Last week: Tami had an abortion. Then all the other copywriters where I work got laid off and I had lots of work and I cried and cried and stabbed myself several times in the eye with a rollerball pen. And then this whole election thing happened and I'm still watching CNN, like, twenty hours a day. Blah, blah, blah, excusescakes. I took a long time to write this. Sorry.
Beth is all curled up in the phone nook, and Jon is eavesdropping. Beth giggles to the person on the other end that she has this friend, and this friend of hers lives with these two girls who go to UCLA, and guess what the two girls who go to UCLA have? The clap. Ha! Sorry. If you can't make fun of your own school, what can you make fun of, I ask you? No, seriously. Seriously, they don't have the clap. As far as I know. What they do have is a copy of the 1993 "Men of Westwood" calendar, and guess who Mr. August is? Aaron. I'd like to just comment that I really wish they made Men of Westwood calendars while I was a Woman of Westwood, because I would have bought one because I'm a whore. I mean, because I like boys. Whatever. Shut up. Stop reading this, Mom!
In an interview, Aaron, looking particularly surfer-y, chuckles and says he's never going to take a picture like the one in the calendar ever, ever again. Unless that nice man Larry Flynt calls him again with an offer he can't refuse.
In the confessional, Beth chortles gleefully, as she is wont to do, and whispers conspiratorially that in the calendar, Aaron is naked and is covering his bits with his surfboard!
Then we get to see the calendar, and dude, he doesn't have a shirt on, no, but there's no reason to believe that he has forgone pants; the picture is from the waist up, Aaron is holding his surfboard, and he's probably wearing trunks. Beth just wishes that he were naked. I wish he were naked. Shit, did I just say that? Never mind. Keep reading.
In his interview, Aaron confesses that he's totally humiliated by the picture.
In the confessional, Beth squeals that she can't wait to "drop the bomb" on Aaron. She hugs her knees and rocks back and forth and squeaks like a deranged hamster.
Jon explains that Irene is getting married that weekend, and it's been so very, very hard to bid her farewell forever, but he did help her load her car. Wow, Jon, here's a cookie.
In an interview, Irene lies and says she's sad to be leaving the house.
In yet another interview, Beth opens her eyes all wide and Jessica Wakefields that she's going to miss spending time with Irene.
Interview-pallooza! In his, Aaron leans back in his chair and says that Irene is like "the mom" in the house. "But she'd definitely be a hot mom to have," he grins. Ew.
Whatever. Jon says that everyone in the house has wondered who "the boss" is in Irene and Tim's relationship. Dude, everyone knows that Tony Danza is the boss! Actually, Aaron says, Irene is tough, but "Tim puts her in her place. Which is good." Yeah, can't have them uppity womenfolk thinking that they can run things, can we? Get 'em pregnant and barefoot and leave them in the kitchen where they belong, that's my motto.
Over a scene of Irene kicking Tim's ass in a self-defense class, Tami laughs that Irene is definitely in charge in her relationship with Tim. "Who's the man?" the song on the soundtrack asks, thankfully illuminating what was, prior to this, a very confusing story arc. Irene and Tim, in a joint interview, claim that they both wear the pants. Tim tells Irene that's "a good answer." She smiles tightly and thanks him. I suspect this means that they both know she's in charge, but she's agreed to help him save face in front of any of his sexist friends who may or may not be watching, and that he's going to pay for this little lie for the rest of their married life.
God, Irene is so, so so so boring, I'm just going to summarize this little section and spare you all the boring and back and forth. Trust me, it's boring.
Irene tells the story of how she met her betrothed: she and Tim met at the police academy (what Dom refers to as "police school"). She was his training officer. They hooked up one day when she was sick, and he brought dinner to her house and took care of her. She didn't sign a pre-nup because, she tells the roommates, she makes more money than he does. Aaron is shocked. Look what happened ever since we gave women the vote. ANARCHY!
Sweet Jesus, they're all still talking about the Irene/Tim hookup story. I read an article about The West Wing in this month's issue of George magazine. Rob Lowe just never ages, does he?
The roommates, sans Irene, go to the Santa Monica mall to shop for Irene and Tim's wedding present. It takes Tami twenty-five minutes to remember Irene's last name, but she finally does, which is more than I can say for the rest of the cast. Tami is impressed with the fact that the Macy's computerized gift registry will print out a list of all the items the happy couple covets. Um, is this the first wedding you've ever been to, Tami?
