Liz vs. Lisa: American Idol or The Voice?

It's no secret that we're reality TV junkies.  From Top Chef to Bad Girls Club, we have to get our fix.  And usually, we're in agreement on what to watch.  Case in point: We have both always loved American Idol. From Kelly Clarkson to Clay Aiken, we've religiously watched and even bought some of the contestant's lackluster debut albums. (We're talking to you David Archuleta!)  But recently, one of us has strayed.  Skipping AI and even (gasp!) DELETING it without watching.  This person even had the balls to ask the other who got kicked off last week (as if!).  And it wouldn't be so bad if she was just too busy to watch-but it's not that.  She's cheating on AI with The Voice! So after a heated girlfight discussion about which one is best that got us nowhere, we decided to battle it out here.  And after you hear our arguments, we want you to weigh in! Buh-bye AI, Hellloooo The Voice by Liz

Don't get me wrong-I'm not totally hatin' on AI.  But something happened to me last season.  And no, it wasn't Ryan Seacrest's hair or the judge's inability to actually critique anyone.  Looking back, it was probably a combination of Scotty McCreery overload(Totally never got the appeal of him) and the absence of Simon Cowell. Either way, I had lost that loving feeling.

The Voice was at the right place at the right time.  I love the fact they choose their talent based on well, talent, rather than relying on what they look like-and it was always interesting to see the judges kick themselves when they didn't turn their chairs around only to discover some hot piece of ass on the other side at the end of the song.  And because of that, I think the crop of contestants on The Voice are more talented.  Not to mention more interesting and diverse.(Do you really think AI would have put that bald chick through last year?  Come on.)

And The Voice seems determined in building people up rather than bringing them down.  Conversely, AI's Hollywood week had more medical emergencies than a underage rave this season, always with the cameras right there to catch the drama and bring it to you in slow motion.  I'm sorry, but watching a sixteen-year old fall off the stage in a diabetic coma is not my idea of entertainment.

Okay. *climbs off high horse* Now I'm going to list the REAL reasons why The Voice freakin rules:

1. Adam Levine is freakin' HOT.  Even though I know he's probably the biggest douchebag ever, I'd let coach me anytime, anywhere, about anything.  Just sayin'. And did any of y'all see that spread of him in Entertainment Weekly? Wow. Let's just say he gave all new meaning to the words, "six pack" and made me rethink how I feel about men with tattoos.

2.  Cee Lo Green is nuts.  His Dr. Evil impression with the cat is odd to say the least.  And his team kinda sucks-What's up with that weird chick that wears the headband and the Wayne's World impersonators? But hey, every show needs their Paula Abdul.

3. Christina Aguilera's boobs.  I tune in just to see what they will be doing each week.  Seriously. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for a nipple to pop out last week!

4. Carson Daly is a much cooler version of Ryan Seacrest.  Let's face it, overall, the eye candy factor is much better over here. (Sorry Lisa, Steven Tyler and his man scarves do NOT do it for me!)

5. Pip.  I love the shit out of this guy and his bow ties. And his name is PIP!  It doesn't get any better than that.  Take that Phillip Phillips and your gravelly, super sexy voice.  Do you think he could rock a bow tie and suspenders? Or sing show tunes? I think NOT!

Bottom line: The Voice rules, AI drools!

I Still Love American Idol by Lisa

Don't worry, American Idol, I've got your back. Well me and twenty-eight MILLION other people that is. Now when Simon left, I was sure the show was going straight to the toilet. I mean, without  his contestant smack downs and strange Brit appeal, what would happen? Turns out, the show got even better! (Sorry, Simon! Hopefully that whole Howard Stern thing will work out).

Shows like the Voice are trying hard to overtake it and arguably The Voice does bring certain things to the table that AI doesn't....

Idol certainly doesn't have a resident LAP CAT like Cee Lo Green's (Meow!). And it also doesn't boast a washed up second string host like Carson Daley (*cough* Total Request Live was like 1,000 years ago!).

