The Best Show You're Not Watching: Friday Night Lights

Where I grew up in California, football is The Thing To Do on Friday nights. Every week from September to November (or longer, depending on playoff games), hundreds of students, parents, teachers, and tradition-loving locals flood the bleachers at Temple City High School to cheer the city's beloved Rams to green-and-gold gridiron victory. (Say that five times fast.) It doesn't matter if you know someone on the team or if you even like football—Friday night is game night. Diehard devotees—like my own mother and father, who proudly wave a TCHS flag on their car each fall, despite the fact that their youngest child left the district four years ago—hold tailgating parties in the parking lot with friends and neighbors before every kickoff. Cheerleaders enlist fans in synchronized roars between plays, as Rodney, the mascot, makes exaggerated hand gestures and does cartwheels up and down the track. Members of the high school marching band and accompanying dance team entertain the restless crowd with choreographed routines and familiar tunes at halftime. And when the athletes walk off to their locker room at the end of the night, everyone stands for the playing of the alma mater and points one finger toward the field in salute of both the team and the city they represent. It sounds cheesy, I know. But it's actually kind of great. When I lived there, I never loved my town more than in those moments, because those moments—even though they took place inside a football stadium—weren't just about sports or scores or school spirit. They were about history and community and all the attendant virtues and vices therein.

I'm going somewhere with this, I swear. Here, in fact:

Tonight, NBC begins airing the fifth and final season of Friday Night Lights, a show about high school football, yes, but also—and more importantly—a show about life and the people who live it the only way they know how in a tiny, tight-knit Texas town called Dillon, home of the Dillon Panthers and, now, the rival East Dillon Lions as well.

Clear your calendars, readers. This is a must-see.

My affection for FNL is obviously tinged with a certain amount of nostalgia, but I know plenty of cityfolk who love and worship the series just as much as I do, and who didn't spend every weekend of their youth singing solemn odes to their hometowns after watching 16-year-old boys mow each other down for fun. Many people I know who watch the show don't even like football. And that's fine. Football is really just a backdrop for the big picture anyway, an arena for other issues, like race and poverty and politics and family dysfunction. There's no shortage of nail-biting activity on the field, but the real action happens in homes and among families and friends.

I could go on forever about the many reasons why you should watch this underdog of a series—great writing and some of the best acting on TV come to mind—but I think you're better off experiencing it for yourself first. I've already seen tonight's episode, and it's good. Heartbreakingly so. But don't take my word for it.

About Last Night: Chuck, A Recap

Monday, May 10, 2010
8:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
Chuck, "Chuck Versus the Tooth"

I don't really want to get in the habit of writing recaps—a) because they take too long and b) because so many other sites already do them—but Monday's Chuck was just so great that I feel like I have to show you guys what you're missing. So if this didn't convince you to start watching, maybe the following will:

Previously, on Chuck: Ellie and Awesome go to Africa, where Awesome gets sick with something that looks like malaria but isn't, according to an evil Ring operative named Justin who's posing as a Doctor Without Borders. Sarah and Chuck move in together, and Chuck is so happy that it looks like the Cheshire Cat just vanished in front of his face leaving only its ridiculous, oversized grin. It's a little sad, actually. You just know that kind of bliss can't last.

Read the rest of the super-long, super-detailed recap after the jump, or just watch the episode on Hulu. The latter might actually be quicker (and will almost certainly be more entertaining). Spoiler alert, duh.

Be Still, My Firefly-Loving Heart...

Firefly: 10 Things We Didn't Know About the Sci-Fi Classic

About Last Night: Glee Goes "Bad"

Tuesday, May 4, 2010
9:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.
Glee, "Bad Reputation"

I used up most of my sentence-forming ability on this and this earlier tonight, so I'm going to recap last night's Glee, "Bad Reputation," via a short list of hits and misses. (Spoiler alert, obviously.)

Hit: Rachel's "Run, Joey, Run" music video
I'm sure some of you will question my judgment after reading this next part, but I think Rachel's story-song music video actually topped Sue Sylvester's pitch-perfect "Vogue" redo. It was just so hilariously cheesy and over-the-top—much like Rachel herself. Finn, Puck, and le Groff were genius as well, and I died a little when Sandy made a cameo as Rachel's gun-wielding father. Plus, the video set the stage for one of the episode's most important emotional moments—a confrontation between exes Rachel and Finn. (Not to mention that squeal-inducing Puckleberry scene. Swoon.)

Hit: Artie and Co.'s impromptu library performance of "U Can't Touch This"

I happen to have a soft spot for this song—in part because it reminds me of my little brother (right)—but that's not why I'm counting it as a hit. Artie and Co.'s ridiculous choreography, coupled with those billowing Hammer pants, was seriously cramazing. It also featured some of the glee club's most underused stars, so...win.

Hit: Brittany being Brittany
I keep meaning to make a list of the five best Brittany-isms, but it's impossible. There's a new "best" every week. Last night's was: "I had a cold, and I took all my antibiotics at the same time, and now...I can't remember how to leave."

Miss: Rachel's rendition of Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart"
This one kills me, readers. I really, really wanted to love it. "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is one of my all-time favorite "bad" songs (right up there with "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now"), and Lea Michele nailed the vocals. I liked the back and forth between Finn and le Groff, too. But something about the staging of this number just didn't work for me. I think maybe I've just been ruined forever by the literal video version (below). It's basically the best thing ever created. (Teaser: There are ninjas. And football players. And Fonzie clones. And references to Harry Potter and Lord of the Flies.)


Miss: Sue getting "Physical" for Olivia Newton-John
Jane Lynch is one of Glee's best assets. But I think the show sometimes relies too heavily on her for comic relief and runs the risk of nullifying her appeal altogether. It also occasionally overdoes the big-name guest-star thing. Newton-John's appearance on last night's episode felt at once random and contrived, which is no slight against the actress—I thought she was perfectly entertaining. I just didn't really get why she was there. Sue Sylvester doesn't need gimmicks—she is a gimmick. And I mean that in the best way possible.

Draw: Mr. Schue channeling Vanilla Ice on "Ice Ice Baby"
Look, I love Matthew Morrison and fully support him getting more opportunities to showcase his vast vocal stylings, but, honestly, I'm kind of over his repeated detours into hip-hop. "Ice Ice Baby" would have been a miss, but it was saved by the glee-club kids' dancing (way to go, Other Asian!) and by Artie's "Word to your mother" at the end. Let's put a rap (ha!) on Mr. Schue's rapping and give someone else (my brother, for instance) a shot at the crown.

About Last Night: Lost but Not Forgotten

Tuesday, May 4, 2010
9:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.
Lost, "The Candidate"

When the credits rolled on "The Candidate" last night, the first words out of my mouth—the only words out of my mouth—were: Did that just happen?

I mean, did it?

Sitting here, almost 24 hours later, I still can't quite wrap my head around what transpired on last night's episode. (Spoiler alert if you have yet to watch.) I knew going in that the stakes were high and getting higher—the much-hyped two-and-a-half-hour series finale airs in just a couple of short weeks—but I hadn't really considered what that meant until (seriously, spoiler alert) a makeshift bomb blew Sayid to pieces and flooded Widmore's sub, trapping Lost's most beloved duo, Jin and Sun, in a watery tomb—mere hours after their joyous reunion on the Island. I didn't expect the writers to let the twosome's happy occasion pass unspoiled—this is Lost, after all, not some J.Lo rom-com—but I had hoped that they'd at least allow us a grace period to revel in the lovers' recoupling before tearing the proverbial rug out from under us yet again. Crazy, I know. Suddenly I'm a romantic.

