I was at this liveshow. I WAS at this liveshow. I was AT this liveshow. I was at THIS liveshow. Um, I was at this LIVESHOW! Okay, enough. There’s so much emphasis I can put on each word.
I have learned so much about Idool 2011 in one night. Perhaps more than I ever wanted to know. Maybe even too much. I don’t actually know where to begin so I guess I’ll start from the morning of the liveshow.
My mother-in-law aka “mijn schoonmoeder” (I don’t understand why it’s “schoon” meaning “clean”…I mean my mother-in-law IS clean and very sweet but I still don’t get the Dutch/English translation) came over to my house at 9 in the morning to help remove wallpaper in my kitchen. My husband and I just moved and we’re doing lots of work on the house. Anyway…about an hour into the work I hear a waterfall coming down my stairs. The boiler DIED and almost EXPLODED and KILLED us and well, for the next 24 hours I had no water.
No water. Meaning, I would either go to the liveshow smelling like old wallpaper or I would have to find somewhere to take a shower, etc. and get clean (ahem, “schoon”) before I left for Idool. I will leave out other ugly details but you can figure it out yourself. Do the math: No Water + No Flushing The Toilet = YUCK. Sigh. Ironically, I went to my “other” schoonmoeder’s house (yes, I have two…don’t ask, I just do) and got all prettied up and voila, I was off to the liveshow!
What struck me first when I arrived to the set was that there was, like, NO security. There was one cute dude with a clipboard directing traffic more than doing security and that was it. Did I mention he was kinda cute? Young (meaning to young for me), but cute.
I guess Belgians DO indeed do it differently!
In America, there’s no way we’d just be able to smile and drive onto the studio lot without giving our bloodtype and possibly providing a criminal background check (I’m kidding of course, but security is SUPER tight in the U.S.).
Devon, the idool who was eliminated the last show was just standing there looking all shy and TOTALLY not like a “celebrity”. And I have to say. Devon did NOT deserve all the shit I wrote about him. Not ALL. Some. But not all. And this is as close to an apology you will get from me so…relax.
He was SUCH a sweetheart and took TWO pictures with me (I didn’t like my smile in the first picture we took so I made him take another one with me). He really is a nice kid and not egotistical at all. Poor thing. I hope he gets a job singing at some birthday parties soon.
So, as we all (except my American readers) know, the show starts at 8:45 in the evening (“om 20:45″ for the Belgians, and yes I realize I did not have to translate that but I like using what basic Niveau 1 Dutch I have learned so far).
We were told to be on set by 7:00.
I was there at 6:42, my momz would have been proud.
I get my timeliness from her although she is a BIGGER freak than I am about being places early (i.e. she insists on getting to the airport like four freaking hours in advance “just in the case, you know?” she says in broken English).
But seriously, being early WAS good for getting a good spot when they finally let us in, NOT worth standing in this insane crowd of hobbits.
Not only did the producers make us wait until 8:17 to let us in (which for me was 90 minutes of hell), I was surrounded by what seemed like thousands of teens (nothing against them, really, I used to be one) who really needed to start using deodorant. I understand most of them probably just started puberty, but really, their parents and teachers and fellow citizens (like me) need to take them to the store and get their armpits under control. I nearly died. Really. (Actually, I “nearly die” at least once a week because I’m just…that…dramatic).
No, I’m just kidding. It was meeting Alyssa, the first idool to be eliminated weeks (feels like years) ago. I’m telling you. She wasn’t even the worst singer, but dumbass David Hasselhoff screwed it up for her and jinxed her. (Proof)
Poor Alyssa. Alyssa, if you’re reading, you were so sweet to all your fans waiting…and thank you for taking a picture with me. And do yourself a favor and take it easy with the makeup. You’re such a pretty girl, you really don’t need inches of foundation and fake lashes. You are a natural beauty.
So at 8:17 they herded us like cows ten at a time and I swear I almost got trampled by all the younger and stronger teens around me. But I managed to secure a spot RIGHT IN FRONT of the judges and jury box.
RIGHT BETWEEN the stage and the judges. Sweet.
And then I obviously stood for another 2+ hours during the show. Not sweet. I’m too old for this. My almost-36 year old ass can’t just stand in heels looking cute for four hours without bitching about it.
And it was fucking hot in there. But I was still enjoying myself because I knew all of it would make for a good blog. This blog, in case you were wondering where the “good blog” was. Right here.
I have no idea how this dude (who I’m assuming is a producer for Idool) had the stamina to run around and get the crowd hyped up. I was just filming the whole time.