The cast berates the poor salesman at Macy's, who looks like Mackenzie Astin from The Facts of Life in a mustard-colored Century 21 blazer. I am so bored. If I wanted to watch people shop, I'd go to the mall, where, as I understand it, such things happen.
Dom chooses a set of beer mugs for the happy couple. I might just drop dead from the shock of that. Apropos of nothing, Tami hollers that she "went with the edible panties!" To quote Seattle David, thank you for telling me that.
Tami voice-overs that Irene has been planning the wedding ever since she moved into the beach house. And, indeed, we then are treated to several long, boring minutes of wedding plans. Note cards. Notebooks. Notes. RSVPs. Limo drivers. DJs. Caterers. NO ONE CARES. If I wanted to plan a wedding, I'd get married. Except I don't have a boyfriend. Fuck. Now I'm depressed. Fuck you and your wedding, Irene!
I start to drink.
Jon tells us that the last night Irene was in the house, she gave each of her roommates little buttons that reminded her of them. We see the group, without Beth, sitting around the kitchen table as Irene tells them that the buttons represent what she thinks of each of them. "Is this sarcastic?" Glen asks warily, reading his. "Of course it is," Irene snips. Glen reads his aloud. It says, "Stay Tuned: I Could Say Something Brilliant at Any Moment." Yes, that must be sarcastic, because the likelihood of Glen saying anything brilliant, ever, is equivalent to the likelihood that I will quit my job and go to work for George W. Bush, which is to say, about as likely as a lasting peace in the Middle East and a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for Carrot Top. "I don't know how to take this," Glen comments, as Irene gives Dom his button, which says, "What's Wrong? Is it My Hair?" Dom takes this junior-high-style ribbing with a good-natured grin. Jon's button says, "I may be getting older, but I refuse to grow up." He purses his lips and looks like he's going to cry, he's so touched by the fucking button. Tami laughs hysterically and slaps the table. Aaron's button reads, "It's Not Easy Being Cute." He laughs awkwardly. Tami gets her button last, and she bursts into maniacal, gleeful chortling when she reads it: "Someone Has to Be the Bitch." Well, Irene hit that right on the button, so to speak. See what I just did there? With the button, and that cliché about...did I mention that I've been drinking? I have been.
The roommates give Irene a bunch of wedding presents: beer mugs, a wok, champagne flutes.
Right after the unwrapping, Irene walks upstairs where Beth is on the phone. Beth has been on the phone the entire time, while Irene was spending her last night in the house, getting gifts from all the roommates (and note that Beth was not at the gift-buying spree), and sharing her last evening with them. Beth was on the phone. Chit-chatting. Chortling. Making it all about her.
Beth is a bitch. Like, could you not get off the phone for five minutes to watch Irene open her wedding presents? That's self-involved and rude.
Irene tells Beth that she "wasn't around" to get her pin, so she gives it to her now. While Beth is still on the phone. The pin reads, "Get Over Yourself, You Self-Obsessed Brat." Oh wait, that's the pin I sent Beth. Irene's says, "I'm Not as Sweet and Innocent as I Seem." Beth thanks her half-heartedly and laughs weakly. In an interview, she purses her lips and claims that, contrary to popular belief, she is "a little angel." Whatever gets you through the night, Princess.
In her confessional, Beth says that everyone is dying to see the Aaron Swimsuit Shot.
In an interview, Aaron says that his swimsuit shot was "the king poser, joey, squid picture of my life." I don't even know what half those slang terms mean, but I guess Aaron is embarrassed by his foray into the world of male modeling.
Beth promises that once the calendar is "in [her] possession, it's over." Oh, I'm so scared of you, Beth! You're going to ruin Aaron's reputation at Sweet Valley High! Who will ever agree to go with him to the Fantasy Under the Sea Ball now?
The Hip Squiggly Font of Introduction (tm Djb) informs us that is 5:00 AM on Irene's last morning in the house. Cue the dulcet tones of Boyz II Men (or someone) crooning about saying good-bye as Irene gets up, wakens Tami and Beth, hugs them, and drags her weepy ass to the car. It's so hard. To say. Goodbye. To yesterday. According to the soundtrack. Irene voice-overs that she cried in the car because she was going to miss living in the house, and that she's going to remember this experience for a long, long time. Allow me to translate: Irene wept tears of joy, but she knows she's going to be paying a licensed therapist for a long, long time, as she attempts to forget the horror of living with those five chuckleheads.
These Snickers "Pretty, Pretty Panda" commercials remind me of Alex Richmond.
Tami informs us that Irene was the most stable person in the household. That's almost as good being the smartest girl at Clown College.