I get that Lost is just a show and Jin and Sun are just characters on that show, but my heart broke for them anyway. I even teared up a bit when Jin told Sun (in Korean) that he wasn't going to leave her—then or ever again. I mean, that's love, people. Stupid, irrational, against-all-odds love. It's not exactly great parenting though, is it? Did they forget they had a daughter? Who's going to care for her now that they're both 20,000 leagues under the sea? Is she going to stay with Sun's mother? Take her parents' place on the Island? There are SO MANY QUESTIONS. (Aaaand, I'm back.)

I think the part of the episode that really got to me last night was when Hurley and Jack broke down crying after making it back to shore and realizing they'd left three of their friends behind. Hurley's sobs upon hearing the news of their deaths were perhaps even more devastating than the deaths themselves. And Jack's face at the end, all twisted with grief and desperation, was like a punch in the gut after an already crippling fight. (Kudos to Jorge Garcia and Matthew Fox for their brilliant performances in that scene.) I can't even imagine what kind of emotional blows Team Darlton has in store for the May 23 finale. T-minus 18 days and counting.

About Last Night: No Fire Yet, but Maybe a Spark on 90210

(A little housekeeping note: This is the first of a couple of regular features I'll be implementing on the site over the coming days in an effort to increase the frequency of my posts. "About Last Night"—in which I'll briefly address the six or seven hours of TV I watched the previous evening—will appear a few times a week, barring any unforeseen circumstances, like a natural disaster or a shoe sale at Nine West or, more likely, a sudden, debilitating bout of laziness.)

Tuesday, May 4, 2010
8:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
90210, "Meet the Parent"

I was a big fan of the original Beverly Hills, 90210—I've seen every episode of every season multiple times—so I had high hopes for this reboot when it premiered back in 2008. The show had a rocky first year trying to find its footing, but it came back last fall younger, hotter, and just a little trashier—exactly the way a teen soap should be. Last night's episode wasn't especially scandalous, but it did set the scene for some potentially awesome trouble down the line. You can find detailed recaps elsewhere, so I'm just going to post a few thoughts I had while watching. (Consider this your spoiler alert.)

1) Is anyone else bored by Teddy and Silver together? I like them both as individuals, but they're far too stable as a couple. There was maybe a minute and a half last night in which Teddy considered taking his father's advice and giving up his relationship with Silver to focus on his burgeoning tennis career—also, what?—but then Jessica Stroup rode up on her little Vespa, and he couldn't wait 30 seconds to tell her he was in love with her. Yawn. Where's the drama, writers? I like my teen romance with a healthy dose of angst and inner conflict.

2) I think Adrianna might be my favorite character on the show, though I honestly couldn't tell you why. Maybe it's because Jessica Lowndes is just so ridiculously pretty? Or because she sings, and I...like music? I don't know. In any case, I'm excited to see where this whole Latin pop-star flirtation is going. Her duet with Javier last night didn't knock my socks off—it sounded vaguely like something you'd hear in a made-for-TV Disney movie—but that doesn't mean they don't have potential as a pair outside the studio. (As an aside, how great was Adrianna's rendition of Dolly Parton's "Jolene" a few weeks ago? I love Dolly's twangy original as much as the next girl, but Jessica Lowndes' melancholic acapella rendering made me listen to the song in a completely different way.)

3) Can someone—maybe a guy—tell me what Liam sees in Naomi? She's snobby, shallow, and beyond oblivious to anything that doesn't directly concern her. I don't necessarily want to see him with Annie in the long run, but anyone would be better than Naomi at this point. She's, like, not even a real person right now. I do love AnnaLynne McCord's camptastic theatrics, though. So appropriate.

4) The Powers That Be really need to put Rob Estes and Aunt Becky out of their misery. That failed-marriage subplot is a waste of screen time and talent. No one watches the CW for the grown-ups.

5) Jen is totally crazy. It's amazing. I can't wait to see what she does next. I hope—for the sake of the show, mostly, but also because Naomi is really getting on my nerves—that's it's something truly outrageous. There are only two episodes left this season—you better bring it, writers.

Parenthood: It's Not You, It's Me

My aunt, who is way cooler than I could ever even hope to be and whose witty, wonderful blog inspired me to start this half-baked experiment in writing, recently posted an entry on her site about her new favorite TV show, a show I've been meaning to cover myself, per her request (via the only comment on here that isn't from my mother). The series in question is Parenthood, a one-hour NBC drama based on the 1989 Ron Howard film of the same name. It stars Lauren Graham (a.k.a. Lorelai Gilmore) as a 30-something single mother who moves herself and her two kids back into her parents' house in Berkeley, Calif., to be closer to the rest of her family. Peter Krause plays Graham's older, oh-so-dependable brother; Erika Christensen co-stars as her younger, type-A attorney sister; Dax Shepherd is her immature but endearing little bro; and Craig T. Nelson and Bonnie Bedelia hold the brood together (just barely) as the patriarch and matriarch of the Braverman bunch. All four Braverman offspring have their own kids and their own family dramas, but the heart of the show—and it has plenty of heart—is in their collective struggle to do right by themselves, their children, and each other.

I put the series on my (imaginary) schedule the second I heard that Lauren Graham would be taking over for Maura Tierney (who, sadly, had to bow out due to health reasons). Graham, in my opinion, is one of the most watchable actresses on television today. And she's excellent as Sarah Braverman. The whole cast is pretty fantastic, actually. I like everyone in it, including Shepherd, who I previously knew only as "that dude from Punk'd who also appeared in a really awful movie with Jessica Simpson and is inexplicably engaged to Veronica Mars." He's sweet—even, dare I say, tender—as slacker-turned-doting-dad Crosby. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's working with some truly great writing. The dialogue on the show is smart, warm, and believable. So why haven't I pledged my eternal, undying devotion yet?

It's complicated.

The way I feel about Parenthood is the way I felt about the last guy I dated. It's an old story: On paper, this guy was perfect. He was intelligent, sweet, cute, funny, charming, stable but not boring, attentive but not clingy—basically everything I thought I wanted. But for reasons I have yet to figure out—and maybe never will—I just wasn't that into him. I enjoyed our time together, but I didn't think about him when I wasn't with him, and when I was with him, I felt strangely removed from him, like whatever was happening between us had nothing to do with me.

Parenthood is the TV equivalent of that guy for me. It has all the makings of a great show—Lauren Graham! Peter Krause! That dude from Punk'd! A really cute love child! Great writing! Family dysfunction!—but the chemistry (yeah, chemistry*) just isn't there between us. I should love it—I want to love it—but right now, I mostly just like it as a friend. I often forget it even exists until it pops up on Hulu, and though I continue to watch it on my computer almost every week, I'm not really invested in it. I'm not, for lack of a better word, committed to it. And, I hate to sound like a tramp, but I could probably be tempted away from it pretty easily by a younger, hotter show with better clothes and a flashier reputation. (I like my TV like I like my men—with a pretty face and a little bit of mystery, à la Mad Men or Chuck.)

