Tag Archives: dollhouse

Fox takes down the Dollhouse, not Ballard and Caroline

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I started watching season one of Dollhouse with Lauren, my sister, and she is totally hooked. I’m hooked all over again, too. I’m dying for her to get caught up completely. DYING, I tell you. I so want her to see the latest episode, the one about Sierra.

I’m really pissed that Fox canned Dollhouse. For a while, I had a show that I could watch every week that I loved. I truly think that Fox doomed it from the beginning by scheduling it at 9:00 on a Friday night. Dollhouse’s core audience is twenty-somethings, who are — for the most part — OUT on a Friday night. So unless you’re a hardcore Whedon/Dushku fan, you’re probably not going to stay in for it or watch it online the next day. We live in a fast paced world now, and most people don’t think they have the time — and they definitely don’t have the patience — to follow a story.

This is why reality shows work so well, as stupid as they are; if you miss a week, you can jump right in next week and watch without having to know what happened last week.

The people who are home on Friday nights are a little older. They’re settled down. They might be housewives or couples who are past the going out stage. This is what I call the Lifetime crowd (and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way); they faithfully watch Ghost Whisperer (which sucks) because it’s geared toward them and they’re home anyway. This is why Ghost Whisperer (again, sucks) got more ratings than Dollhouse.

If Fox had just done a little more thinking and scheduled Dollhouse on, say, a Tuesday night, they wouldn’t be so disappointed by the low (two million) ratings. I mean, you can’t schedule a show at a time when its core audience is out drinking, eating, or watching a MLB game and then turn around and whine that the ratings are low. It’s pretty DUH, actually. The show is very intriguing and there is so much potential for it.

Of course, all of this ranting won’t undo what has been done: Dollhouse will finish out this second season two episodes at a time and then be gone completely from the network. I’d like to think that another network with more common sense will pick it up, but the fact that Whedon is writing to finish the series tells me that it probably won’t happen.

At least I get a double fix every week now.

That health care change, Obama? We need it, like yesterday.

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In case you needed to know, I feel like a zombie that got ran over by a school bus about ninety times. I’ve got some kind of bug — or a really, really brutal sinus infection — and missed work and class today because I feel like crap.

To top it off, when I called my regular doctor (my primary care doctor, NOT the office where I see Pam the PA), they didn’t even seem to care. The receptionist just brushed me off and told me she’d have the doctor call in a prescription. Um, hello? You can’t just call in a prescription without seeing me! I could have swine flu or something, for all you know!! (Not that I have swine flu. I’m just sayin’.)

This was at 9:30 this morning. Two episodes of Dollhouse later, I still hadn’t heard back from them. So I called again, she brushed me off again, and told me the doctor just got in — apparently doctors don’t have to come in to the office until 11 am now — and that they would call me once he’d called in the prescription. I felt too shitty and dumbfounded to argue.

“Okay…” I said before she hung up. Hooray for health care.

Then I decided to call Pam the PA’s office. They can’t fit me in until tomorrow morning, so it looks like I’m going to miss another day of work (missed Monday because of the holiday), which means I’m going to have to use my vacation time (since I don’t get sick time). Either that or be broke, which I already am. (I’m a web designer and I’m broke. I still can’t figure that out.)

My primary care doctor’s office finally called me around 2 this afternoon. She said the doctor called in a prescription for an antibiotic and a cough medicine.

“Cough medicine?” I asked.

“You said you had a cough.”

“Yeah, from my allergies!” I then explained my symptoms again: low fever, sinus pressure, very sore throat, fatigue.

“Well, we don’t have to call in the cough medicine. We can just call in the antibiotic.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

I have yet to go pick up my prescription. I don’t have the energy, and how do I even know that I need an antibiotic? There are a lot of bugs going around right now, so I don’t want to just take some medicine if I don’t need it. Maybe I need a specific antibiotic. Of course, they wouldn’t know, because they couldn’t be bothered to see me.

Argh, health care.

Did I mention that my good friend, Chronic Pain, is here to visit today too? So on top of a sinus headache and a sore throat, I’ve also got achy legs.

At least I get to watch Dollhouse.

I don't have anything witty to put here, so let's title it "Religion"

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I’m singing the Spice Girls right now and my cat has probably OD’d on Lithium, she’s so happy.

Tonight is going to rock, despite all of the shoot-me-now my life has been lately. I’m going to see Watchmen with Mike, and it’s going to be awesome. I’ve never read the graphic novel, but the trailer just looks so cool I think I’m going to be obsessed. In fact, there is a discount book store in my city that just opened, so I think Mike and I are going to check that out today. Maybe they’ll have the book and I won’t have to feel guilty about spending any money because everything in there is (supposedly) 40% off regular seller prices.