Jon expositions that Saturday is Irene's wedding. Yip-freaking-yee.
Beth is scared, thinking about whom is going to take Irene's place. Yes, Beth S. is going to loooove Beth A., isn't she?
And Beth gets the calendar. She informs us that she's teased Aaron many a time about the possibility of his becoming a male model. Her friend flips through the calendar to get to Aaron's picture, and I have to watch that shot, like, twelve times to see if I know any of the guys she flips past. I think one of them might be my Literature of the Jazz Age TA. I can think of several men who went to UCLA at the same time I did whom I would like to see featured prominently in a beefcake calendar. You see, I had this little...hmmm, obsession is too strong a term. I had a little crush...Well, there was this guy, who played football, and -- you know what? Forget it, because when he and I finally do get married, I don't want him to know that I was only very slightly obsessed with him for five years and even considered...never mind what I considered. This conversation never happened. Let's get back to Aaron.
Jon, in the confessional, tells us that Aaron told him he would never stoop to something as cheesy as a calendar. Gotcha, Aaron.
Beth peruses the calendar and laughs gleefully.
Beth, Jon, and Glen go to Kinkos to get 200 black-and-white copies of the photo and the pièce de resistance -- two full poster-size copies. Beth acts patronizing to the Kinkos dude, and then tells us that having those copies made was best twenty bucks she ever spent. You wouldn't be saying that if you ever spent twenty bucks getting your brows waxed, Beth. Holy mono-brow, Batman!
Beth, Jon, and Glen tape the copies of Aaron's picture everywhere -- and I mean everywhere -- in the house: under the toilet lid, on the TV screen, inside the pantry, on the side of the milk carton, at the bottom of a shoe box -- everywhere. For once, the B/M soundtrack mavens make me laugh, as they have chosen the seminal early nineties hit "Rico Suave" to accompany this Xerox-taping montage. It's funny. I chuckled. It will never happen again, I swear.
Beth says that she knew Aaron was going to flip when he saw all the pictures pasted everywhere, and that he was "going to feel like such a joey!" What does that even mean? Is that a Joey Tribbiani reference? I was down with the slang in '93. Where'd this "joey" thing come from?
Beth says the picture stands for everything Aaron "claims he's against."
Enter Aaron. He notices all the pictures, smiles, puts his hand over his mouth, and shakes his head and laughs. "You guys suck," he laughs. Beth laughs. Jon laughs. Aaron wanders around the house, looking at the many replications of his smiling face. He grins. "That is such a burn!" he says, good-naturedly.
In an interview, Beth crows that she "burned him. [She] burned him bad." Guess what, Beth? If the burnee gives you credit for burning him, the burn is not really as burnilious as you had, perhaps, intended.
Beth claps her hands like a seal.
Aaron repeats that this is a huge, huge burn. Noted, Aaron. He's smiling. He seems slightly embarrassed, but he's taking it with good grace. Where is the screaming? The throwing of chairs? The tearing of hair?
In an interview, Dom says that Aaron "shit a brick," but that he set himself up for the burn. Um, I totally do not see Aaron shitting anything, dude. Nice try, B/M, but I'm not buying this whole "Aaron freaks out" shtick. I'd also like to point out that Aaron hails from a frat that, during my junior year, got nailed for slipping roofies into girls' drinks during a Greek trip to Mexico. As far as dirty tricks go, this one is a walk in the freaking park, yo.
Aaron says he wanted to tell his roommates about his modeling career, but he wasn't sure how to work it into conversation without sounding like a total Steve Stunning. He laughs, takes the calendar from Beth, and tells the crowd that while he "sold [his] soul to the devil, it was for a good cause."
Tami says she didn't expect Aaron to get as angry as he did. Which, from what I've seen, is not at all.
Downstairs, Aaron perches on the kitchen table, looking at all the paper Beth wasted for her teeny, tiny, teensy little burn. Upstairs on the landing, the rest of the roommates and what looks like the entire crew -- seriously, like five guys with a boom mike, and a camera, and some lighting -- look down on him as he shakes his head pseudo-solemnly. "You guys just raped me," he cracks. Wow, if that burned anyone, I'd have to say it was Beth "David Is A Rapist" S.
Dom asks Aaron if he was drunk when he took the picture. Aaron leans back on the table and calls Dom an asshole. In a very unmad way. Dom claims that he just now found out about Project Burn Aaron, which appears to be true, considering the fact that he was not on the Kinko's run.