The problem, I think, is an all-too-common one in relationships: timing. I mean, for starters, there's the age difference. I'm not old enough to relate to Lauren Graham's character, but I'm too old to have anything in common with her teenage daughter. And while Peter Krause is certainly nice to look at, he's not exactly the tall, dark, and handsome stuff of fantasies—unless said fantasies involve a house in the suburbs and a regular spot in the carpool rotation. (Mine don't.) Despite what my poor health, crochety attitude, and feeble social calendar might imply, I'm only 25 years old—what I want at this point in my life is fun, excitement, freedom. I'm not looking to settle down now or (sorry, Dad) maybe ever. And that, I suppose, is the real issue. Parenthood is a great show. But it's not the kind of show you go to for a quick thrill or a brief fling. Parenthood is the show you take home to, well, your parents. It's about substance, not style; love, not lust. It demands a second glance, a deeper look. To steal an expression from one of my favorite guilty pleasures, it's a "someday" series. As in, "someday, when I'm older and wiser and all my friends have coupled up and my only companion is my 60-inch 3-D/HD flat-screen TV, I'm going to want a series like this to come home to." At that point, 20 or 40 years from now, Parenthood (the show, not the lifestyle) may very well be my perfect match. But at the moment, I'm just too emotionally barren to give it the kind of love it needs—nay, deserves. It's not the show, it's me. We want different things. And, you know, I really need to focus on my career right now. If it's meant to be, it'll happen eventually. And if not, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.

I do hope we can still be friends, though.


*Guys and Dolls, anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

More Chuck Love

He sings, too? Le sigh. Zachary Levi, you may just be my undoing.

Katharine McPhee's duet with 'Chuck' star Zachary Levi: An EW exclusive stream

Update:

There's a video!

Get My Brother on Glee!

As I've mentioned before on this blog, I used to be in show choir. My high school experience was a real-life version of Glee, complete with cheesetastic dance routines, peppy pop songs, melodramatic showmances, and ruthless group politics. I was a far cry from Lea Michele's Rachel Berry, though—I didn't have her voice, drive, or confidence. (I did have an impossible crush on one of the cumberbund-clad boys in the group, but that's a post for another day. Like, the one that comes after never.) Brighter Side, for me, was just something to do that wasn't sports—a way to make friends and have fun, not a vehicle for stardom. I loved being in the group, but I'm much more comfortable in the audience than I ever was onstage. My little brother, on the other hand, is a born performer. So much so that even though he's four years younger than I am and we were never at the same school at the same time, I somehow spent much of my "theater career" in his shadow anyway. Everyone knew and loved Scott. At district-wide concerts, for example, revered upperclassmen fawned over him as if he were a celebrity, and in the days after, my own teachers approached me in class to tell me "what a joy it was to watch Scotty onstage." (To be fair, they usually made sure to throw a compliment my way, too, but in my angsty adolescent mind, it sounded like, "You were good, but your brother was great!")

At the time, I resented my brother for always stealing the spotlight. I didn't want it, but I did want to make some kind of a name for myself—and "Scott's sister" wasn't it. Only after I moved to New York and got my own life was I able to appreciate just how talented he really is. The first time I saw him in a starring role, as J. Pierrepont Finch in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, I cried. I barely even recognized the boy onstage—he was nimble, funny, self-assured, and completely mesmerizing. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. I've never been a big believer in destiny, but watching him that night, I had the sense that he was exactly where he was meant to be, doing exactly what he was meant to do.

After that, I flew home as often as I could to see him perform. I've logged countless miles traveling between JFK and LAX (thanks, Dad!), sometimes arriving the day of a show and then leaving the very next morning. It's exhausting, but every production—from Beauty and the Beast and Damn Yankees to Hamlet and Waiting for Godot—has been more than worth the 12-hour round-trip and recurring jet lag. I know I'm biased, but I honestly think Scott gets better each time I see him. And I'm not his only fan (though I would argue that I'm his biggest). Complete strangers seek him out after every performance to offer well-deserved praise, and industry insiders have repeatedly encouraged him to pursue his dream. Just last month, he was signed by a commercial agent, and last week, he was accepted into SpringboardNYC, an audition-only boot camp for college students looking to break into the business. He's been lucky, sure, but it's not luck that got him this far. It's talent, passion, hard work, and perseverance. It's faith. Strength of character. Courage.

I've never told my brother this, but I really look up to him. He's not only one of the most gifted people I know—he's also one of the bravest. In life or onstage, he goes all in, all the time. To be honest, I'm still a little jealous of him for that. But mostly I'm proud. And today I consider it an honor to hold the title of "Scott's sister."

So, without further ado, I present to you his Glee audition videos from MySpace. For those of you who don't know, the producers of Glee are holding an open casting call on the site to fill some of the new roles they're developing for Season 2. Wannabe Gleeks can throw their hats in the ring by submitting a song, along with a monologue explaining why they want to be on the show. My brother's entries, unsurprisingly, are awesome. Watch them below, and then go to myspace.com/gleeauditions to give him a gold star (or 20, if you're feeling generous). His personalized link doesn't work, but if you search for "Takeda," he's the only Scott listed. Let's get this guy on Glee!

Glee monologue

Glee | MySpace Video

Glee song

Glee | MySpace Video

TV New York vs. My New York

I moved to New York in 2002, at the height of the Carrie Bradshaw era. Sex and the City was in its fifth season, and everyone and their mothers—including me and mine—had been following Carrie and Co. all over Manhattan for the better part of four years, spellbound as much by her wild outfits as by her romantic trials and triumphs. I watched Carrie's exploits that year on a little TV in my dorm room, mere blocks from where she and her friends (Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda, for the uninitiated few of you who've been in comas for the last 10 years) lived out every budding fashionista's fiercest fantasies, complete with cosmos, Manolos, and a seemingly endless parade of eligible bachelors. Geographically, Carrie and I were practically neighbors. But in every other respect, we occupied different worlds entirely. Still, the show gave New York an even higher profile than it had before, and anytime I went back to California for a visit, I'd invariably run into someone from my high school who'd excitedly inquire about my new life in the Big Apple, no doubt expecting cable-worthy stories of late nights at velvet-roped clubs and electric encounters with handsome strangers. I hated to shatter their illusions (of both the city and my social life), but my New York was—is—nothing like that.

My New York is whiskey, straight-up, not something pink and fruity in a martini glass. It's a flowershop/bar in Brooklyn where you can buy a beer and a bouquet for 10 bucks, then head downstairs to the basement for a little jazz played to bearded hipster types on wooden benches. It's the view from the Q train on the Manhattan Bridge. A pale-blue Victorian house on a tree-lined street in a quiet neighborhood. An all-night diner where the waitress calls you "honey" and the TV is always set to Seinfeld reruns or TBS's movie and a makeover. The New York Philharmonic in Central Park. A superhero supply store that sells capes and cans of immortality. Rush hour on the 4/5 to Grand Central.  A table for eight at Dinosaur BBQ. Kayaking on the Hudson. Sunbathing on the Great Lawn.

I'm not generally a stickler for realism—as evidenced both by my affection for shows like Lost and Chuck and by, well, everything I've written thus far on my blog—but I feel the need to set the record straight regarding a few things about this much-fabled city I call home. Sit back, readers: I'm about to lay some truth on you.