All the screaming was NOT me by the way. It’s the girl who was standing to my right during the whole show. The same girl who made me go deaf in my right ear. If we were in America I’d get my lawyer to draft a letter to start a lawsuit, but here in Belgium I hear “suing” people isn’t very common…or cool…so I’m gonna let my deaf-in-one-ear thing go and not sue. Sigh.
This is where I will let you in on a little secret. I have a crush on Jean Blaute. Not the kind where I want to make sweet love to him, no, but more like I want to sit on his lap and ask him to buy me some Louis Vuitton luggage. He’s adorable. And we’ve been tweeting for weeks now (Feel Free To Follow Me) and he was expecting me. So HOW excited was I when he came on stage and saw me and got all happy and poked Koen sitting next to him to say “Hey! I know her! We talk on Twitter!”?!?!?!
OMG. I totally peed my panties I was so excited. And then Jean GOT DOWN ON HIS STOMACH and took this picture with me. What a rockstar he is. Sigh. I heart Jean Blaute. His outfits are always so adorable.
And who cares if his glasses are thick enough to start a forest fire in the middle of winter? I think he’s just swell.
Ik hou van Jean Blaute! (Usually I replace “Jean Blaute” with my husband’s name “Davy” but it’s okay, Davy is cool with my craziness)
I have highlighted my strategic location in front of Jean here. ”ME” which is my favorite word in the world.
Jean and I exchanged winks the entire liveshow and I could feel his love for me, really I could. I mean, Kato and Manuel aren’t the only ones who can feel love you know?
Jean, if you’re reading, I prefer the LV monogram canvas for my luggage, but if you want to send me something in damier, that’s okay too!
I have to say that the studio was WAY smaller in real life than what it looks like on television. Which I should have known, considering I was on Big Brother back in the US and the house we lived in was TINY compared to the way it looked on tv. But then again, we all looked a lot taller too even though most of us were super short in real life. (Btw, I’m the one standing on the left in blue in the video below. OR, the only Asian. Whichever works for you)
By the time the hair and makeup people came out for the judges I was ready to faint. It was SO warm in the studio and I was really hoping Jean would throw a bottle of water at me. But I realized that wouldn’t happen. Besides, the judges got nice tall glasses of cold water, not bottles.
I was beginning to wonder if I had a water curse on me…first at home in the morning with the boiler drama and then at Idool where it felt like a desert.
Oh, and my apologies to the hair and makeup girl. It’s not like I was TRYING to take pictures of your ass but I didn’t really have a choice given where I was standing. You DO have a cute ass though.
But I didn’t really look at his ass too much because my nostrils were so overwhelmed by the smell of fresh leather coming from his shoes everytime he walked behind me.
Nice shoes Koen. Italian? They smelled like good Italian leather.
And nice job hosting…and reading the teleprompter.
I’ve never read from one, I’ve only memorized lines for television or just just good old fashioned reality show improv. (My IMDB)
And since I’m obsessed with body parts right now. I’d like to add that Sylvia “I’m Pregnant then Not Pregnant” Van Driessche looked BEAUTIFUL. She is gorgeous in person, red lips and all.
Her boobs looked GI-NORMOUS last night. Maybe she IS pregnant?! I want her bra. I want my boobs to look like that.
And in general, ALL the judges looked great in person. It’s funny, most stars look better in real life. Like me. I’m also very humble. NOT.
Ray Cokes. He was funny and direct and brutally honest to the point of vulgar. And well, he’s my kind of guy.
He’s a former VJ for MTV Europe. And he totally rocked. Considering I understood every word of what he was saying in his HEAVY British accent, I was laughing my pretty little head off while everyone else was either booing him or ignoring him. Ray, you were awesome. And when you said “Who the hell is Alexis Jordan?” I nearly had an orgasm. Because she SUCKED ass last week. (Seriously)
What a disappointment that the two “guest judges” from America were so L-A-M-E. Or in Dutch, S-L-E-C-H-T. I don’t think that’s a direct translation, but whatevs, you guys get it.
And…drumroll please…after what seemed like 17 years of waiting, the liveshow kicked off. And we saw Brian May from Queen wishing the contestants the best of luck and also inviting them to Antwerp for a “Best of Queen” concert. Lucky mofos. I would LOVE to see Queen!
And the whole time I’m listening to Brian May i’m thinking “OMG he and Maureen have the same hair!!!”
I could barely focus when the contestants came out with their opening act, “We Will Rock You”, which they totally butchered just like the time they sang Michael Borsato’s “Rood” which means “Red” for all my American readers, but actually it was just plain “RUDE” what they did to his song on Liveshow 4. They butchered it. Ugh. (More Proof)
And then they butchered Queen:
And to think I had another 2 hours to stand…