Dom, in an interview, says he thought the entire thing was funny, and that he explained to Aaron that there was no way he was going to be able to protect him from Beth's wrath. Or, "wrath."
Later, Aaron, who finally seems slightly irritated (like, less irritated than I get when I receive a parking ticket, but more irritated than I get when my office runs out of Hazelnut non-dairy creamer, and I have to use French Vanilla), tells the gang that it's nice how much enjoyment they get out of making fun of others. Oh, whatever, Aaron. I'd come up with some snide comment about how hypocritical that statement is, except for the fact that I think Aaron is just annoyed because he's taken the joke in such good stride, and now no one will let it go, which, coming from a group of sarcastic, and joke-minded friends, I can understand. It's time for everyone to laugh, hug, and forget it. Besides, it's more fun for me to make fun of Beth than it is to make fun of Aaron. It's also much, much easier.
Beth, upstairs, tells Jon that Aaron can't handle being the butt of a joke because it's never happened to him before. Ahem. Aaron appears to be laughing this off. How ought he to handle it, Beth? By grabbing you and kissing you and making sweet, sweet love to you?
Downstairs, Aaron tells the masses that it's now officially his personal mission to make them all pay by digging up shit in their pasts and revealing it to all and sundry in a humiliating manner. Well, that's basically what he says, but he uses less syllables.
Finally, Aaron gets a little mad. Mostly, I think, because he's embarrassed and wants everyone to drop this entire thing. But, naturally, Beth doesn't know when to let the joke die. Of course, all Aaron basically does is insist that he didn't know how to tell them about it, and he's embarrassed, and he wants to stop talking about it. Yeah, what a stunning display of rage. Not.
In an interview, Aaron says that the joke "burned him good." But that he can take it "like a man. Pretty much." Ha! Sorry, Aaron amuses me. Also, he hates Beth and I hate Beth and the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Aaron takes down all the copies.
That night, in bed, Aaron pecks Dom goodnight (not really), and playfully ribs him about not sticking up for him about the photo. They both laugh as Aaron turns out the light. Yes, that was a shocking display of righteous anger! Shocking, shocking, shocking!
God, this episode just WILL NOT END. Irene still has to get married. But sit tight because we get to watch the preparations! They're fascinating if you live to watch people blow-dry their hair.
We learn that Tim is wearing green Docs with his suit. Yawn.
Irene's family all has the same hair. Snore.
Aaron is standing around his bedroom with his shirt off, all wet from the shower. I'm finding it hard to concentrate. Aaron, for me, is one of those guys who, if I knew him personally, I would loathe, but at the same time, I would really want to jump. It's like the hate that's really love. Or something. Anyway, he, Jon, and Dom are discussing their ensembles for the wedding. No one cares.
Irene is wearing white cowboy boots under her wedding gown. I suddenly feel like I've fallen into an episode of A Wedding Story on The Learning Channel.
Everyone is ready to leave for the ceremony: dressed, pressed, reading the directions. Beth? STILL IN BED. Dude, I would leave her sorry ass. Being late to a wedding because you were in bed until noon is the height of rudeness. Being late because you got lost on the way to the church, or because the church is fifty miles away, and it's raining harder than you've ever seen it rain in California, and you're not 100% sure of where you're going, and because, in the car, you get into a discussion with your date for the wedding (someone who recently broke your heart), about all the reasons he didn't want to be your boyfriend, all because the person in the backseat, your friend and his roommate, stupidly made a comment about a certain girl the date had slept with, and about whom the rest of us weren't supposed to know, except the date had confided in my roommate who couldn't keep a secret anymore and told everyone, that's one thing. But because you're sleeping? That's rude. Not that I would know, or anything.
Beth beautifies while the rest of them wait for her. Aaron threatens to leave her there. LEAVE HER, AARON.
Beth can't find her shoes and bitches as they head out the door that her hair is still wet. THEN GET UP IN TIME TO DRY IT, PRINCESS! Gawd.
They drive to the wedding. Have you ever been on the freeway? Then I don't need to describe this scene.
In one of the cars, Dom asks Tami if she "can envision or even THINK about what the man [she's] going to marry" will be like. "I need to know," he says. Tami laughs and says she just needs someone who knows when to agree with her. Hey, Tami has a lot of problems -- like, she's completely insane, for example -- but at least she's honest.
And this is where we learn what kind of person each of the roommates sees themselves marrying.