TV NY: Anyone can afford a really awesome apartment in a nice Manhattan neighborhood—even people who spend all their time in coffeehouses and regularly throw down hundreds of dollars for shoes. (See: Friends, Sex and the City)
MY NY: Remember Monica and Rachel's (and, later, Monica and Chandler's) super-huge Greenwich Village two-bedroom flat on Friends? It's the Sasquatch of Manhattan real estate. As in: It doesn't exist. And even if it does, no one on that show—except maybe Joey during that month he was rolling in Days of Our Lives dollars—could have paid the rent on it. I mean, did any of them acually work? I know they had "jobs," but I swear they spent, like, 12 hours a day at Central Perk. In my New York, people have to at least pretend to earn their paychecks. And don't even get me started on Carrie Bradshaw's pretty little Upper East Side abode—no once-a-week newspaper columnist could afford that place (even it is rent-controlled) while also trotting around town in a new pair of $500 stilettos every week, dressing head-to-toe in labels, and frequenting all the hottest clubs and restaurants night after night. This city is expensive. It's worth it, but it's expensive. And if you want to live in something bigger than a bathroom and still have a swanky Manhattan address, it's going to cost you a lot of money, a couple of limbs, and, depending on the neighborhood, maybe your first-born son, too. Trust me—I've looked.

TV NY: Brooklyn is where dreams go to die. And Queens is where they're buried. (See: Sex and the City, Ugly Betty, Gossip Girl)
MY NY: Contrary to popular belief, "New York City" does not refer just to Manhattan. There are five—as in, the number of fingers on your hand or the number of people who read my blog (hi, guys!)—boroughs under the NYC umbrella, and they're all unique and great and important in different ways. Brooklyn, my home for the last three years, is not Dante's Seventh Circle of Hell, as SATC's Miranda or GG's Blair might have you believe. It's actually quite lovely. We have houses. And yards. And Target. And though I haven't spent much time in Queens, I have enjoyed the little I've seen of it (meaning the two blocks between the subway and the Astoria beer garden). I love the steady buzz of life in Manhattan, but I also love being able to walk away from it every once in a while. The outer boroughs are great for that. And there are far fewer tourists blocking the sidewalks.

TV NY: All women are either high-powered man-eaters who care only about getting ahead (see: Sex and the City, Cashmere Mafia, Ugly Betty) or Park Avenue princesses who care only about getting a husband (see: Sex and the City, Gossip Girl).
MY NY: Um, some of us are entry-level man-eaters, thank you very much.

TV NY: Magazine editors are prime targets for scandal-hungry gossip columnists and rabid paparazzi. (See: Ugly Betty, Cashmere Mafia, Lipstick Jungle)
MY NY: The sad truth is that the only people who care about print journalism are the people (like me) who have or want a job in print journalism. Vogue EIC Anna Wintour is moderately intriguing to some of the general public, thanks mostly to The Devil Wears Prada and The September Issue, but not even she generates the kind of feverish buzz that surrounds Betty's Wilhelmina or Jungle's Nico. When editors and the like do pop up on TV or in print, it's usually because they're promoting something, not because they've been spotted canoodling with a younger man (Nico) or because they were shot by the illegitimate son of their dead lover's ex-wife (Willi). And there's certainly no juicy TMZ-like cable show devoted to exposing industry goings-on (à la Fashion Buzz with Suzuki St. Pierre)—if there were, I doubt it would be must-see TV for even die-hard tabloid junkies. Oh, and on a related note, no one cares who or what the rich private-school kids on the Upper East Side are doing on a day-to-day basis. I'm looking at you, Gossip Girl. You know you love me. XOXO

Fictional Characters I Would Date, Part 2

See Part 1 for a housekeeping note regarding this post.

Captain Malcolm "Mal" Reynolds, Firefly
Truth? My reasons for including Mal on this list have less to do with the actual character than with the actor playing the character. Don't get me wrong—I like Mal. But I adore Nathan Fillion. He's got charisma and je ne sais quoi in spades. And the Captain is by far my favorite of his onscreen alter egos—Mal is brave, loyal, resilient, steadfast in his beliefs, and straight-forward about everything except his emotions, which is ideal for a commitment-phobe like myself. My only concern is the fact that he and his crew seem to find themselves in life-threatening situations pretty much wherever they go. But, you know, other than that, he's great.

Uncle Jesse, Full House
That hair, those eyes, this video...


Cappie, Greek
Cappie is Peter Pan, Van Wilder, and Zack Morris all rolled into one. He needs a baby-sitter, not a girlfriend. And yet...there's something about him that's just kind of irresistible. He reminds me a little of this guy I know/adore. (You know who you are.)

Pacey Witter, Dawson's Creek
Long before Edward and Jacob battled it out for Bella's affections in Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series, another rivalry divided the angsty adolescent masses in two. Leading the charge on one side was Dawson Leery, a self-proclaimed eternal optimist who fell for his longtime best friend, Josephine "Joey" Potter. His competitor in the quest for her heart was notorious screw-up Pacey Witter. It should have been an easy fight. But Pacey pulled off one of the greatest upsets in love-triangle history. For the record, though, I was always in his corner. I liked him even in Season 1, when he was fooling around with his English teacher and making a mess of everyone's lives. He's just so...charming, you know?

Dylan McKay, Beverly Hills, 90210
Dylan has a lot of strikes against him—alcoholism, drug addiction, a brief obsession with guns, a prostitute half-sister, a murdered wife whose mobster family ordered a hit on his embezzling ex-con father—but he's the kind of player who always comes through in a clutch. And in spite of all the bad in his life, he has more good in him than a lot of real people I know. Plus, that James Dean, rebel-without-a-cause thing he's got going on is, like, absurdly attractive.

Seth Cohen, The OC
Seth is the perfect combination of geek and chic. He likes anime and video games, has a plastic horse named Captain Oats, and watches IMAX nature films—but he also reads Kerouac, listens to indie music, and has his own comic book. (Some might file that last item under the "geek" column, but I think it's kind of awesome.) Plus, he's not cool enough to run game on a girl, but he's also not so socially inept that he can't carry on a decent conversation while, say, waiting in line for Death Cab tickets. Win.

Kirby Atwood, Lipstick Jungle
Robert Buckley is hot. Ergo, Kirby Atwood is hot. I don't usually start relationships based solely on physical attraction—I don't usually start relationships at all, actually—but I'd make an exception (on both counts) in this case.


Still to come: Fictional Characters I Would Date in Real Life, Parts 3 and On (it's an embarrassingly long list), plus A Few I Wouldn't Touch With a 10-Foot Pole

Tuned In: Starship

When I think about my childhood—which I do with increasing frequency every year, as it gets further and further away—I don't think about the big stuff. I don't think about birthday parties or first days of school or piano recitals or even family vacations to Disney World. I think about bubble baths in my grandmother's pink tub on Easter. The Mary Engelbreit dress my mom made for my fourth-grade book parade, the calculator I broke on a trip to Fedco. MorningStar sausage links for breakfast. Grilled-cheese sandwiches served on a purple plastic tray for lunch. White bows with puffy-painted Disney characters. Construction paper and crayons in my grandfather's study. The Cabbage Patch Kid I "made over" with colored sharpies.

I think about putting on rollerblading shows in my backyard and making my family buy tickets to see me perform. About going to work with my mom at six o'clock in the morning, eating hot dogs and chocolate malts at Dodgers games with my dad, reading books by flashlight after they'd both tucked me into bed at night. Dressing up in old Halloween costumes and using my hallway as a runway. Pretending to be a spy and taking notes on my little brother's daily activities. (Sample entry: "Scott is playing swords by himself. He looks dumb. Hahahahaha.")

