Well, they got me. Reality TV has been scheduled on my DVR.
Yep that’s right, I now have an insane need to find out what is happening with the Kardashians, how Bethany’s Ever After is going and then of course must know what Reza from the Shahs of Sunset is going to do next as an openly gay Persian. I was the person that made fun of anyone that knew anything about the Housewives of anywhere or which sixteen year old was pregnant again by somebody else while still having problems with “Tha Baby Daddy”.
In my opinion this behavior was such a waste of valuable time, thirty or sixty minute intervals of life that they will never get back. Now having said this, I was sucked in when reality shows were babies and proud to say that I cried when Kelly won in the first season of American Idol. I have watched ever since and I wait for the first show of the season like opening day of Giants baseball. It tickles me when my pal Ryan states in only the way he can “THIS is AMERican Idol!”
Then of course there was Survivor that I only watched the first and second season but then quit and until Survivor comes to my hometown, I won’t be watching again. I think…Well, here I am all these years later and since I haven’t worked in just about a year, my daily activities include household chores, landscaping, cooking, the gym, errands and of course writing. So if I am not plugging away at my laptop keyboard, scribbling in my novel notebooks or jotting down daily activities in my travel journal, I am watching the boob tube with my puppies. (Sidebar: who came up with boob tube?)
It’s happened, I have fallen into the darkness and have been lured in by all the daytime TV and commercials whispering suggestions and subliminal messages of what happens next in my ears to fill my desire to know. Yes, It’s an addicition. I hate it but just can’t stop watching! I am doing nothing about it people! I am reveling in the curiosity of someone willing to put his or her life on TV. I am rolling around in the “problems” they face and finally listening intently to the sickening sweetness that comes from their lips. I now find myself worrying about or wanting to mentor them like a family member.
I now know in my heart that Kris Kardashian and I are motherhood sisters. I do worry if Khloe will ever get pregnant but at the same time want everyone to just leave her alone. I feel so sorry for Bruce and Kourtney? I just don’t know about her yet… I think more of a psychological evaluation on my part is needed for a diagnosis of her life. Then there is KIM! Love her or hate her, she is who she is. Me thinks that the main ingredient for her recipe is consistency.
My newest addiction is the Shahs of Sunset and the drawing factor for me is the extravagance that is displayed what with pillared entries to what they call home or the bottles of Cristal that flows endlessly which apparently is the Persian lifestyle. I worry about GG and if she will ever find love because she is a terrible date and a bit shallow. The piece de resistance? Reza! Hellloooo! Who doesn’t love him! He is who he is and doesn’t care!! ooooh snap!
Sweet has rolled eyes and ahem’d more times than I like when he sees the 81% of our DVR used and asks me when I will ever have time to watch all that I have scheduled to record to which I reply “No worries”. Thankfully I am not at the point where I have elected to follow them on Twitter because if that happens I think a full-blown intervention will be required.
Knowing that there are so many other things to do and realizing that I am now one of those people that wastes that never ending valuable time. I have succumbed after avoiding this debauchery for so long, I am now a viewing prisoner but like Reza says, “At the end of the day, they have my back and I have theirs. Hellloooo, we’re Persian!”