Jon wants to marry "someone who's going to make me happy." Aw, that's so sweet and naïve. In reality, the person you marry, from what I have observed, makes you happy but also drives you crazy a lot of the time. ["That's damn right." -- Wing Chun]
Dom's bride-to-be? Young. Attractive. Free. Slutty. (I just inferred the last bit.)
Beth's only requirement is that her hubby not use drugs. Thanks for that, Nancy Reagan. Beth, I think a man would have to be ON drugs in order to even consider binding himself to you for all eternity.
Irene, in an interview, tells us that Jon said "the sweetest thing." He told her not to marry Tim and to marry him instead. Your "sweet," Irene, is my "psychotic stalker."
Church. Have you ever been to a wedding or seen one on TV? Then I don't need to describe it. Other than to say that the programs for the wedding are Pepto-Bismol pink, read "Together for Life," and make me vomit. That could be the Jack and Coke, but I think it's the program.
Oh, all right. All of Irene's bridesmaids are in fuchsia two-piece long dresses, which they will never wear again, and which one or two of them may even, at some point, burn. Irene marches down the aisle with her dad to the same song they play at the beginning of Masterpiece Theatre, and I think the fact that I can recognize the Masterpiece Theatre theme in, like, two seconds, more than makes up for the fact that I don't know what it's called. Her dress is like the foufiest, cheesiest, fluffiest wedding dress ever. It has bows. It has sequins. It has pearls. It has lace. It has beading. It is Too Much. I see myself in something much simpler, much sleeker, much more "my husband, Scott Speedman, took me to Vera Wang and let me charge a little something on his Am Ex Platinum."
Dom says Irene looked beautiful. And, truly, despite the dress, and the hair, and the unfortunate shade of lipstick, she does. Because she's a bride. And they generally look beautiful, because they're all glow-y and whatnot. I start to weep into my cocktail.
Jon declares that, at Irene's wedding, he couldn't help thinking about his own future wedding. To the Queen of Country, LeAnn Rimes! Okay, he didn't say that, and thank God, because in 1993, LeAnn Rimes was, like, ten, but you know that's the kinda gal Jon wants. A little bit country, and a little bit...more country.
Dom says that he thinks Irene will treat Tim "real good." You know Dom's a real softy, deep down. I think he's drunk, too.
Vows. Tim and Irene claim to love, honor, and cherish.
Dom voice-overs that he hopes Irene and Tim are happy for the rest of their lives. And, he says, "with God's blessing, they will be." Okay, Dom is totally warming my heart right now. I know it's not the booze. I can tell the difference between booze and love. Usually.
Reception. Tim enters the party wearing a sombrero, and it only gets worse. This is like the reception from hell. Everyone seems to be having fun, but not only does the Hokey-Pokey make an appearance, the Funky Chicken also is prominently featured.
Everyone dances. The roommates do seem to be having a great time dancing and goofing off. Who am I to judge, after all? Just a single girl in a one-bedroom apartment where the heater doesn't work. And who do I have to warm my cold and lonely bed? No one. No. One. Would not I rather be doing the Funky Chicken, at my own nuptials, if it meant that I could roll over and snuggle with Scott Speedman? God, where do I get the strength to go on living? How do I get out of bed everyday and get dressed and go to work, knowing that my life is EMPTY and MEANINGLESS? I ask you, HOW?
Look what this show is doing to me. Just take a long look. It's not pretty, is it?
Rubber chicken is served.
Dom and Aaron have beers. I've had eight. I'd have nine if I could find the bottle opener and I hadn't broken the edges off my front teeth opening the last one.
Jon looks, in Beth's words, "crushed" that Irene has left them. He does look morose. You're eighteen, Jon. There are going to be tons of other girls for you to mope over. Get over it.
Tim and Irene dance to a song that Tim wrote and recorded for her. I'd be all touched and shit, except for the fact that the song sucks ass.
Jon stands in a corner and watches the happy couple, looking blue. Aaron voice-overs that Jon is having a hard time letting Irene go. We. Get. It.
Tami voice-overs that Jon really wanted to cry at Irene's wedding, and not from joy. Beth says she felt sorry for Jon. Tami concludes that Jon had fallen in love with Irene, and that while he was happy for her, "he, too, loved her in a different way." Tami sounds like she's reading off the back of a Harlequin novel. Beth voice-overs that Jon wants a girl just like Irene. A girl with a gun, I guess.
Jon sadly watches as Tim and Irene dance. A single tear runs down my cheek as I cry for myself, knowing that I have an entire additional tape of this dreck to slog through, and no one to run out to the liquor store for me when I run out of Jack Daniels in the middle of an episode.