Did I get progressively sicker and vomit because I was watching MTV for too many consecutive hours, or was I watching MTV because I was sick and moderately drugged? To be honest, I'm still not sure. It's kind of like the "which came first, the chicken or the egg?" principle — except with a little less agriculture and a little more urban- and suburban-ites living the high life.
Either way, like many of my fellow students this time of year, I recently found myself a bit under the weather, hacking and coughing, my stomach in utter distress, riding the old faithful Dayquil/NyQuil train, with little-to-no ambition to do much of anything. Sure, I had plenty of reading to do, but the rigors of academia were of no interest to me; I was not in need of textbooks and highlighters, but instead required a helping of mindless self-indulgence. While I could have easily watched "Law and Order" (Long live Jack McCoy!) on at least six channels at any given time of the day, I instead opted for the ultimate in mindless television — MTV reality television.
For countless hours I lay in a worthless lump on my couch, curled under layers of fleece, absorbing countless images of teens and young adults crying over ruined party dresses and romantic troubles.
As much as I wanted to stop, I could not turn away.
In my weakened state, the life and times of people in the Hollywood Hills was just too intriguing, and, surprisingly, I managed to learn a thing or two, which includes but is in no way limited to the following:
If you don't get a Jaguar for your 16th birthday, it probably means your parents don't love you
In my drug-induced haze, not only was I lucky enough to catch one episode of "My Super Sweet Sixteen," where I witnessed the world's deadliest beast in action — the teenage drama queen. In the world of wealthy brats, it is perfectly acceptable to cuss out parents, friends and personal style consultants, as long as your party is fabulous.
I had the extreme pleasure of viewing the "Best of" clips, which compiled the fiestas with the hottest cars, the swankiest locales and the most fashionable imported clothing. I watched Amberly jet set off to Paris and demand "American-style" designs for her ultimate Barbie dress, and Aaron get Kanye West to perform at his party, while Cher received a shiny red Jaguar, which she likely crashed days later while putting on lip gloss in the rear-view mirror.
Alas, this soon ushered in an air of high-school nostalgia and my own "super sweet" sixteen: My family sang to me around the kitchen table, we dined on a fine carrot cake that cost upward of $12, and they gave me a sweet ride — the limited driving privileges of my mom's Chevy Astro van. As you can imagine, I was the talk of the school.
After a while, I even fell prey to the super-spoiled mentality. Why, oh why hadn't I received my favorite BMW? Why hadn't my parents dropped $500,000 to make my every 16-year-old dream come true? It must have been because my mom and dad don't think I was worth it — that, or they would have been required to sell our home, vehicles and a kidney or two in order to make this possible. For now, I'm choosing to go with the former; I haven't talked to my mom in days.
Hooked on Phonics worked for Fergie
In between riveting television programming, I found myself engaged in pop-culture English lessons. It seems since she ventured away from the Black Eyed Peas to try her hand at a solo album, Stacy "Fergie" Ferguson is on a one-woman mission to improve the literacy of pop-listening America. Her "Spankin' New" video on MTV, "Glamorous," continues an ongoing trend of mixing spelling bees with song lyrics. First popularized by Gwen Stefani in "Hollaback Girl" with her bouncing declaration, "This shit is bananas… B-A-N-A-N-A-S," the First Lady of the Peas shows the trend is still proving successful in her latest breathy, '80s-sounding ballad.
Thanks to Ms. Ferguson, I now know how to spell multiple words of great use in my everyday vocabulary — namely, an alternative of "tasty" (spelled T-A-S-T-E-Y), "delicious," "Fergalicious" and now "glamorous," a word which certainly used to get me every time. (Is there really a U after the O?) Used in a sentence: Now that she is glamorous, the Fergalicious Fergie pays fewer visits to Taco Bell for tastey, delicious Chalupas.
Life is, like, really, really hard when you live in the Hillside Villas
As shameful as it is to admit, I actually enjoyed watching the dramatic "Laguna Beach" spin-off "The Hills," which follows the life of hard-working, voice-of-reason Lauren "LC" Conrad and her interactions with her airhead roomy Heidi and other Cali kids of varying degrees of intelligence and UV radiation. I might liken it to "Meet the Parents": At times it's almost painful to witness so many embarrassing situations, but at the same time, you have to laugh, because at least you're not that stupid. But honestly, where else could you tune in to catch an inside glimpse at the Teen Vogue offices, journey to the dark corners of L.A.'s hottest night clubs for some excellent catfight action, and, of course, become privy to some of the best quotes to integrate into your everyday vocabulary — my favorite of course being "Oh my God, don't call him back, I'll, like, totally throw your Blackberry into my Mojito."
Bald is beautiful?
MTV News, you heard it first — Britney Spears shaved her head, got tattooed and does not want to be touched. Sad to see Britney pull a Mariah Carey and have a pop diva meltdown, but her stunt shows maybe looks aren't everything. Another consolation: at least there was a small break in the Anna Nicole coverage.
Ashley Voss is a senior majoring in journalism. E-mail her at [email protected].