But what it does have is an ELEVEN year history of success and it's plucked small town farm girls from obscurity and catapulted them into incredible fame (Carrie Underwood, anyone?) Not to mention its other success stories including Chris Daughtry and Kelly Clarkson. I respect Idol because it stays true to what it is. A show that's looking for talent while putting on a good show. And although there have been times when the cameras didn't need to be rolling (people puking during Hollywood week) it is, afterall, a reality show people!  And here's why, when push comes to shove, I choose my beloved Idol over The Voice.

1. Phillip Phillips. Ahhh. There's nothing like a Josh Lucas knock-off to get this cougar's heart pumping. After I googled him and discovered he was 21, I let the inner roar out completely. Not to mention he's freakin' talented (um, tell me you guys downloaded his rendition of Billy Joel's Movin' Out after last night's performance?!?!) and his family loves the sh*t out of him. (His dad cries!)

2. Steven Tyler. Okay, this one you guys may not understand. And maybe he looked like he raided Captain Jack Sparrow's closet last night. BUT... there's something about the feathers in his hair, his eyeliner and even his creepy comments that give me a sense of joy--not to mention cause me to have an unexplainable crush on him. Sure, maybe he always says the same thing-- "That was beautiful"--but he has a microphone covered with flowers. Not to mention, he's Steven effing Tyler, bitches!

3. Jennifer Lopez. Does she ever look less than perfect? (Last night's leather skirt was to die for!) And twins? Really? WTF? She's so freakin' gorgeous that I don't even care what she's saying to the contestants. Plus, she actually has very sound advice for the contestants. Go Jenny from the Block! She's earning every penny of her 15 million dollar a year salary if you ask me.

4. The mentors. By mentors, I mean Diddy. As in Puffy. Sean Puffy Combs. P. Diddy. Diddy. Did y'all see him last night? These mentors make the show for me. Okay, maybe Diddy makes the show for me. But still...

5. Did I mention Phillip Phillips?

What do YOU think?  AI or The Voice?  Tell us!

xoxo, Liz & Lisa

Mommy Monday-Till death do us part

Most parents dread the day they have to explain the concept of death to their children.  That they'll have to shatter their belief that we'll all be here forever. And while some people like to go with  Honey, we sent Daisy the dog to live with another family when their animals pass, I've always been more of a realist. When Goofy the guinea pig inexplicably dropped dead last year, I gave it to my five- year-old straight.  And what else could I do, considering the fact that we had found her lifeless body together?  She was pretty upset, but after a proper burial, impromptu memorial service in the backyard and a brand new guinea the next week, she seemed to move on pretty quickly. *big sigh of relief*

But when our beloved German Shepard, Jordan, collapsed late Tuesday night, explaining to a five year old that the dog she's loved since she was born might not come home was a whole other story.

In fact, it was one of my first thoughts as I raced to the "Animal ER".  (Well, that and the fact that "Animal ER" would make a great reality show) As I waited the THREE HOURS to see Dr. McDoggy, I wondered what I'd say to the kids when she wasn't there to lick their faces in the morning and silently prayed that she had just eaten something really, really bad.  But four hours and *gasp* $1500 (WTF! Are animals eligible for universal health care too?) later, Dr. McDoggy gave me the diagnosis and it wasn't good. Jordan had cancer.

Needless to say, it was turning into a bad night.  The only bright spot? That Dr. McDoggy was damn cute.  And had an accent. In fact, his only flaw was his tendency to have more dramatic pauses in his speech than Ryan Seacrest on elimination night of American Idol. It's 4am, dude! Just spit it out!

And because I believe in being honest, I broke the news to the kids the next day.  That Jordan was very sick, she may not be with us much longer, so let's just give her all the love and enjoy every minute that she's with us. That should do it, right?

WRONG.

*insert three hours of screaming and crying followed by thousands of uncomfortable theological questions*

But now a few days later, they seem to be getting through it. But I have to say, there is a part of me that wishes we hadn't told them. Which begs the question: How long should we shield our kids from death?

I've always been the mom that told my kids that if they crossed the street without me, they would get hit by a car. Same story with the pool.  Don't go in without Mommy. Why?  Because you'll drown.  And while some of my friends thought my approach was a bit, um, harsh, I always felt like it was better for them to know that if they step out in front of a moving car, the shit's going to hit the fan.

