
Big Brother is wrapping up, but the cheesy silliness of America's Next Top Model is already calling. I emailed my contact at UPN to ask if we can conduct interviews this cycle, and she enthusiastically responded that she remembered me and already had me on her list. It's nice to be remembered. The girl (Chelsea) sounds about thirteen years old on the phone; I picture her as fresh out of college with a Communications degree assigned to the lowest press contact position on the totem pole. It's not like the journalists are going to be trying to sneak in hardball questions.
Meanwhile, it's almost certain that Ivette or Maggie will win hundreds of thousands of dollars. Which is worse, the nurse who enjoys watching a patient "code" (i.e., go into cardiac arrest and die) or the young, immature Cubana who lives in her own insular existence of her shallow friends and their petty concerns?
What can I say about Maggie? She has vile personal habits, such as peeing on the toilet seat and not wiping it off for the next person. And yet, she doesn't feel comfortable using the same toilet as her fellow houseguests because they have germs. She says she's a nurse, but advises Ivette to put mayonaise on her burn. She thinks aspirin is evil. She thinks Janelle was lying about playing the flute of all things. She's got a lot to say about the people she hates, yet doesn't stand up for her own teammates when push comes to shove. In a conversation about the tragedy of Waco and the innocent children who were forced to live there as the offspring of cult members, she shrugged off their firey deaths, saying they were all "inbreeds" anyway. She isn't looking forward to going back to her job because she hates most of her patients, and is tired of "shoveling shit out of assholes." Oh, and her language is filthy; she routinely calls Janelle the C-word and refers to the bathroom as "the shitter." Lovely.
And then there's Ivette, who has turned out to be the most oddly intense houseguest since that guy who held a knife to another houseguest's throat. Ivette - well, this girl feels things deeply. Unfortunately, she thinks that gives her an excuse to act on every emotion that crosses that tiny brain of hers. Someone eats the ice cream before she gets to it? She's ready to burn the house down. She leaves her lotion in the bathroom and frets incessantly that one of the evil ones will notice it sitting there and tamper with it. She wins POV, and runs around the yard screaming "el tres final" and making an ass of herself humping the lounge chair cushions. When April tells her she's offended that Ivette would celebrate what amounts to April's demise (which is a bit snotty of April if you ask me - Ivette won fair and square), Ivette mopes, whines, and cries for hours. Yes, they had a verbal blowout, and Ivette can yap a mile a minute - but it was the endless aftermath of whining that truly defined Ivette as someone who just cannot see herself as having done something wrong.
What I really hate about Ivette, though, is her bigoted views about Kaysar. At her insistence, Kaysar sat down with her and discussed her problem with him. She told him that he didn't belong in the Big Brother house because he is devoutly religious. I'll spare you her arguments, but rest assured that they made no sense. I'm appalled that anyone growing up in the United States - which was founded on the principles of religious freedom - would espouse such a view. Add to her angry descriptions of Kaysar as, oh, a camel jockey would be the nicest epithet she liked to throw around, and you've got one ugly person. She and Eric had this bigotry in common; they liked to sit around and trash Kaysar, talk about burning the Koran, calling him Saddam and Osama. What's especially galling is that Kaysar had already shared one night in the house that his uncle had been killed by Saddam Hussein in a particularly horrific manner. The Republican Guard left his body on their doorstep with a bill pinned to his jacket for the cost of the bullet that killed him. So nicknaming him after his uncle's killer takes a special kind of cold hardedness that I'm glad I've never encountered in real life. Kudos (I guess) to BB for flushing out the worst cockroaches of humanity imaginable on this season of Big Brother.