Anytime I feel too old for my 25 years, which, lately, is often, those are the things, the moments, the memories, that I always come back to in my mind. Those, and this: sitting in the backseat of my mom's Mazda minivan on a road trip to Tahoe, windows rolled down, stereo turned up, the whole family singing along—yelling, really—to "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now." We must have played it three or four times in a row, my dad and brother taking over Mickey Thomas' part and my mom and I standing in for Grace Slick, our voices growing louder and more off-key with each encore. As a teenager, I was typically averse to so blatant a display of bonding, but for those few minutes, my self-consciousness evaporated and I existed only to sing that song. Such is the undefinable, undeniable magic of Starship.

Three nights ago, while watching the CW's Life Unexpected, I was reminded of that magic in a scene almost straight out of my childhood.

For those who've never seen it (which, based on the ratings, is most of you), here's a little background about the show: Life Unexpected is about Lux, a 16-year-old foster kid who tracks down her birth parents so she can get emancipated and instead ends up in their temporary joint custody. Cate, the mother, is a radio talk-show host in Portland who got pregnant in high school after a one-night stand with Baze, now the owner of a local bar. She's engaged to her co-host, Ryan. Each week, the four of them struggle to define their new, über-dysfunctional family, with varying degrees of success.

This week's obstacle on the road to domestic bliss was a family trip to find Cate's estranged father to invite him to her fast-approaching nuptials. Ryan, ever the faithful and doting fiancé, stayed behind to take care of last-minute wedding preparations, so Lux and Baze went along with Cate for moral support. It was their first big trip as a threesome. And it was basically a disaster. Cate and Baze fought, Baze and Lux fought, Cate and her epic failure of a dad fought—the high point of the whole thing was a brief detour to get corn dogs, and corn dogs should not be the high point of anything, in my opinion.

Enter, Starship.

When Baze turned up "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" on the drive home, I knew everything was going to be OK. Cate resisted at first, but her bad mood proved no match for the vocal stylings of Thomas and Slick. Soon enough, she, Baze, and Lux were belting out the lyrics in pseudo-harmony and waving their arms around in faux dramatic fashion.

Just like a real family.


Artist: Starship
Heard on: Life Unexpected
Sounds like: the '80s, duh
Listen to: "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now," "We Built This City" (No. 1 on VH1's list of the 40 Most Awesomely Bad Songs...Ever)

Test Your TV Trivia | Parade.com #5

Last Wednesday, I attended a fabulous New York party—the kind of party to which, as a kid growing up in a small town in Southern California (hi, Temple City!), I used to dream I would someday be invited. Stylish Manhattanites milled around me air-kissing over martinis, while professional photographers stood near the entrance waiting to capture shots of Dan Rather and Chuck Close. Delicate appetizers were passed through the crowd on trays carried by formally attired waiters. Champagne glasses clinked together in every corner. And all I could think about was getting home in time to see (spoiler alert) Phil's birthday on Modern Family and Gio's return to Ugly Betty. Thank goodness for Hulu. If I had had to choose between the party and TV, I might have missed out on almost spilling my drink on Parker Posey.

In addition to Modern Family and Ugly Betty, this week's quiz features questions on Dancing With the Stars, Grey's Anatomy, Fringe, Chuck, Bones, and more. If you'd like to see your favorite program in a future quiz, comment below and tune in next week to see if it made the cut. Until then, happy channel surfing!

Test Your TV Trivia | Parade.com

Hopelessly Devoted: One Tree Hill

I have never in my life walked out of a theater in the middle of a movie I didn't like. Nor have I ever stopped reading 80 pages into a bad book or turned off a baseball game in the seventh inning when my favorite team was down 18 to 2. I'm a glutton for punishment, I suppose. Or maybe I'm just an optimist.

Readers who know me even a little would almost certainly disagree with that last statement—I'm pretty sure I heard my parents guffaw incredulously 3000 miles away—and, for the most part, they'd be right to. In spite of all my best efforts to look on the bright side or see the silver lining or do something else equally clichéd and cloying, I somehow inevitably manage to find and fixate only on the bad stuff. Except, oddly, when it comes to entertainment.

For the record, it's not that I don't recognize when a film is terrible or someone's writing is crummy or a defeat is imminent. I do. I just can't help hoping that things will take a turn for the better—that a surprise ending will redeem an otherwise subpar cinematic/literary experience or that my beloved boys in blue (go, Dodgers!) will come from behind and not break my spirit for the millionth time since I first pledged allegiance to them 17 years ago. Sometimes—as in the case of Identity, the 2003 John Cusack vehicle that started out as a third-rate horror flick but ultimately evolved into a not-awful psychological thriller—my dedication to a cause pays off. And other times—like with Game 5 of the 2009 National League Championship Series between Los Angeles and Philadelphia—I wind up in the fetal position on my floor, wailing to no one in particular about how CLOSE we were to a Yankees-Dodgers World Series and how, OH, MY DAD, we let the Phillies beat us for the league title TWO YEARS IN A ROW and NO WONDER I'm incapable of maintaining a healthy relationship—MY HEART IS HARDENED FROM YEARS OF CRUSHING DISAPPOINTMENTS JUST. LIKE. THIS ONE.

More often than not, unfortunately, the outcome is a letdown. You'd think I'd have learned by now to cut my losses early and invest only in things that are actually good (rather than things I'm hoping will eventually be good), but I haven't. I'm stupidly, irrationally committed to seeing stuff through—especially when it comes to TV. I very, very rarely abandon a show halfway through the series, even after it has jumped the shark or gone the way of the dodo or fallen victim to some other animal-related metaphor.

Aside from needing to vent about the NLCS debacle, I bring this up because it explains, to some degree, why I watch One Tree Hill.

If you've never seen the show, you can't possibly know how significant it is that I continue to devote an hour of my life to it on a regular basis. And I'm not really sure if I can put it into words. This is a series that (spoiler alert) has had not one but two certifiable psychopaths. (Maybe three, if you consider recent promos featuring Amanda Schull's character, a tennis protegé who sets her sights on Nathan's sports agent and—shocker—just happens to be a dead ringer, no pun intended, for the guy's late wife.) The first lunatic, in Season 4, was a scary-obsessed stalker who pretended to be Peyton's long-lost half-brother, Derek, in order to get close to her—and who later locked her and her best friend in the basement during prom and tried to kill them both. The second, in Seasons 5 and 6, was Jamie's nanny Carrie, who abducted little Jamie at a wedding, held his dying grandfather hostage in some random cottage in the middle of nowhere, then chased Jamie and his 22-year-old mom through a cornfield while wielding an axe. A cornfield. I kid you not. Oh, and let's not forget the gang's "regular" villain, Dan Scott, who impregnated two women within a few months of each other, blackmailed his wife into postponing their divorce while he ran for mayor, paid another woman to make his brother fall in love with her, killed said brother in cold blood, and then used his crime to make money as an allegedly reformed motivational speaker. (Those, by the way, are just the highlights. Dan's crazy runs deep. So does the show's. In one of the most ridiculous moments ever in the history of television, a dog actually ate Dan's heart—or, rather, the heart he was supposed to get in a transplant. It was cramazing. I laughed for, like, 10 minutes straight. And then I realized it was intended to be dramatic, not funny.)

Anyway, the point is: One Tree Hill is totally absurd. I could list more examples to prove it (and I may, in a future post), but for now, I'll just leave it at that.

So, why do I continue to watch it? The short answer is that I can't not, for the reasons I explained earlier. I've been with the show since the very beginning—my roommates and I watched it together in college—and I'll no doubt be with it until the very end, too. It's just my nature. But also: It's one of those things, like The Room or any movie ever on Lifetime, that's so terrible it actually comes back around to being awesome. I make fun of it (and myself, for watching it), but I seriously kind of love it. How could I not? I mean, a dog ate Dan's heart. (I will likely repeat that at least twice every time I mention the show on this blog. It's that excellent.)

