The 2005 MTV Video Music Awards:
8:00 P.M. I have this vague, lazy desire to count how many times I'm going to hear, "YouknowwhatI'msayin'?" tonight, distinguishing between the times that yes, I do indeed know what the speaker is saying, and the times that I have no clue. During Green Day's opening chords, I decide this will require way too much effort on my part. The sad thing is that Billy Joe figured out how to use black eyeliner underneath his eyes way before me. It was only this month that I asked Taryn how you get it to stay there without getting blinked away, and she informed me that there are two different eyeliner formulas, and I've been struggling with the wrong kind since adolescence.
8:10 P.M. Two observations: One, Diddy is a huge tool, a huger tool than Carson Daly, but he's like the fat girls on My Super Sweet 16 whose dads throw them gaudy, blowout hotel parties with henna tattooing and congratulatory phone calls from Lil' Bow-Wow. I think the only reason that people, people being the media, won't widely acknowledge his tooliness because they don't want to risk their invites. Two, Lindsay Lohan has officially made the transformation into Ann Margaret, except not young Ann Margaret, but sixty-year-old Ann Margaret with a double mastectomy.
8:12 P.M. In his acceptance speech, Kanye West advises that artists should take things into their own hands, and I think about sending this piece of wisdom to Harcourt, encouraging them to let me design my own book cover so I don't end up with another dirty blond wearing a Jockey training bra.
8:28 P.M. Diddy announces that the theme of tonight is that "Anything Can Happen," which is a pretty shitty theme when compared to my "Under The Sea" Bat Mitzvah extravaganza of '92.
8:31 P.M. Judging by the way she dresses, I think Kirsten Dunst wishes she was fat.
8:36 P.M. These Revlon commercials where Halle Berry, Susan Sarandon, Kate Bosworth, and Eva Mendes "interact" really freak me out because they're trying to act normal, like Halle can't find her pants, and Eva jokes, "Are these them?" because she's been sitting on the pants. And then Susan Sarandon says something like, "Kids, kids, don't fight," and Kate Bosworth is just there, putting on mascara, and I can't figure out why they're all in this backstage lounge together because it kind of feels like they're upscale strippers, they've just gotten out of their brocade pasties and mink eyelashes, and now they're returning to their lives as respectable, middle class women. So they're putting on muted Revlon shades and getting back into their pants, and Halle is saying she's soooooo happy she has some free time now because it's like she's spent the night humping a pole in front of the nastiest, vilest men alive, and she just wants to get home to her cats. Or maybe they're just all supposed to be starring in a Broadway play together.
8:44 P.M. Jessica Simpson is going to get so much shit for her top tomorrow.
8:53 P.M. I took Latin in high school and French in college, so I can't report if Shakira's lyrics to her new song are any good, or at least as good as my favorite line from her English hit, "Whenever, Wherever": "Lucky that my breasts are small and humble/ So you don't confuse them with mountains." I have the opposite problem. Sometimes I'll be with a boyfriend and he'll shake his head in confusion and ask, "Did I just touch Big Bear?"
9:01 P.M. Did Diddy and Usher make the faux pas of wearing the same blue-gray taffeta suit?
9:06 P.M. Eric Roberts is so slimy that just by watching him talk for the past minute, I now completely understand why Julia Roberts estranged herself from him.
9:10 P.M. Oh, beautiful! R. Kelly is going to re-enact his R&B-opera "Trapped In The Closet" live for us. The set designer had the good sense to erect a freestanding closet door in the middle of the stage because, well, the closet is key, even if R. can no longer trap himself inside of it because this interpretation lacks an interior. Wow, it's even better watching R. acting to an invisible mistress and an invisible mistress's angry husband than to watch him perform with other people in the room. Because now he's just pointing to the empty bed and the fake closet door and the poor, poor people in the front row who have to stand there and watch this lip-sync job while trying not to collapse from the deadly combo of heat and laughter.
R.'s singing has ceased (but the song hasn't), and for a moment, the performance has suddenly veered dangerously into mime territory. Mark my words, this is a performance that will A.) go down in history and B.) will be featured prominently on Jimmy Kimmel's show tomorrow night.
9:19 P.M. Diddy, perhaps embarrassed by the taffeta incident, has changed into very, very shiny black suit coat. I need a Hi-Def TV in order to identify the fabric better. (What up, birthday, October 28! I can't believe it's already September and I haven't issued my ten page birthday "idea" list to my family. This just tells you how insanely busy things have been this season.) Also, Diddy has put together one of those narcissistic "My Life" slide shows that you usually only have to sit through at Sweet Sixteens, Bat Mitzvahs, and funerals.
9:22 P.M. Hilary Duff's new teeth kill me. Friends can back me up on this, as I talk about the veneers practically every other day.
9:27 P.M. I have a strange feeling that Jeremy Piven's prison banter was not discussed with Lil' Kim beforehand, and he might get shot after the show. She's trying to be classy by covering up her ta-ta's, but her version 3.0 nose has ironically made her more white trash than ever.
9:52 P.M. Judging by the way he dresses, I think Fat Joe wishes he wasn't fat.
10:14 P.M. I wouldn't mind if someone socked Jamie Foxx. Missy Elliot sort of looked like she'd be up for the job before, when Jamie grabbed her and began spewing god knows what into her ear (I'm guessing it was probably something along the Ray Charlesy lines of, "Oh, Ah! Oh, Ah!") while she was trying to get past him to accept her award. Dude needs to take an "adorable humility" lesson from Kelly Clarkson. (11:13 P.M. Jamie breaks into Destiny's Child's farewell speech to help them praise god. Even they look shocked.)
10:32 P.M. Whoa, Eva Longoria wore a bathing suit to the awards, and we're only just seeing her now. There is no camera on her ass.
10:34 P.M. Even though she exudes crazy, Mariah Carey is still a poor show substitute for Courtney Love.
11:15 P.M. Green Day wins "Video Of The Year." Everything comes full circle. There's been a lot of literal fire on this show and a lot of fire imagery, but that doesn't mean there was actually any excitement. I say it every year and I never learn my lesson, but-- most boring show ever. The attendees are off to party. I "partied" as well last night, and if you want to hear how crazy it gets when you're doing it like me, I came home with one more rubber-band on my wrist than I left the house with, and I have no idea how it got there.