But now, I'm not as sure.  Life and death are such complex concepts that I'm not sure they grasp them.  And the last thing I want is for my kids walking around being scared to death of, well, death!

Sadly, our elderly neighbor passed away this week. And after my experience with Jordan, when the kids asked me why I was buying his wife flowers last night, I just smiled and said nothing.  Because I think they've had enough life lessons for one week.

xo, Liz

The Bride Card By Lisa

Some might say the President of the United States is the most powerful man in the world. Others might argue its celebrities like Madonna, Elton John or Brad Pitt who dominate. I say there’s no doubt those people are all important, but there’s someone with a lot more influence and authority. Someone who red carpets roll out for, champagne constantly appears for and anyone will do anything for.

The bride.

For one day, more important than any other uniform in the world is the white dress and veil. And more exclusive and powerful than even the elusive black American Express is another card. A card you only get to carry for one day. A card that you can milk for access to anyone and anything. A card that gets you a yes to any question you ask. A card that allows you to act however you want and still get whatever you want.

The bride card.

Even my award-winning Matron of Honor, Liz, (more on that in a minute) used it. In fact, I might even argue she became drunk with power as the words bridal suite rolled off her tongue with such ease you’d think she’d lived in the 650 square foot space all of her life. If I so much as blinked or even slightly furrowed my brow, Liz was on the phone faster than you can say bridezilla expertly using some combination of the words, “the bride wants”, “the bride needs” or “the bride is REALLY, REALLY thirsty and will ONLY drink White Star champagne.”

Or even when the bride card wasn’t being used for me, but was not so secretly being used for her (um, like rush ordering a hamburger the night before my wedding because the “bride was hungry”) as far as I’m concerned, she was entitled to use it. She deserved to whip out the card because she blocked and tackled like there was no tomorrow. Forget that dude from The Blind Side, Liz may as well have been 6'7" and 350 pounds of rippling muscle as she watched my back.

Like when she offered to kick the asses of certain people who got a little over excited about the concept of an open bar or when she promised to personally rip the wildly inappropriate ensemble off a certain someone and replace it with something far more acceptable like a burlap sack or when my photographer asked us to “dolphin kiss” (not Matt and me—Liz and me!) for the second time (the first was traumatic enough) and she whispered through her toothless smile, “if he even infers we should hold hands, I’ll shove his camera where the sun don’t shine.”

And all the while, I got to float along behind her with a huge toothy smile on my face- wondering if this was what the Queen of England or a mob boss felt like- having someone else to do their dirty work for them.

I’d like to take a moment to give Liz the Matron of Honor of the Year award and thank her for:

• Wearing four-inch heels during the ceremony even though the highest she ever goes is 1.5.
• Reminding me to keep things in perspective. Most notably when I called her in a heated panic over a mysterious rash that had appeared on my back and she sternly yet softly warned me that I’d better get it together and realize there were people out there with real problems- like in Haiti.
• Telling me it was okay that I cried with joy when I saw and loved myself in my wedding dress.
• And also that it was okay to say out loud that as a producer I thought my wedding was a damn. Good. Show.
• Sticking her entire head under my wedding dress to put on my “something borrowed” garter and smiling bravely as she got more up close and personal than even my Russian bikini waxer, Tatiana, and saw things she should’ve never had to see. In. Her. Entire. Life. (We’re close, but not that close!)
• For doing her bride proud and giving a kick ass, laugh out loud MOH speech. (Hilarious highlights include, but are not limited to, the reminder of the pure bred cat I came dangerously close to ordering in the height of my singledom, the list of former metrosexual boyfriends including the Ryan Seacrest wannabe and the very astute and simultaneously frightening observation that my husband, Matt is practically Liz in a wig.)

Thank you, MOH!!!!

Well, I'm happy to report that my wedding day was the best day of my life. And it's not because I got to play the bride card (okay maybe that was a tiny part of it) but because I have the best friends and family anyone could ask for! And I married the best man I could ever ask for.

Oh, and I wore the best. damn. dress. evuh!

On that note-would it be weird if I arbitrarily decided to wear my wedding dress, say, out to dinner or even to run errands? The thought of packing her away makes me too sad for words and the thought of not being the bride anymore, well, I can't even talk about it!

;)

xoxo,

Lisa