Sources say chances for an eighth season of One Tree Hill are about 50/50, and as much as I cherish the show's crazy every week, I'm honestly not sure which way I want it to go at this point. Part of me hopes it gets renewed so I can postpone the almost certain letdown of its ending and spend another delicious year in senseless soapy denial, but another part knows that every episode I watch now is an hour of my life I'll miss later, when I'm curled up on the floor crying about how I gave the series the best years of my life and FOR WHAT—a few laughs, a psycho nanny in a cornfield, an organ-eating pooch, Stuart Minkus' return to television, and a frequently shirtless Robert Buckley?

Actually, that doesn't sound like such a bad deal. Carry on, Mark Schwahn.

Spotted: Betty Suarez

My dad loves celebrity sightings. He's constantly on the lookout for familiar faces: actors, musicians, athletes, politicians, random rich people, etc. When we're out together in a city that has a high star-to-civilian ratio—like New York, where I live, or Malibu, where my not-so-little little brother lives—he inevitably spots someone he thinks he recognizes. And three out of five times I get off the plane in Los Angeles, he'll greet me with a hug, a hello, and a "Did you know *insert less-than-moderately well-known celebrity name here* was on your flight?" Usually it's an anchor from a local news show. Once, it was Charo. (Cuchi, cuchi!)

I've inherited a lot of my dad's quirks and habits—our shared stubbornness, in particular, drives the rest of my family crazy—but I've yet to develop his uncanny radar for famous people. One would think, based on my affinity for Us Weekly and my excessive TV viewing, that I'd be able to sense a star and his entourage from miles away. For the most part, though, I'm totally oblivious. I once walked alongside Freddie Prinze Jr. for 18 blocks before registering who he was. And that was back in the day when he was still a semi-regular fixture in all the cheesy rom-coms I hated to love or loved to hate or maybe just kind of hated, period. When I do recognize someone, I tend to think I know them from school or work or through mutual friends. I was convinced, for example, that I went to school with this guy I saw hanging out in Cobble Hill—to the point where I almost went up and asked him if he had taken metaphysics at Columbia with Professor Collins. It was only a week later, during an episode of 30 Rock, that I realized the guy in question was Jonathan, Jack Donaghy's hilariously overenthusiastic assistant.

My dad must be rubbing off on me slowly though, because a couple of weeks ago, I had a breakthrough. America Ferrera, a.k.a. Ugly Betty's Betty, was on my flight from New York to L.A.—and I knew who she was almost immediately. It probably helped that I had seen her on TV less than 24 hours earlier, but considering she looks nothing like her character in real life, I'm going to file this confidently under progress.

Every journalist who has ever profiled Ferrera has invariably remarked on her stunning, very un-Betty-like beauty. And she is, in fact, totally gorgeous. I wasn't surprised by that. I was surprised, however, by how genuinely excited I was to see her. I even texted my dad and brother (my dad for obvious reasons, my brother because he always alerts me of his frequent celebrity run-ins) to tell them we were sharing a plane.

Ugly Betty isn't officially one of My Top 10 Favorite (Scripted) Shows Still in Production, but it probably deserves to be. I enjoy it as much as I enjoy any of the other series on that list, and I actively look forward to each new episode. Plus, I see a little of myself in Betty. It feels like we've kind of led parallel lives these last few years, so I think of her as something of a kindred spirit. When I started my job—as an assistant at a national magazine, just like her—I was naïve, idealistic, inexperienced but eager to please, slightly awkward, and disproportionately excited about everything. I was basically Betty circa Season 1, minus the hideous poncho and braces (though I did wear a lovely metal grill for six years in high school and college). Now, after some time (and more than a few near missteps), we've both grown up and into new positions. Of course, my journey hasn't been quite as...colorful as hers—nobody at my office is a Wilhelmina-type, for one, and (spoiler alert) I've never helped a colleague kidnap the baby she bore as part of the editor-in-chief's evil plan to take over the company—but I'd like to think Betty and I would be allies at Mode. If, you know, she were real and not just a figment of someone else's imagination.

Yeah, I need to get out more.

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com #4

There are few things I appreciate more at the end of a really long day than coming home, kicking off my four-inch heels, and settling in for a night of TV with my roommates, our dog Bella, and some no-fuss Chinese takeout. This week was nothing but long days, so being able to relax at night felt even better—especially since almost everything I watched was really, really good.

Every show has an occasional throwaway episode, but I think my favorite series did pretty well across the board this time. (Spoiler alert if you're behind at all.) Chuck officially became a real spy, Jacob answered some big questions about the Island on Lost, Betty got her braces off, and American Idol finalized its summer tour lineup. All that—plus Dancing With the Stars, Law & Order: SVU, FlashForward, and more—is in this week's quiz. Get to it, faithful viewers! And, as always, thanks for tuning in. 

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com

Calling All Browncoats

Commence geeking out...now.

Patton Oswalt talks about his 'Firefly' comic book

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com #3

In my mind, there are four main categories of TV watchers: the loyalists, who defend their favorite shows to the death (even after a series has jumped the shark); the fair-weather fans, who watch when things are good but bail when they're not; the discerning devotees, who watch only a few select shows; and the everything enthusiasts, who watch, well, everything. I'm in the first and fourth categories, which is great for the purposes of this quiz but problematic in terms of scheduling. I love so many shows, but they all overlap, and I refuse to give even one of them up. Do any of you have that problem? Or do I just watch too much TV? (Don't answer that.)

This week's quiz features some favorites I've mentioned before—Lost, Ugly Betty, etc.—as well as a couple of previously uncovered series—Mercy, House, and, per the request PARADE reader pbs fan, Antiques Roadshow. Thanks again to all of you who tuned in last week, and please keep coming back and commenting. I'm having a lot of fun writing this quiz every week—I hope you guys are having fun taking it, too.

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com #2

Thanks to everyone who tuned in to last week's edition of the Primetime Pop Quiz! I want you all to know that I'm taking this job very seriously—I've spent much of the past seven days curled up on the couch watching TV, even using Hulu during commercial breaks to catch up on missed episodes. It's a tough job, let me tell you. But I am honored to be doing it.

Last week was a great week for television. (Insert spoiler alert here.) Monday's episode of Chuck was among the season's best, Tuesday's Lost brought the redemption of Benjamin Linus, Wednesday gave us closure on the Ugly Betty house fire, and Thursday yielded American Idol's Final Top 12. Plus: Gossip Girl and 30 Rock came back from hiatus, Jennifer Lopez made an appearance on How I Met Your Mother, and the NCIS team solved a case of double identity. All that—and more—is covered in this week's quiz. Click through to take it and pass it on. And if you don't see your favorite shows this week, leave a comment and come back next week to see if they made the cut.

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com

Tuned In: Sanders Bohlke

I, like many of you reading this right now, love music. A lot. To the nth degree and then some. I'm the kind of person who creates a soundtrack in her head to go along with all the big moments in her life; who wishes the world really were a stage, like Shakespeare said, but for a never-ending musical in which everyone sang their feelings at really inappropriate moments and occasionally danced down the street in cheesy, choreographed togetherness. I never go anywhere without my iPod, and if I'm at home and not watching TV, I'm almost certainly listening to one of my 8 million personalized playlists in iTunes. Or baking. Often both.

