Reality TV Wasteland

I used to think I did not watch reality tv. By "used to" I mean up until last week. I thought that because I wasn't watching Survivor or Big Brother or Amazing Race that I wasn't watching any. Then I spent an entire Sunday sitting on my couch, without watching one show with an actual script. And it hit me. I AM a reality tv junkie. How did it happen? I can't say for sure. I have been sucked up into the vortex. Part of me is ashamed. But part of me just wants to talk about it. Like Twilight. Here are the ones I watch.

Keeping up with the Kardashians. They are actually wretched people. They traipse about LA and spend money and get into fights with each other and talk in gross ways about their lady parts. They have too much money and not enough things to care about. But, I love Bruce Jenner. I love Bruce Jenner like there's no tomorrow and I do not know why. Maybe it's because I love the Olympics or I like grown men who have little boy hobbies (collecting toy helicopters) or I don't know what, I just love him. Oh Bruiser.

The Biggest Loser. I basically want Bob to be my bff. I love him. Jillian is crazy and makes me uncomfortable when she's screaming in someone's face about their sister dying, but she's fun to watch. I like when she perches on a leg machine and makes them lift her. Sometimes, it makes me cry. But in a good way. Not the way I cry in my desk at work.

American Idol. Always and forever. But I miss Paula. She was so cracked out but I miss how she used to cry and slur her words and stand up and dance. Ellen is cool but she is so nice and no one can make fun of her because she is flawless. I just think maybe she should consider picking up a prescription drug habit because THAT was entertainment. Poor little Paula Abdul and her ugly necklaces and crazy face lifts. Kara though. She is annoying. I'm tired of her talking about people's "souls" and "feelings." Come on Kara, it's American Idol, they are trying to find a pop star. I can't think of one pop star who has a soul.

16 and Pregnant. I like to watch this show on a bad day. On a day when I'm feeling particularly particularly awful. I also like to watch it while I'm hungry or when I haven't showered in several days. It's just one of those things. I like to scream at the tv when the dead beat teenage baby daddy is cheating on the girl again. I especially like when an episode is set in the south. That makes for some good tv. Also a good way to remind yourself that it's better to keep your pants on when confronted by a boy coming off his 3rd DUI, who does not have teeth or a job. Because sometimes I need reminding.

Pretty Wild. I've only watched part of one episode and I don't really get it yet. I know it's about rich girls who have too much money in LA. So, it's Keeping up with the Kardashians 2. I think one of the girls was involved in stealing things from Orlando Bloom. Or something. I would steal things from Orlando Bloom though if I lived close to him. Mostly, I would try and steal his heart. Also any LOTR paraphernalia he had lying around. Like Elijah Wood.

Kirstie Alley's Big Life. This one is new. And weird. She is so odd and I just want to remember her on Cheers. But now she is large and screechy and has a cage full of marmots or ferrets or something strange and she lets them crawl all over her while she talks about her cocaine habit or how she wants to dance on new year's eve. I think I will stick with this one though. There's nothing I love more than a reality tv show based on weight loss. Plus, I think she's going to lose her mind, so, win win.

America's Next Top Model. Well, Tyra Banks is a lunatic but everyone knows that. This show really makes me giggle. There is always someone crying or fighting or snapping in half for lack of calories. What I like about this show is when Tyra gives life advice. Like sometimes she will tell them, "you need to just turn your brain off." Really, Tyra? Really? Yes, please tell the 95 pound model to turn her brain off. Pretty please. I also love Nigel. The photographer. I think my love for Nigel trumps my love for Bruce Jenner. He is so cool with his accent and his photography skills.

So. That sums it up. My reality tv swamp. Come and join me if you want...or tell me which ones I'm missing.

This post is dedicated to Paula Abdul. Shockingly, this is the second time I've used this photo.

When I Grow Up...Wait, I am Grown Up.

I had to fill out my annual "performance review" today at work. My annual self evaluation. The questions were what you would expect: How did my performance contribute on the challenges faced by my department? What were the actions or factors that inhibited my performance? etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. times infinity.

***I am avoiding what is really bothering me about the performance review***

........sigh.

Really, what this annual performance review marks, is another year of my strange and unexpected professional path. I won't say it's the wrong or right path...but it's definitely not what I expected. I wonder where my creative self went. Was it sucked up by my computer screen? Did it get tangled up in my swivel chair? Is it lost in my dozens of unheard voicemails? I don't know. But somewhere between the beige walls, the bland office furniture, and cubicle farm that is my life, I think I've lost something I know I once had. I'm still me but there is something depressing about sitting down in your chair and suddenly realizing that you are just another 9-5er. I basically like my job. It pays my bills, sometimes interesting things happen, and sometimes my boss orders pizza for everyone. awesome. I like the people I work with but it's so very normal. I don't know. I was too naive. I was always under the impression that I would just simply fall into a job that allowed me to go on safaris and whale-watching tours and all the while fund my ever-expanding shoe collection. Not so, my friends. Not so.

