Mrs Filthy's Real World Review


October 30, 2001

Chock Full O' Notes

Race. Sex. Emotional problems. A cappella music. These are the big issues that this season of "The Real World" is supposed to be dealing with. I know, I know, dearies, you've been wondering, "But where's all the doo-wopping and be-bopping I've been promised? The nation needs to know more about this vital and relevant topic!" Well, wait no longer, mes amis, this gripping subject has finally been tackled in a serious and thorough manner.

Lori has been performing with an a cappella group called "The Bostonians," ever since she was a freshman at Boston College. Now that she's a senior, she has to sing a final concert with the group and bid them au revoir. She's sad to be leaving this little musical cocoon and wonders where she'll ever have that sense of community that only a bunch of music geeks can provide. You know what I mean, darlings, those "Music is my bag!" people. Now that's a blood-curdling Halloween scare for you!

Anyway, in her preparations for the big day, she's so high strung that she's driving everybody crazy. She's humming at work (almost as big a no-no as sampling your coworkers' lunches), trying to get every last "doo doo doo doo" down pat. I'm not kidding, her lyric sheet actually reads, "doo doo doo doo." But, I suppose it's important to get the "doos" in the correct order, my little pumpkins!

She's still not exactly sure what song she'll sing for her last solo, since she's put the decision off for four years. She's in the thick of emotional turmoil, so crazy with stress that she actually describes "The Bostonians" as "99% of my life!" And on top of all that, she's organizing a little weekend getaway for her housemates to see her perform in Beantown. This gives her a whole new host of worries: getting everybody packed and ready, getting to the college on time, preparing her final song.

Now, since Lori is a Boston College student, I supposed that meant that she actually had to live in the Boston area. But that certainly doesn't stop her from getting lost, and getting all her housemates lost, too. Time is running out, and when they finally reach the hotel, Lori drives smack into the concierge's car. She dashes off to Boston College in a tizzy, leaving destruction in her wake. That, my friends, is what a cappella music does to the brain.

But, it all must be worthwhile, because Lori gets up on that stage and belts out some Aretha, and cries and hugs everybody, and then sings some Sarah McLaughlan song in her characteristic rumbly warble. Then she cries and hugs some more and looks for validation from everyone in the room. Malik is impressed by Lori's stage presence, "She looks like she belongs up there." Better there than singing in the house while he's trying to talk on the phone, sweeties! Lori feels like the hall is "Full of love. The windows are bursting." Or, maybe that's just the effect of her high C.

Besides all her vocal noodling, Lori still has free time to be wrapped up in Kevin. Kevin and the other guys have declared their female housemates as sister-material, which means they're only fit to throw bugs at and call "Stinky-Butt." Lori, although she protests, would still like to catch Kevin's eye. Kevin, however, has his eagle eye on a eagle-nosed model he met at karaoke. Sacre bleu, how would you explain that to the grandkids?

Anyway, Kevin seems to like Beth because she's pretty (she's been in Maxim), and she doesn't really express herself about anything in particular. She just nods while he's talking, and that's all he requires in a girl. He brags that they can "finish each other's sentences," but doesn't stop to think that that may be because they're both so dull and predictable.

Lori, of course, hears the mere rumors of all this canoodling, and is immediately envious, even if she tries to keep her cool. She pumps Malik for data, then she "just happens" to be in the same bar as the snuggling Kevin and Beth (there's your second Halloween scare, my loves). Then she goes home and tells Coral that Kevin's new sweetie "isn't that cute." Me-Ow! She thought her life in New York would mirror "Sex in the City," but she's only experiencing "Mean Streets."

Kevin and Beth's relationship hurtles along, and Kevin realizes that they only have one more month to enjoy each other's company. He doesn't want a long distance relationship, though, and when he tries to tell Beth this, he strings so many prepositions together that he could be talking about pizza, about shampoo. Beth says she understands, but she might be thinking about pizza and shampoo, too. Then Kevin worries that Beth has fallen for his Docker-clad fanny too hard- how big and noble of him! He's already looking forward to all the "hot girls" at UT "who always want to party." How can a poor little super-model compete with that?

Who's Shirtless: The slug-a-bed guys are all shirtless at one point or another.

Who Cries: Lori cries at her last concert with the Bostonians, and so do some of the other Bostonians. These singing people are so easily moved by themselves!

Most Annoying: Kevin describes Lori as a "drama queen," and she's never fit the term better than tonight.

Best Quote: Lori describes the Kevin-Beth couple, "They look related." It's disturbing, because it's true.

Spooky Sighting: Coral's head on Mike's shoulder eeek!

Next Week: We experience a major identity crisis, courtesy of Rachel, and Malik falls for former Road Ruler Jisela.

Want to tell Mrs. Filthy something?

This Week, Mrs. Filthy's Reading:

The Devil in Massachusetts by Marion Starkey