I'm pretty pleased with my music library, too. And when I say I like a little bit of everything, I really mean that I like a little bit of everything. My taste runs the gamut from Britney to Bright Eyes, Justice to Jay-Z, Dylan to Disney. (I actually have "Colors of the Wind" on my iPod, right between All-4-One's "Colors of Love" and Ani DiFranco's "Come Away From It," a remnant of my Barnard days.) Only about a third of my music is stuff I've found on my own, though. The other two-thirds came from friends' recommendations or—surprise, surprise—TV. I discovered The Avett Brothers, for example, after hearing "I and Love and You" on a recent episode of One Tree Hill. (Yes, I watch One Tree Hill. We'll revisit that topic in another post.) I opened my ears and heart to Ivy because of Veronica Mars. And I fell in love with Ryan Adams watching Seth and Summer fall in love to his cover of "Wonderwall" on The OC. Gossip Girl gave me The National, Grey's Anatomy gave me Ingrid Michaelson, and now Brothers and Sisters and Private Practice have given me Sanders Bohlke.

I first became aware of Bohlke a few weeks ago, when his song "You" played behind a conversation between Luc and Sarah on Brothers and Sisters. Only snippets of the melody were audible, but what I could hear, I loved. Then, a few nights ago, there he was again, singing "Misdirections" in the final moments of Private Practice. It was beautiful, haunting. I wanted more. So I tracked him down online.

According to his website, Bohlke is a singer/songwriter hailing from northern Mississippi. His first album had a bit of a folk slant, but it seems like his style since then has evolved and spilled into other genres, most notably acoustic rock and soul. If I had to compare him to someone, I'd say he sounds like a cross between Ray LaMontagne and James Morrison, but I think that probably does all three artists a disservice, since each has such an original and distinctive voice. Bohlke's is at once mellow and barely contained—his music is incredibly soothing, but there's a kind of energy and passion to it boiling just beneath the surface. Listening to him feels like walking but being always about to break into a sprint.

If you're interested, you can find a few of Bohlke's songs on his MySpace page. "You," unfortunately, is not available, but "Misdirections" is there, as is "The Weight of Us," which has apparently been featured on Grey's Anatomy, One Life to Live, and Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Clearly, someone at ABC is a fan. And now so am I.


Artist: Sanders Bohlke
Heard on: Brothers and Sisters, Private Practice
Sounds like: Ray LaMontagne, James Morrison
Listen to: "Misdirections," "The Weight of Us," "Somewhere"

Breakfast in Bed: Teen Soaps

It's a cold and rainy Saturday here in Brooklyn. The view from my second-story window looks like a ruined watercolor, blurry from the downpour and gray all over. I'll have to brave it eventually, but for the moment, I'm staying warm and dry on my living-room futon. Bella, my roommate's too-cute-for-words golden Lab retriever, is curled up on the floor by my feet. I've got coffee, blankets, and Breakfast in Bed. Life is good.

Breakfast in Bed is one of my favorite ways to whittle away lazy weekend mornings. And sometimes—depending on the weather, my mood, and how hermit-like I'm feeling—lazy weekend afternoons, too. It's 11 hours and four courses of delicious self-indulgence. And none of it has any fat, sugar, or calories.

Wait, what? Where does one find this alleged phenomenon?

Believe it or not, dear readers: SoapNet.

It should be clear by now that I'm not talking about breakfast of the eggs, bacon, or pancakes variety. Which is not to say I don't love that kind of breakfast, too. I just haven't figured out a way to eat it for 11 hours straight without gaining 20 pounds or slipping into an irreversible food coma. (If any of you can solve that problem for me, I'd be eternally grateful.) No, the kind of "breakfast" I'm gorging on is SoapNet's oh-so-brilliant weekly marathon of soapy teen dramas: three hours of The OC, two hours of One Tree Hill, FOUR hours of Beverly Hills, 90210 (I *heart* Dylan McKay), and two hours of Gilmore Girls.

I know what you're thinking. And, no, I don't watch all 11 hours, and, yes, I do have a life. Breakfast in Bed is just what I put on while mentally preparing to paint the town all sorts of red. Right now, for example, I'm enjoying an episode of Beverly Hills, 90210 in which (spoiler alert) David inherits a ton of money from his grandfather and goes on a crazy spending binge in Vegas that ends with him passed out in a hotel room after being robbed by two girls he met on the Strip. (I've seen it before.) And, in a little while, I'll be lapping up lots of lively dialogue and mother-daughter hijinks on Gilmore Girls. But later I'm heading out in the storm to meet my friend Jessie for dinner and drinks at Char No. 4. My real, flesh-and-blood friend Jessie. See? I don't hang out with just fictional people. I'm totally normal.

My Top 10 Favorite (Scripted) Shows Still in Production

It's ridiculous, but picking 10 shows to feature in this list was actually really difficult. Turns out I watch a lot of TV. And though I obviously like everything I watch to some degree, a few shows are dearer to my heart than others. (You may notice that my Guilty Pleasure of the Week, Cougar Town, is not mentioned here. I still stand by what I said about the show before; I just wouldn't necessarily put it on my Must List.) So, here they are—my official Top 10 Favorite (Scripted) Shows Still in Production.

1) Dexter. I never thought I could love a killer, but Dex proved me wrong. He's now among my favorite television characters of all time. And this past season had one of the most compelling story arcs I've seen from any series ever. The writers on this show continually raise the stakes beyond anything I can even imagine.

2-3) Mad Men/Friday Night Lights. Both are so brilliantly acted and superbly written that I can't pick one over the other. I cherish Don Draper and Coach Taylor equally (but for very different reasons).

4) Lost. Lost used to be my No. 1 with a bullet, but somewhere in the middle of Season 3, I started to feel as if I was just always going to be, well, lost. Thankfully, the show found its footing once Lindelof and Cuse negotiated an end date with ABC.

5) 30 Rock. I love Tina Fey. I want to be Tina Fey. And 30 Rock is one of the smartest, funniest half hours on network TV today.

6) Chuck. If you have to ask why, you haven't been reading my blog.

7) Glee. Fun fact of the day: I'm a former show-choir nerd. Back in high school, I was the proud, sequin-wearing, jazz-hands-waving president of the Temple City Brighter Side Singers. Ergo, Glee appeals to my sense of nostalgia. But it's also just kind of awesome. And Jane Lynch is seriously excellent as Sue Sylvester. She deserves a post all her own.

8) How I Met Your Mother. The show seems to have veered from its original premise a bit, but it's still one of the most consistently entertaining comedies on television. Neil Patrick Harris and Jason Segel are pitch-perfect as Barney and Marshall, respectively.

9) The Office. I laugh out loud approximately once every two minutes while watching this show. It's amazing to me that the writers keep finding new ways for Steve Carell's Michael to act hilariously awkward and inappropriate.

10) Bones. I've loved David Boreanaz ever since his Buffy days, when he lived around the corner from my then-pregnant aunt and occasionally made small talk with her about the baby and the weather. But if I hadn't been a fan before, I definitely would have become one after watching Bones. Boreanaz is great as Booth, and the chemistry between him and Emily Deschanel is, for lack of a better word, explosive. The murder cases are generally interesting, too, but they're not why I watch the show.


Five Honorable Mentions (in no particular order)
Greek
Ugly Betty
Gossip Girl
Californication
Modern Family

Fictional Characters I Would Date in Real Life, Part 1

(A little housekeeping note: Since this is a blog about TV, I'm limiting myself to only characters who have appeared on the small screen. Otherwise, this list would be, like, four times longer. Also, in instances where characters might be considered age-inappropriate for my 25-year-old self, please consider said characters people I would have dated when I was younger or would someday date when I'm older.)

