dating that force us into a back-and-forth of coy text messages, calls, or emails, all with the purpose of revealing an interest, but not too much of an interest (because that would be a turnoff…).  And thanks to technology, there are so many new applications to carry out these ways of said rules and flirting, as Mary (Drew Barrymore) says, “it’s exhausting!”

What worries me after watching this several times, is that its core message (and its title) is not an empowering philosophy for women to hold onto.  It’s basically a “tough shit” guide to life, in which we are once again viewed as inferior and live our lives at the expense of men.  We should wait and see if a guy likes us, but not put any effort forth into pursuing him further, because that signifies that we’re a clingy, needy, freak who had his and hers monogrammed towels scattered throughout the apartment, only after changing our Facebook profile picture to an picture of us together (the only one, taken when we first met).  Granted there are extreme levels of behavior on either end, many of the examples in the film depict the crazy, obsessive behavior of women who don’t understand why something didn’t work out with that guy they went out with.  My reaction to all of this (and perhaps my own life in general?): why sit by the phone waiting for him to call you, when you can be the one to “make it happen.”  Phew, that wasn’t so hard…now that I’ve said that I’m starting to shake with nerves at the thought of shamelessly hitting on guys in bars, striking up random conversations, and asking men out on dates.  Maybe women don’t have it so bad after all.

With a mediocre 7-7 record, the Jets were surprisingly still “in the hunt,” thanks to the jumbled AFC playoff picture.  With two games to go, the Jets needed to win AND hope for other teams around them to lose, in order to even consider a playoff appearance.  Playing in a late game yesterday, they were given a belated Christmas present in the form of Miami, Jacksonville, and Baltimore losses, opening up the door to the second wild card spot.  Now all they had to do was win.  Against the Colts.  Did I mention that’s Peyton Manning’s team?

But win they did! 29-15, a two-score, convincing victory, albeit Peyton and other starters left the game in the third quarter.  While watching Sportscenter this morning, many NFL talking heads were insinuating that the Jets won the game solely because of Peyton’s absence.  Can we please get a little more respect?  The Jets held the Colts to nine points in the first half, Mark Sanchez didn’t turn the ball over (in fact you could argue that he efficiently “managed” the game at 12/19 106 yards), and they demonstrated why their running game (200+ yards of rushing offense) and defense are so highly ranked in the league.  It was great to see another rookie quarterback roughed up for a change.  As Peyton’s back up Curtis Painter isn’t likely to get a lot of playing time any time soon.  Putting him in the game with only a five point lead was either a vote of confidence by his head coach, or a decision to completely give up all together.   I know that with Peyton in the game, anything can happen in a matter of seconds, but I think the Jets’ play deserves a little more attention.  This is a team that can look very good, or very, very, bad, and has lost plenty of fourth quarter leads and games that leave their fans , coaches, and critics dumbfounded.  Yesterday, they didn’t look like that team.  They hung with Peyton and Co. through the third quarter, displayed talent on extra teams thanks to Brad Smith’s 106-yard kickoff return for a touchdown, and seized an opportunity to beat up on a rookie quarterback (what goes around, comes around…think about some of Dwight Freeney’s hits on Sanchez earlier in the game).  Now that the Jets are in control of their own destiny, they need to play well in order to believe that they are playoff-worthy.  Peyton or no Peyton, win or loss, as a fan, it is reassuring to see the team rise to the occasion, and capitalize on an opportunity.

Talk all you want about how other teams (Ravens, Dolphins, Jaguars, Colts) gave the Jets a break yesterday, but please talk more about how the Jets for once didn’t blow it.

I have been cheering on the last few episodes of GG.  Following a similar trajectory to last season, they started out a little rocky, with crazy drama that needed to be sewn up and put to bed (Georgina, Scott, later Olivia) before the real depths of the season could be explored.  Now we have Dan and Vanessa questioning their feelings for one another (which has been alluded to since V’s first episode), the truth about mysterious Mr. VDW, and Serena engaging in an affair with a married man.  Delicious.

In “The Debarted,” Chuck, who has been noticeably absent throughout much of the season except for instances where he is rescuing Jenny from foreign drug dealers, reaffirming Blair’s place in the world, and delivering fabulous lines like “Dude I’m Chuck Bass, even Europeans know what that means,” struggles with the memory of his late father.  In fear that he will always be weak in his eyes, Chuck is visited by his father’s ghost, who encourages him to push others away in attempts to be a man and conquer the business world.  Luckily, Chuck has more of a heart that his dear old dad.  In a touching scene at the hospital we finally get some details from Bart Bass’ accident, and find out that he passed away in his hospital bed, not at the scene of the crash.  Chuck was too emotional to remain in the room, and has be tormenting himself ever since.  Blair insists that Chuck wasn’t afraid of death, he was afraid of feelings, but all that has changed now, and he has become more of a man than his father ever was. Aw.  Finally Chuck agrees to visit his father’s grave, and the two walk out together, as he lovingly kisses B on the forehead.  Wonderful.

