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September 13, 2004
Nothing But Death Will Keep Me From It!
I’ve been crying for the past hour because of Oprah.
I’m sure you’ve heard this already. Today, she gave every single person in the audience a whole car. I repeat, every single person got a car. And not just any old Saturn Ion with manual windows and no sun roof with Exorcist-pea-soup–green-vomit paint with a depreciation rate that makes you want to slit your wrists right there on the car lot (that you have to pay taxes on too). A really nice car with automatic everything, a crazy high tech sunroof, a keychain that starts the car and all kinds of other gadgets and she even went the extra mile and put the big bow on the car. The bow on the car? Nobody does that. That’s just for those rich people in those Jaguar Christmas commercials. Oh no, Oprah does not mess around okay. These people didn’t even have to jump out of any buildings, eat any mealworms, cuss out any jackasses. They were just sitting in the audience minding their own business and boom! NEW CARS FOR ALL OF YOU! I just started crying.
And that was just the first segment of the show. I continued to cry over the homeless girl getting college tuition, a makeover and a new wardrobe. And then more tears when Connie, the living angel, got saved from eviction plus all new appliances and furniture. Oprah, man. I don’t know what I’d do without her. The best part of the whole show was when she told the homeless girl that she believed in her. Can you imagine Oprah, the real person, telling you that she believed in you? That would change my whole life! That’s when I just lost it. I looked down, shook my head, felt the tears hit my lap and said out loud, “I love you, Oprah!” This, in the privacy of my own bedroom.
Later, Coral said, “Oprah’s going to heaven!”
I replied, “Well, yeah. She is God.” And I do believe it. Oprah is nothing short of heavenly. I bet she smells like clean linens and peach cobbler and that perfume that the first teacher that ever made you feel important wore. I once was in Chicago doing promotion for Girls Behaving Badly, and at the affiliate dinner where the cast meets these cable people and something really good happens for the network in return, I met these two women that had just been to her show. I said, “Did she smell amazing?” And not surprisingly, they were both enraptured by her smell and gushed about how wonderful it was. I knew it. I just knew it. I can tell through my TV screen that she smells amazing. There’s just something about her.
What could the letter I write to her say? I ain’t got no money, but I’m rich in personality? Would she get the Prince reference?
Now, my mother does deserve a makeover. She works tirelessly at that nursing home, befriending old people that have been abandoned by their families. I don’t think I’m brave enough to even write that letter though. That’s like getting deep in the family vault of woes and I don’t think my mom or my dad would like that very much. I guess every mom has heartache and headaches, but I just feel like my mom doesn’t deserve it at all. Plus, if Oprah wanted to give my mom a day at the spa, my mom would decline. Mercy ain’t getting naked for no strangers and surely no strangers will be massaging her naked body. Oh no. She’ll just have to get a nice haircut and an outfit. Maybe a new car. Someone stole her nice one! Yes, he did! Long story. Got my mother driving around in a stripped down Sentra. I gotta make something happen LA style. I can’t have my mother rolling around without any airbags! I just take solace in the fact that she drives like we’re living on the Oregon trail. Nice and slow. Just to get two miles from the house, she needs to bring food, vaccines and figure out how to avoid flash floods and snakebites because Mercy will be on a straight journey, taking hella long.
I can’t think about this anymore. I’m getting sad. The point is, I love Oprah and today was the most amazing episode ever just like she promised.
And just like NBC promised, Starting Over started over today and let me tell you something. I love this show. Love it so much I might have to dedicate some space specifically for it on this site and prove once and for all that I have no life. My Old Lady Real World is back in full effect!
It's crazy that they're in LA. Not Calabasas, not Sherman Oaks, straight up LA. Please please let the whole cast get drinks at a bar in my neighborhood! Exclamation point! I already love Deborah. She’s been selected as the house outcast on this here premiere episode. I find that insane because I loved her from the moment I laid my eyes on her. Jheri curl and all. One of the first things she said when she moved in was, “I’m pre-menopausal…” and she went on to say she gets hot at night so she brought her own fan and sleeps butt ass nekkid much to Kim’s (the snob lady who I already don’t like based on her blue ruffled tweed suit alone) dismay. Oh, and just so you know, Deborah isn’t pronounced the normal way. It’s DIB-BORE-RUH, thank you very much. And don’t think she didn’t work out on the treadmill with a headset and fanny pack on just to later be seen on the couch, still in her workout gear, feeling her tunes, hand motions and everything, while eating cotton candy out of a bag with a fork. Yes she did. Just thinking about it has made me stop crying. Weekdays at noon. NBC. Get there.
Posted by melissah at September 13, 2004 11:48 PM