Last night was the season finale of Burn Notice. The new season starts in June. I’m going to die between now and then. Speaking of TV, I’m behind on Dollhouse and probably going to miss tonight’s episode. Whoever decided to put it on a Friday night is a moron. No one is home Friday night. I hope they count the number of views the episodes on the Fox website get, because I doubt the TV ratings are very high.

We also watched Religulous last night. I agreed with a lot of what Bill Maher said. My mom is Protestant and my dad is Catholic, though neither of them are hardcore about it. I was baptized Protestant and raised with a little bit of both. Mom always made us go to church on Sundays with her mother, while Dad stayed at home and watched Nascar. (I never got why it was okay for him to stay home but I had to endure two hours of either Sunday school or the pastor droning on and on. My favorite part about church was the Italian bread and grape juice. Oh, that and going home and playing with my toys afterward.)

I can’t remember exactly when I stopped going, but eventually my mom gave up on dragging me out of bed to go somewhere I didn’t want to be. Religion just never made sense for me. I listened to the stories and teachings, but I had a hard time believing in something I couldn’t see or feel. I tried exploring other religions for a while. I practiced Wicca and read about Druidism. I studied the Muslim religion in eighth grade. As interesting as it all was, I didn’t take any of it seriously.

I don’t believe in any kind of higher power. I am a firm believer of living my own life the way I want to, and treating others the way I want to be treated. I practice being happy and being a good person. I’ve been called a Satanist, and I’ve had people stop talking to me just because I don’t believe in any kind of god. (For the record, I don’t believe in any kind of devil, either. I think people have the freedom to be good or evil.) I once got fired from a job for no real reason, and I still believe to this day that it was because I don’t have a religion. (My boss and coworkers were all religious in some way.)

Religion is a touchy subject for most people. Don’t get me wrong. I am fascinated by other people’s beliefs. It’s interesting to me, but I take as much stock in it as I take in the spaghetti monster in the sky. (I did that just for you, Mike. I know you’re reading this, even though you never comment. Lazy ass.) I won’t not talk to someone just because of their religion. As weird as some practices may seem to me — like Scientology — I won’t dispute that it’s something people believe in. You believe what you wanna believe. I’ll leave you alone, as long as you leave me alone. Don’t interrogate me or tell me what I need to believe. Don’t try to force me into praying, or I’ll sick the vicious kitty on you:

Squirt

Squirt

The weekend of champions!

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What’ll it be: the requisite Valentine’s Day post, a review of the Friday the 13th remake, a review of the pilot episode of Dollhouse, or more drama than is healthy for anyone?

Michael and I stopped bickering long enough to go see the Friday the 13th remake on, well, Friday the 13th. Instead of being mean to each other, we strolled around the mall arm in arm (he even bought me clothes)! Instead of picking at each other over every stupid little thing, we watched people get slaughtered and listened to fifteen-year-old gangstas yell out stupid things at regular intervals. I didn’t want to see it at first (Mike can tell you all about our debate on remakes and sequels), but eventually my curiosity won. Besides, it was Friday the 13th! (And I figured I should be a good girlfriend and go see the damn movie with my boyfriend.)

Of course, nothing is ever perfect. We sat in the truck letting it warm up when the movie was over. The parking lot was nearly empty and it was kind of creepy. Mike chainsmoked his way through our post-movie banter. All of a sudden, I got a sharp, stabbing pain in my left shoulder — much like what happened after my cousin’s birthday party two months ago. This time, the pain was on the backside of my shoulder and the backside of my upper arm. Just like last time, it brought me to tears and hysterics. I sat there screaming like a two-year-old while Mike tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.

Just like last time, it was over relatively quickly. The weirdest part, though, was that it happened exactly two months after the first time.

Valentine’s Day was pretty low-key, luckily. Mike came over for cake for Lauren’s birthday, and fried dough for dinner. We went to Walmart for a few things and then went to his house. On top of the three shirts he bought me (see above), there’s also a mystery present he got on eBay that is en route to his house as I type this. I gave him his card, which apparently was not gay (I wrote him a long, sappy letter inside; everything I usually do like that is “gay,” according to him). We watched random TV and cuddled and stuff, and then he dropped me off. Naturally I forgot my Walmart bags in his truck, but I got them the next morning after I took him out to breakfast at our favorite diner.

Breakfast was nice but he had to go to work after, so we didn’t get to linger or hang out afterward (which was probably a good thing; I didn’t want to push our luck and have us start bickering again). I went to a birthday party for Kaylene, my goddaughter, where there was all kinds of drama that I don’t have any ambition to write about.

Last night I watched the pilot episode of Dollhouse, since I couldn’t watch it Friday night when it aired. It was an awesome episode, and I hope it’s just the beginning of how awesome this series is going to be. It seems that Joss Whedon’s writing has gotten even better, which I didn’t think possible. It was really cool to see him do something so different, and of course it’s even better to see him working with Eliza Dushku and Amy Ackers again. I can’t wait until next Friday.

All in all, it was a pretty good weekend. It could have been worse, right?