Well, I guess it's been so long since I updated this blog that Blogger managed to eat its entire right column. What a mess. So very sad. (ETA: it took giving it a new, ugly template, but at least the content came back).

But, that's okay, because I've recently set up shop elsewhere: come visit me at my new blog, Ghetto River Nymph. No, reading about life with chronic illness (syringomyelia, Arnold-Chiari malformation, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome) probably isn't quite as much fun, but don't worry: I still manage to talk a lot about tv.

Wow, this Who Wants to be a Super Scout game looks like the worst board game ever. That seller so spent all weekend making this on her computer for her own Girl Scout troop to play, and they were just like, "Yo, Mrs. Kytuba? This game sucks." And then she was all, "Now, now, ladies. Super Scouts don't say 'sucks.'" And so then they were all, "Okay, but your game is Super Stupid and your attempts at alliteration are assine." And then Mrs. Kytuba zipped up her patch jacket, stormed out of the meeting, and tried to buy her dignity back on eBay. But I think maybe I'll bid on it to use as The Punishment Game for camp. When some drama queens in Into the Woods are fighting over who gets the solo in the "Jellicle Cats" opener, I'm gonna make them sit in the Ad Building and play this game till they can go back to the lodge and sing about the damn cats together in unison.

Okay, I confess: I'm obsessed with UPN's new reality trash offering, Top Model. Granted, UPN's recaps are deadly and they should find a new writer--preferably one who knows the difference between lightening and lightning--, but, damn, this show is some good stuff. I am madly in love with Elyse and can't wait to see her battle it out with The High and Mighty Robin next week. I dig Ebony, too. It's all about the E girls, ya know. Gotta represent here.

Why Good Grammar Is Your Friend, reason #697. Tonight, I cooked plantains for the first time. Unsure as to whether I should peel the plantain before or after baking, I consulted the Turbana Plantains website, in which the directions began, "Cut off the ends of the unpeeled plantains and place them on a microwave-safe plate." I read through the entire recipe five times before I finally understood that I was to put the plaintains themselves--and not the ends of the plantains, as the writing suggested--on the plate. I was so very confused, as I couldn't see why I'd want to nuke only the ends of the plantain. But, after I got it all sorted out, I had a very yummy dinner.

Well, what a shock! The California High School Exit Exam has had a predominantly negative impact on students. Who woulda thunk it?

For camp people: this is what all those squirrels do after stealing your stuff.

Now, this, dear Alanis, is irony.

I'm kind of amazed that I scored a 9 out of 10 on this quiz on literary allusions in pop music, especially since I didn't know half of the songs about which they were asking. (And, of course, the one I did get wrong was about a Cure song that I do know).

Whoo hoo, CBS is going to air The Amazing Race 4! And in a much-improved time slot. Of course, I'll end up missing most of it while I'm at camp. But I'm still happy for you, 'cause I'm charitable like that. Seems like there's an awful lot of boys, though, no?

More on Manor House. Best chat moment: when kitchen maid Antonia Dawson goes off on Sir John Olliff-Cooper. And hearing Hall boy Ken Skelton and producer Caroline Ross Pirie talk smack about Sir John is satisfying as well. And the first chat, with lady of the house Anna Olliff-Cooper and butler Hugh Edgar is cool too, because I love me some Edgar. [Thanks, Elyssa]

Damn, I thought my sister's cat was evil. But at least none of her various murder attemptshave ever involved [allegedly] shooting a gun.

Love. The. Government. Or else. According to The Baltimore Sun, a Department of Education 1984 2002 internal memo "[states that] items on www.ed.gov will be deleted unless they meet five criteria, two of which specifically involve support for administration priorities and initiatives and consistency with administration philosophy." [Emphasis mine. Like it matters].

Simon Cowell often shows a surprising lack of knowledge of American pop culture, but he's now officially a pop cultural icon himself: he's gonna be on The Simpsons.

I am so madly in love with PBS's British import, Manor House. There's class wars, there's smack-talking, there's illicit sex, there's whiny drama queens, and there's Edwardian Scotland. All of which make Eliza very, very happy. And, while I am going to cry when it ends tomorrow, at least I can also look forward to the upcoming Warrior Challenge!

And life just keeps getting better and better. Because, next year? I'll have the ever-meta Reality Channel. All Reality. All the time.