There is something nice about it all, I suppose. Like because I have a stable job, I will someday be able to buy a house. And I can then have rooms in my house with themes like "safari" or "whale watching" and pretend like I did all those things. right. But there's still a twinge of confusion that I'm sure all people my age experience. That twinge that says, 'I was supposed to be special.' And what a hilarious, ridiculous thing to think. The funny part is, I don't remember anyone ever telling me that I was special and that it would be different for me. I was just sure that it would be. Like all young idiots.

So. Take a breath, I suppose. Reassess. Appreciate smaller things. Learn to cook spectacularly so you trick yourself into thinking your life is quite glamorous. Go to garage sales to remind yourself that really, we're all in the same boat. Appreciate that I've got an abundance of love in my life. Remember that it's spring and almost cherry blossom season in my city. What have I really got to complain about? Zero, my friends. Zero. Life is just funny, as usual.

It would be nice if my job would send me on a safari though.

Sinus Infection Fantasies

I am having issues with my sinuses today and I'm at work. So I'm miserable. Naturally, because I'm miserable, I decided to fantasize about a perfect day.

It would be October. I would start the day early, but not too early. About 7. Go to a coffee shop, get some tea and eat a bagel and read for awhile. I would sit in the window and watch the world wake up...you know, pedestrians and bicycles zipping or sauntering by. I would be wearing some lovely whimsical outfit. (I never find myself clothed in some lovely, whimsical outfit...) Maybe I would meet up with someone I know there. Hopefully not an awkward acquaintance, hopefully a friend who already knows I'm odd. We would chat and then decide to go to the local flea market. or antique shop. either. We would buy lockets and old mirrors and compacts. We would forget that nobody has a dressing table anymore and just buy things we thought were pretty. non-sensible things only. Perhaps I would also buy a jar of something pickled. I like people who know how to pickle things. It would be quite a sensible thing to know in the event of society collapsing. Also farming and sewing. Many skills that have gone out of fashion could potentially be very important if something nuclear happened. But I would be ruining my perfect day with nuclear thoughts. So like me. After my friend and I had more trinkets than we could carry, we would part ways.

I would then go to a movie. I love to go to movies alone at strange times. Like in the morning or early afternoon. I would see a movie that film snobs would say was too emotional. But I like when they go a little over the top, so I'd pick something where there is a lot of crying, a lot of angst, a lot of love. You know, the type of movie that requires estrogen to sit through. I would buy the largest coke they had. And sit by myself in the dark and laugh and cry. It would be nice.

I think after the movie I would eat a BLT. As far as sandwiches go, the BLT is really top shelf. There is nothing better. So I would go get myself a BLT somewhere. It is the most fantastic sandwich, after all.

Probably after this I would run into a carnival. I can't explain my love for carnivals. They are actually quite gross and trashy. But I love the smell of funnel cakes, even if I don't like the taste. And I like the music and the flashing lights and how you can win yourself a goldfish or stuffed animal. And I've always liked the carousel, so I would take a ride on that. Also the ferris wheel. Classics. And I would win a goldfish. It would be grand. I would also get a bag of caramel popcorn. Which is by far, the greatest treat imaginable.

After that I would be pretty loaded down with my purchases from the flea market and my goldfish and my caramel popcorn. So I would call my driver to come pick it up and take it home for me. I would then go to Williams Sonoma. Money would be of no concern. I am after all, an heiress. But a nice one. I would buy new dishes and glasses. And a whisk. Because I don't have one, but it's always been my favorite kitchen utensil. I like the sound that happens when something is whisked. I would probably spend quite a lot of time in that magical place. Because it is divine. It makes me feel clean. It's like church.

My day is pretty much winding down. It's after 7 and I am supposed to meet my hott boyfriend for dinner. We don't go to a fancy place. We go someplace with a bar and music that's a little too loud and atmosphere that's a little too bustling. But we like it because we both feel uncomfortable in snobby restaurants. So we'd have a couple beers and eat a steak. "because there's nothing better than a good steak," says the Kansan. We wouldn't worry much about our waistlines because we are walking home so we can look at stars. On our walk home he lets me stop in a travel shop that sells photographs from around the world. I pick one from Italy. It's of a bicycle leaning against a fence. I can't explain why I love it...it just looks like heaven. I pull out my red notebook and make a note to myself, "must go to Italy."

When I get home I just plop down on my couch and watch HBO. HBO is the best at television. I would also watch an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians. I can't explain that one. Then I fall asleep.