Watch Out, Simon Cowell, Here I Come

I'm sad that I won't get to see Paula's drunken antics, but seeing Simon will more than make up for it.

I love Simon Cowell. He's blunt to the point of rudeness, and he doesn't care a fig for what other people think about him. He also happens to be very good at what he does, and no matter how many people boo his opinions on American Idol, he most often turns out to be right. He's my American (ok, British) idol, and in two weeks I get to see him in the flesh!

Okay, that was only half a lie. Simon Cowell will not be appearing before me in his birthday suit, nor am I going to be near enough to him to even see much of his flesh, but I will be in the same theater as Simon and Randy and Kara and Ellen and Shakira and the American Idol contestants, because I'm going to the American Idol finals.

Yes, you heard me right, I'm going to the American Idol finals!

Cue wild screaming and American Idol theme song.

Last week was a great week for me; I won some really nice random prizes, received a kickass Mother's Day present (check out this post to see my loot), and best of all, got enough of my readers to help me win a blogger contest sponsored by Cafe Press. The prize was a trip for two to LA, hotel accommodations and tickets to the final performance and results show on May 25 and 26. I don't even know how one gets tickets to these shows, and even if I did I probably wouldn't be able to afford them -- and now I have two! I'm taking my sister (Alfie decided he didn't want to waste spare two vacation days watching American Idol, and I have to admit I'm kind of grateful to him for that, since I get to have a fun trip with my sister before she packs up and leaves California).

If only I were actually following American Idol this season.

Um, yeah, that's one tiny detail that I have to mention. I've been an American Idol fan since Season 1, but I've added so many shows to my evening tv program that I had to start dropping some of them, and American Idol was one of the victims. So I've been keeping tabs on the contestants but haven't gotten emotionally invested in them like I did before (the memory of Daughtry being cut still hurts like a knife, but since he came out on top I'm not holding any grudges against Taylor Hicks or the Soul Patrol). That's not going to keep me from enjoying myself to the max, though. I'm still excited as hell at the prospect of hearing the contestants sing live (I'm sure it's going to be a different experience from seeing it on tv), watching Shakira perform, and going celebrity watching.

And of course, there's Simon Cowell. At this point I have no idea where I'll be sitting, but I hope he'll be close enough to read the glitter-glue, strobe-light I LOVE YOU SIMON sign I'll be waving. Even if he doesn't, maybe the cameras will focus on it and everyone watching at home will be able to shout and scream, "That's Bonggamom!"

I can't wait!