That isn’t exactly “Peyton Place”-worthy, what is though, surrounds none other than Serena.  In a ridiculous move to conclude the Thanksgiving episode, she irrationally ran off with Trip to presumably hide out with him at his family’s Long Island “cottage.”  Reason Serena is stupid #43759:  When confronted by Maureen, Trip’s wife, Serena explains “you have no right to be here.”  She’s married to him! You’re 18! Not to mention, you’re delusional! Didn’t you listen to anything Lily said? If Trip is going to lie to Maureen, who he walked down the aisle with, what do you think he’ll do to you? He’ll get bored, quick, and then you’ll be another sad ex-mistress with nothing to get noticed for.

What was “Peyton Place” about this episode, is the fall out from Trip and Serena’s fling, including a messy car accident reminiscent of another political scandal, Chappaquiddick.  Lucky for S, no one died in this scenario, but Trip was an ultimate coward and moved Serena’s lifeless body into the driver’s seat, before fleeing the scene.  He and Maureen ask everyone to lie about the situation if questioned, in order to protect the image of the recently elected public official.  Nate of course handles this by punching Trip in the face (that’s two family members now? Is Grandfather next?).  As the episode winds down, Nate is left alone in a hospital room, watching Sleeping Beauty dream away her own “transgressions.”  Sweet, but I really don’t know if I’m ready for a Nate and Serena round two! Or maybe I am, technically they’ve never been in a relationship…

As Chuck heads towards Bart’s grave, with yellow roses which he said were his mother’s favorite, he notices a woman standing before the headstone crying, also with yellow roses.  COULD THIS BE CHUCK BASS’ MOTHER?  Our only information about her was that she died in childbirth (which was revealed last season while Dan and Chuck spent a few hours in a jail cell together.  Chuck explained he always thought he killed her and that Bart hated him for it), which was then countered by Chuck’s quick explanation that she actually died in a plane crash in the Andes (?).  Because that’s all we’ve ever known, it seems reasonable that it’s all a lie, Bart was one manipulative and powerful man, with private investigators a phone call way.  Could he have paid her to hide all of these years? Was it blackmail?  The possibilities are endless.  However, a fake-dead mother is a little much…which definitely classifies this story line as “Peyton Place.”

In the final minutes “Empire State of Mind” begins to play, which is fitting for the show, but seems a little late, don’t you think? The Blueprint 3 came out in September, shouldn’t the CW be a little ahead of oh, say every major pop radio station that is currently playing it on the hour, every hour? Also, Jay’s rapping fit awkwardly into shots with dialogue.  It would’ve been better if it were strictly piano/Alicia Keys’ chorus in the background.

It seems like we’ll have to wait a few weeks for new episodes (MARCH 8th!).  Will Lily tell Rufus what happened between her and her ex? Will Vanessa realize Dan’s abrupt “I love you,” is for real? Nate and Serena? CHUCK’S MOM?!

xoxo!

I believe that to be a celebrity, one has to one way or the other want that attention.  I don’t always believe those  who say they “hate the paparazzi” and just wish they could have some privacy.  If you really preferred a life of anonymity, you wouldn’t be starring in movies with million dollar budget, making your own Twitter account, or dining at The Ivy (not every star does this but still).  Also it’s not uncommon for celebs to have a healthy, or inflated, sense of self.  You almost have to,  look at politicians for example.  Even Barack Obama must be some sort of egomaniac to have the confidence to believe he could be elected President of the United States.  But does this justify one cheating on his or her significant other? Do we rationalize actions simply because one is a celebrity? Or even worse, do we expect it?

To me, this theory seems like an easy way out, and a depressing conclusion to a complicated situation.  Every person who has achieved success and gained notoriety will one day be unfaithful, because that is what we’ve come to expect?  Yes, there are many examples throughout our pop culture history, but at the same time, there are also longstanding Hollywood relationships.  We should hold these celebrities to a higher standard, because of the fame they have achieved, and the role models they have often become, and not let off easy with the “celebrity excuse.”  But similarly, private matters should remain private.  The increasing reports of Tiger’s “transgressions,” (now up to 10?) are disgusting and sad, but ultimately affect his wife and children more than anyone else.