I am very much bummed out by the results of last night's finale of "The Next Food Network Star."

As a newbie to the Food Network, I got sucked into this show immediately. I am not obsessed with reality shows in general, but I love the ones that have a point. (For example, "American Idol" produces a number of singers who put out songs I am bound to like — unless your name is Katharine McPhee, aka Skanky McPhony.) So a competition where cooks compete for their own cooking show was right up my alley.

As I mentioned here before, I was originally drawn to the Mighty Duck Girl, because those movies make up one great trilogy. Once I realized she had zero take-charge presence — and cooked way too many vegetables for my taste — I looked around. I wanted to like Paul, but I found him to be a little too catty.

I moved on to Rory and Jag, because I loved their personalities. Rory started off a little klutzy, but she cooked "real food for real people," and those steaks she grilled looked AMAZING. Then there was military boy Jag, and I liked that he was a bit on the raw side and that he used his name as a verb.

When it got down to the final three, my two guys were in it! All they had to do was beat boring shi-shi Amy, and we were good as gold. They do the final challenge — 5-minute demonstrations on "Rachael Ray" — and Rory and Jag put so much life into it that I know they're in. Amy makes some French thing that must have translated into "chewed-up vomit." If she's trying to turn me on to French food, it ain't working.

Elimination time. Obnoxious Bobby Flay lets Rory know that her Backyard Bistro is through to the finals. Then it's down to Jag and Amy. And AMY GETS CUT! Woohoo! All is well in my TV-viewing land.

Until the show comes back from commercial.

Oh, Jag, how could you have lied about your military travels and your culinary education? He takes himself out of the running. Who comes back? Amy. Who wants Elvis-face coming back for her own blah show? Not me, that's for sure.

The public votes. I get in my votes for Rory.

The finale airs last night. Marc Summers hosts. (I think back to "Family Double Dare" days and how I so wanted to go on there and slime my parents and win the big grand prize of a 20-inch TV. Wait, people picked a nose for that?!?!) They show the ladies at home, and they totally should have shown these clips before, because Rory comes off as the person everyone in Texas loves and Amy comes off as someone who is in a cult. The other contestants come back. I try to remember who the bald guy was. (Oh yeah, boring Patrick.)

Then Emeril comes on and announces the winner. And the winner of "The Next Food Network Star" is…

Elvis-face.

She doesn't even smile. Rory is visibly upset. I get more mad at Jag because it's his fault. Bobby Flay tries to squeeze in and get more camera time, and it's annoying.

Now that Amy won, this Food Network newbie might be turned off from Food Network forever. Can anyone get me out of that rut?!