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Caffeine and Cabernet

Life from 9 to wine

A Tribute to American Idol

January 6, 2016

Some of you may not know this, but I get paid to watch television and write about it. It all started one day on Twitter…

I’ll spare you the details, but I was hormonal and bingewatching The Vampire Diaries and then I ended up with a gig covering American Idol. That was 2012.

I’d been #IdolSnark-ing for a season or two at that point, I can’t remember now, and then I was writing about the show.

Here I am five (or six) years later and my journey with this gig has only gotten better and more interesting and more rewarding and also more fun. (And more ugh as I get yelled at in the comments section at least once a week, but hey. Everyone’s a critic, right?)

I remember watching Phillip Phillips in his audition and calling him as the winner before the season had even really gotten started. Then I got hate mail/death threats because I wasn’t a Jessica Sanchez fan.

True story. All the angry-grams everywhere for that one!

So tonight is the premiere of American Idol Season 15, the final countdown, if you will, since the show is ending its run this April.

It’s time. For sure. It’s beyond time. Beyond.

It should’ve been time mid-way through the Nicki Minaj-Mariah Carey monstrosity. Seriously. Cut the feed. Fade to black. Get those two out of there and don’t look back. That goes down as the all-time worst season, particularly since producers stacked the deck in order to have a female winner. Candice Glover was/is great and she has some pipes, but man, that season was a train wreck.

But even though it’s time for Idol to end there’s something a little sad about it. I have a bond with American Idol since it brought me to this place in my life. Not that “this place in my life” is one that’s full of fame and fortune and whatever, but…well…I’m here. Here’s good. I like here.

And suddenly a post about American Idol feels like it’s getting way more existential and touchy-feely than I intended when I opened up this dashboard to blog tonight.

How weird.

I mean, it is weird. It’s one of the weirdest, wildest things that has ever happened to me. It’s something I would not under any circumstance change at all because hi I get paid to watch TV and write about it now and that’s always been my dream job.

Anyway.

This totally rambly, somewhat incoherent, nobody-will-read-this-except-my-mother post is really just my way of saying thanks, American Idol. Here’s to the final season.

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Get back to me after you experience postpartum hair loss that never grows back quite right and decide to re-embrace your hair’s natural texture and wave—which does not nicely lend itself to a butt cut (which I already attempted and survived in the 90s TYVM)—in the middle of a global pandemic because doing your hair every day is for the birds.

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