Jim Halpert, The Office
Okay, I know he's married now. And I love him and Pam together. But let's pretend for the purposes of this list that he's single. (I'm already suspending disbelief by treating him as a flesh-and-blood person; taking his made-up wife out of the picture doesn't seem that much more absurd.) Jim is playful, funny, easygoing, and kind. He's just a really nice guy. And sometimes that's enough.

Chuck Bartowski, Chuck
My fondness for Chuck is well-documented on this blog. I think he's adorable. Slightly awkward, but adorable. And I love that he has no game. He's completely charming without even meaning to be. What you see—in terms of personality, at least—is what you get, and what you get is sweet, sincere, and sensitive. Plus, he's had the same best friend since he was 6, so you know he's loyal. And lest he be mistaken for a total softie, there's that whole super secret spy thing he does in his spare time. Hot.

Brendan Dorff, My Boys
This is so clichéd, and I hate to even admit it, but: I'm kind of a sucker for bartenders and baristas. Drummers, too, but that's a problem for another post. Brendan isn't exactly a bartender or a barista, but he does occasionally tend bar at the club he co-owns with his buddy John. Which means, of course: free drinks! And, more importantly, a go-to hangout spot. A place, perhaps, where everybody knows my name. (Isn't that the dream?) I don't love Brando just for his connections, though. I also love him for his taste in music, his eternally youthful energy, and his tight-knit group of friends. I think you can tell a lot about someone by looking at the people with whom he chooses to spend his time. Brendan's pals are a quirky but endearing bunch. And I appreciate the fact that his oldest and best friend is a girl. Plus, he loves baseball, so I'd always have someone to take with me to games.

Justin Walker, Brothers and Sisters
I admit—his history with drug addiction is, um, less than ideal. In his defense, though, he's been clean for a while, and now he's studying to be a doctor. Well, kind of. He may in fact be failing out of medical school—what happened to that story line, writers?—but he's at least trying to do something meaningful with the rest of his life. Honestly, I'm not sure what it is about him that appeals to me. He just seems like he has a good heart. And while I'd obviously prefer that any potential mates not have substance-abuse issues, I think his past has actually made him a stronger and more resilient person.

Tim Riggins, Friday Night Lights
My tortured 16-year-old self would have written notebooks upon notebooks of epically bad poetry about Tim Riggins. I mean, the guy's a football star with a bad-boy streak and a soulful loner vibe—he's pretty much every angsty teenager's dream come true. I never would have stood a chance.

Matt Saracen, Friday Night Lights
With Matt, on the other hand...well, Matt is different. Matt's the guy I would have been friends with for three years while pining over Tim—the guy I would have turned to when Tim showed up at the Panthers team party with Lyla Garrity on his arm. I would have loved him dearly—but I wouldn't have realized I was in love with him until he started dating Julie Taylor. (Adolescent me always wanted what she couldn't have. Not much has changed in that respect, actually.)

Logan Echolls, Veronica Mars
Logan is a hard choice to defend. He can be a colossal jerk when he wants to be—but he can also be incredibly thoughtful and warm. Beneath all the smug, rich-guy bravado beats the heart of a romantic who's just been hurt one too many times. And can anyone really blame him for being so guarded? In three seasons of Veronica Mars (spoiler alert), he lost his girlfriend, his mother, his father, his best friend, and the love of his life. I'd be a little tense, too. High school me would have fallen hard for that angry/wounded act. Everyone wants to save and be saved.


Still to come: Fictional Characters I Would Date in Real Life, Parts 2 and On (it's an embarrassingly long list), plus A Few I Wouldn't Touch With a 10-Foot Pole

Guilty Pleasure of the Week: Cougar Town

I need to preface this post by saying that I hate the term "guilty pleasure." My opinion is: If it's legal and it makes you happy, why should you feel bad about liking it? There are already plenty of things to feel legitimately bad about—the war, the economy, Conan's absence from late-night TV—so when you find something that puts a smile on your face or takes your mind off whatever crisis has dropped into your lap recently, you should embrace it and hold onto it and be glad that it exists. I, for one, will not apologize for reading Us Weekly or owning 52 pairs of shoes or loving cheesy pop music or watching Never Been Kissed every time it's on cable. Those things make my life better. And that's far more important to me than being cool.

That said, I recognize that some indulgences come with a stigma. I may be at peace with my celebrity-gossip obsession, but plenty of people find it superficial and a waste of time. The same, sadly, is true of many of my favorite TV shows. Which is why—even though I feel no guilt over my fondness for "bad" TV—I'm naming Cougar Town my Guilty Pleasure of the Week.

I'm sure at least a couple of my friends/readers will desert me for writing this, but Cougar Town is actually kind of good. I was put off by the title at first—"cougar" is another term I find maddening—but once I got past it, I discovered that the half-hour sitcom is really pretty funny.

If you've never seen it, the series focuses on Jules Cobb, a 40-something divorcée played by Courteney Cox, and her tight-knit but dysfunctional circle of friends and neighbors in the suburban cul-de-sac where she lives. Cox is good, but the show's strength is its ensemble. Christa Miller (Scrubs) plays Jules' sarcastic best friend, Ellie; Busy Phillips (Dawson's Creek) is Jules' feisty 20-something employee, Laurie; Josh Hopkins (Ally McBeal, Swingtown) stars as Jules' womanizing neighbor and potential love interest, Grayson; and Ian Gomez (Felicity), Brian VanHolt, and Dan Byrd play Ellie's husband, Jules' ex, and Jules' son, respectively. As individuals, they're silly and enjoyable; as a group, they're irresistible.

I have to add, also, that it's nice to see Courteney Cox all endearingly neurotic again. I appreciated her wanting to do something different after Friends, but I thought her character on Dirt was kind of awful. She's at her best when she's bubbly, bright-eyed, and just a little batty. Jules does some crazy things, but she does them for good reasons and to great comic effect.

Here's the thing, though: Cougar Town is not for everyone. I guarantee that some of you will hate it and think I'm insane for devoting a full 30 minutes to it every week. (Probably the same some of you who rolled your eyes at my tabloid habit.) And that's okay. Is it the greatest show on television? Not by a long shot. Does it occasionally miss the mark? Absolutely. Are there better ways to spend my time? Sure. But there are also worse ways. Honestly, the half hour or so I spend with C. Cox and friends is one of the most relaxing parts of my week. It's fun, mindless entertainment, and it gets me out of my head for a while, which is rare. I love shows like Lost, Mad Men, and Dexter, but sometimes it's nice to watch TV without holding my breath for the better part of an hour. Judge me if you must—I like Cougar Town, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com #1

They say the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one. So here goes: My name is Allison, and I watch a lot of TV. I'm not entirely convinced this is actually a problem, but my friends—who have seen me through series finale after series finale and sat through many a Say Yes to the Dress marathon with me—might beg to differ.

In any case, it seems my addiction has paid off. Every Monday after today, I'll be recapping the previous week's must-see shows in a short quiz at Parade.com. This week's covers everything from The Bachelor to Lost. (Spoiler alert if you're behind an episode.) Check it out, pass it on, and come back for more next week, when I'll cover Monday's game-changing episode of Chuck, Tuesday's Lost, the return of Gossip Girl and 30 Rock, and more.

Primetime Pop Quiz | Parade.com