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Lights! Camera! Action!: Ithaca College TV Lampoons Cornell

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It seems that Cornell has received its fair 15 minutes of television fame lately, what with Dwight’s Cornell-centric Office antics a few weeks ago. But Andy Bernard ’95 is only one fictional alumnus of our humble university. On Monday, Ithaca College TV debuted a new show, Ivy, which stars all of us—in a way.
The show, according to co-producer Rachel Hastings, an Ithaca sophomore, is “kind of a faux-reality show, like Laguna Beach, but written as a dry comedy and set at Cornell.” Aided by co-producer Ed Pietzak, a senior at I.C., Hastings wrote a script over the summer and set out to produce a truly unique project.

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With Carrie and Co. Gone, What's a Girl To Do?

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Let’s all stop for a moment, and take a break from our busy lives to ruminate on the importance of Chick-Flick TV. Since the sad passing of Sex & the City, us mourners have been forced to don black Manolos while we search for something else to fill our sexless void. We left no remote unturned, no TV screen unlit. Dedicated in our quest, we traveled painstakingly from one estrogen saturated show to the next.

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Even the Sex Is Better in London

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I’m gonna go out on a limb here and just say this: I am not against prostitution. In fact, I think it should be legalized.
There, I said it. Some of you may have gasped, because the idea of anyone selling sex for money sounds preposterous. Some of you probably rolled your eyes, hopefully because you don’t find it all that shocking but think I’m being melodramatic. Some of you probably aren’t really paying attention. Still, there you go. I have put it out there, in print and on the internet. It’s permanent, and it can’t be erased. Luckily, I don’t want to go into politics or be a nun.

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Livin' the California Dream, Boobs and All

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Showtime really messed up the other day, for which I am ecstatically grateful: when my roommates and I went to watch our On Demand, ready-for-viewing copy of the Californication premiere, there was not one but two episodes of Californication in my On Demand box. Two. As in: the premiere and next week’s, not aired yet episode. Showtime, I love you, and I promise to not say anything bad about you for at least another 3 to 6 months.
I was so excited about this that I called my mom to tell her (my life is not very exciting these days).
“Mom, guess what!”
“One of your stories got picked up by The New York Times?” (She likes to dream big.)
“Noooo … Showtime screwed up and gave us the second episode of Californication.”