Today was the big day. Me and Ellie awoke (she skipped school), showered, hit the salon and headed up to LA for our big Idol experience. Below for your review, are some highlights of the day:
We arrived at CBS studios at 2:15 pm (taping begins at 6:00 pm). Because I'm an idiot, I wore high spiked heels, which is so not fun when you are standing outside of CBS Studios by the dirty bus stop waiting to get into American Idol for 2 1/2 hours. At 4 pm we are shuffled into the lot, only to wait another hour. But before we get inside we are inspected by the Idol profilers and given our "seating assignment." Seating assignment is clearly not "random:" Those who are well dressed, clean and attractive (or a relative of Anoop's) you're in the front. Uglies, groups of guys over the age of 30 and anyone with a ring through their nose or more than 4 tattoos: go directly to the back of the studio.
I was hoping to be in one of the first three rows, but alas the seat lady told us that we'd be in "The Pit". "The Pit" for those of you who don't know, is right up front by the stage by the judges. My first thought is "holy shit" I'm going to be right up front! My next thought is "Crap, that means standing for another 2 hours." By the way, they only select about 75 people or so to be in the pit and they are ALL under the age of 18. I'm not lying when I say I could have been the mother of just about everyone around me - I had a good 20 years on them all.
Taping begins and my daughter and I are literally in the front row, inches from the stage (and the blue couch where the contestants are dealt their fate). But first, the disco number. I can't even remember what they sang, but I can tell you that they started on a platform right in front of me and I had a bird's eye view of Allison, Adam, Matt and Kris's ass cheeks.
Cheesy disco dance number ends and the cast is rushed off stage to change. When they return to the "blue couch" I can literally hear their conversation (I am that close). Next up: some old crazy disco divas in desperate need of Spanx. And then, the highlight of my year: KC (of KC and the Sunshine Band) comes out in all his aging glory and all I can think is "Is it Tony Soprano or KC?" His stomach was stretching his red disco shirt to it's limits, his face lift was tighter than a drum and he was wearing a ridiculous dangly earring in his left ear. When KC finished his little number, I was tempted to shout out, "Hey Tony, better get those slutty dancers back to the Bada Bing before the midnight rush!"
Commercial break. We are told that we aren't "raising our arms" enough during the songs. I'd love to raise my arms but my shirt is so tight that every time my elbows go above my shoulders, the middle three buttons pop open exposing my fleshy middle and C & C Factory-like black bra ("Everybody Dance Now") - so I have to literally clap with my hands no higher than my nose, for fear of a wardrobe malfunction.
Next up, David Archuleta. Personally I am not really a fan of David Archuleta (mainly because I am not a 14 year old girl) but the girls behind me screamed bloody murder and didn't hesitate to vocalize just how "HOT" they thought he was. I guess if a short, pubescent, dorky Mormon boy with the smile of a deranged clown is "Hot", then David fits the bill.
The rest of the show is a blur. I did think that Kris Allen was a cutie pie, so was Danny. Adam seemed less like Bloated Elvis in person, but was wearing a shitload of makeup. Matt seemed a little arrogant (I think he was pissed because the "Pitt" was full of Adam and Kris fans).
When the show ended, I had more adrenaline than a crack addict at a dance contest. My daughter, however acted like she was at a funeral. Her feet were tired, she didn't give a rat's ass about seeing the show up close and personal and she definitely did NOT want to be on camera (she might have been switched at birth, because no daughter of mine would NOT want to be on camera). Unfortunately, camera man #4 disagreed and put us both on camera for a whooping 1.5 seconds during the opening of the show. I know this because Parker took a freeze-frame picture and e-mailed it to me. The result:
I'm the blond with the shiny watch (the one who can't lift her hands above her head) and my daughter is the one who looks like she would rather be anywhere but front row at Idol). I know, I know I broke the "rule" about not having my face on the blog, but what the hell - how many times will I be on camera for 1.5 seconds during the most popular show in America?
As we drove home, I thought to myself that even though my feet felt like I had run the Boston Marathon in hooker pumps, the night couldn't have been better. I was wrong. In the lane next to me was Simon Cowell smoking a cigarette in all his glory, in his cheap, shitty, ugly, brand new black convertible Bentley. As someone who prides myself on keeping my cool whenever I see a celebrity, I did what any normal, 39 -year old demure lady would do. I rolled down my window and my daughter (yes, the shy one) yelled "We love you Simon" while I yelled "Hiiiiiii". Simon flicked his cig, looked over and gave us a dashing smile and said hello. God, if I'd had time I would have asked him for a bottle of Grey Poupon. He came up upon us at the next light and waved and smiled again (he was totally flirting with me) and then we turned left and drove off into the night.