Genoa City was home to a miracle to end all miracles yesterday, when Victoria Newman came out of her paper mache caused coma, ending months of awkward, fabricated stories being told to her unconscious form. Don't let her blank stare, JT's confused "...who?" expression or Nikki's half-hearted tears fool you, it was actually good news.
Especially when one considers that her family abandoned all hope of modern medicine aiding her recovery in any way. Her room was filled with lots of official medical apparatuses, but...she wasn't actually hooked up to any of them. They were like four feet away from her.
It's as if they just said to themselves (and I would not fault them for doing so), "Well, she's been in a coma for months after being beaned in the head with a ball of Styrofoam. If she hasn't recovered now, she's not going to, so why are we even bothering?"
So that happened.
I feel like I was supposed to be supremely affected by the entire thing, but I wasn't. And let me tell you something, there are few people in the world who get teary eyed more easily than me. So the fact that this late-January miracle left me cold says volumes about how anti-climactic it was. There are three possibilities:
- It was kind of lame that she got out of the coma as quickly as she went into it and that after a couple of minutes of discombobulation she was fine.
- Amelia Heinle, lovely though she may be, just does not work as Victoria and reads as some random character who doesn't know how to apply lipstick properly. There's no there there. She's so bland, which Victora Effing Newman never should be.
- In the interest of fairness, it's entirely possible that I've become dead inside, a predicament that I will no doubt try to blame on Lynn Marie Latham, Jill Farren Phelps or a combination of the two.
Or maybe I was just distracted by the fact that the entire episode was Cleavage on Parade...
because, seriously, I felt like a perve whenever Nikki and Sharon were on screen.
It was incredibly distracting. Not quite distracting enough to distract me from my nemesis, Sharon Case's Hair, though. Not Sharon Case herself, as I quite like her, but that hair. Damn. Did you guys see a few issues ago in Soap Opera Digest, they asked her what she did to keep her hair looking so lustrous? She gave some BS about deep conditioning and anti-frizz when we all know that her hair is plastic. We're onto you, Sharon! What the hell is with this style? It looks so short and almost like you can imagine it being human hair, or at least hair from a horse, here:
and, if you're like me, you rejoice for a minute until she turns and you're like "Oh. Still trying to make that happen, Shar? Well it's not going to happen."
Even with that tragic hair-don't, Sharon wasn't the worst victim of hair and wardrobe related shenanigans, because Gloria was dressed like...I don't know. She defies explanation.
There are four things I know for sure: (1)Just because one of your late husbands was a cosmetics magnate doesn't mean you need to wear all of his company's products at once (2) Skinning a muppet for your clothing is cruel (3)That much hairspray could singlehandedly give the entire population of one of the Dakotas cancer (4) Clip-on cubic zirconia earrings will never be okay.
And what's with Kevin looking like he just walked off the set of the movie version of Leave it to Beaver?
I am hating the fact that Gloria gets half of the Abbott mansion. Hating! And I'm hating the feeling I'm getting that Jeff is going to accidentally poison himself with the poison Kevin and Gloria are buying to frame him for Gloria's attempted murder. They won't go down that road again, will they? They can't, right? All of this woman's husbands can't keep dropping like flies without the town finally realizing that she's a shady, gold-digging criminal.
I do have to say, though, that I'm intrigued by the idea that Sharon is the person to notice that there's something off about the relationship between Gloria and Jeff. I look forward to seeing her go all Nancy Drew and having Jack's back in this situation. Jack needs someone to have his back!