But you'll never catch me watching Emeril

Being home with a cold isn't all bad, save the comments from the co-workers that "you sound like a frog" on the phone and the fact that you, per usual, only have diet coke and wine in the fridge and don't want to venture out given that you haven't showered in two full days. Cricket is spending an awful lot of time in the bedroom and I have my suspicions that Mommy needs to spruce herself up a little.

I've been catching up on a quite a bit of live and Tivo'd television during the active life hiatus, and have been dying to share some observations with you . . .

Who are these people? Ellen Degeneres devoted several minutes today to viewer artwork sent in to the show. As she introduced the segment, I'm thinking of the creators as students who want to find footing with famous folk or possibly cool, knitting grandmas who crafted purses or macrame owls or some such crazy things. Come to find out that crazy doesn't quite mean what I thought it would; Ellen produced from these "fans" at least a dozen items, including wooden bowls containing her watercolored face, and many, many odd paintings, and one sculpture that may or may not have been made from pure creamery butter. Disturbing to begin with.

Yet most confusing was Ellen's overwhelmingly positive reaction to receiving these, uh, gifts. I must admit, should I have gotten something like any of the above in the mail, I'd be thinking, a) restraining order against the ex-boyfriend, or b) "he's calling from inside the house!!!" or most likely c) slobbering peeping Tom perched n*ked over his pottery wheel while mumbling "precious . . . precious" over my clay likeness. Not cool. Am I right? People?

Who are they trying to reel in with this crap? As the Sentra still refuses to pass DC Inspection, I'm left actually paying attention to car commercials when they air rather than thinking about whether Bill Gates and his wife have consummated their union as of yet, or something else vastly more interesting than the automobile. But this whole thing with Volkswagon really boggles the mind. Who the hell is going to jump up and buy a VW because they are giving away a guitar with every purchase? Is this a teen stoner demographic of which I'm clearly not a part? Because I'm pretty sure most people my age would rather get socks, or coupons for free Wendy's Frosties, or a signed Alyssa Milano poster than a freaking guitar they plug into the outlet formerly known as the lighter. I'm just saying.

Although lovely, Jill Hennessy is just not a good actress. There really just isn't much more to say about that.

There is a train wreck worse than ABC's The View, and it resides on NBC. iVillage Live, billed as "an interactive talk show for women that looks at topics like beauty, parenting, fashion and food" is a great concept in theory, but on screen resembles grown Mouseketeers given a camera and a T-1 line. These people were so animated and so perky and so happy to be awake, it felt a little bit like cotton candy had exploded in my face. And it wasn't very tasty.

Everyone on CBS soap operas is still amazingly hot, despite it having been at least five years, seven kidnappings and three exorcisms since I last watched any of the afternoon lineup. Nikki, I'm not sure what you're doing to keep yourself so well preserved, but it's working for you, kiddo. Jabot should consider actually marketing that stuff.

Watching the Top Chef marathon without leaving the couch will make you want to be a better cook. Nay, a better person. I'm not sure what sort of crack they're putting in that show - either beautiful season of this reality series - but I could use an extra helping of it. There is backstabbing, there is drinking, there is really ugly food made of squid ink and pomegranate that you know just can't be filling without a side loaf of bread, there is name calling and there is sex in the walk in. Well, not that last one, but it's only a matter of time, people. All of it, down to the "pack your knives" and go on back to your job at Applebees rejection line, it's just all good. By the end of my sixth consecutive episode I had downloaded a dozen new recipes to print out and then promptly forget about, looked up part-time cooking schools in my area, and fed the cats "le kibble with a tuna reduction" twice.

But I still haven't showered.