Confession. Sick and embarrassing confession. Will you still be my friend kind of confession. No one will watch these with me on Thursday night kind of confession.I watch the entire Housewife franchise. All of them. Sit down and watch kind of thing. Oooh the shame. The time-suckage of it all. WTH is wrong with me? Was I dropped on my head as a child? As an adult?
Orange County, Atlanta, New York, New Jersey. I marvel at their huge hair, their blond hair, their SIB hair (some I bought hair - thanks Diahann Carroll), their stiff faces, their boobs (oh the boobage!), their mortified children, their sheepish hubs, their over-the-top homes, their fingernails!
And I watch. I can't stop watching. I laugh out loud. I embrace the crazy. Again - WTH??
What would an anthropologist make of this? Will we all be judged by these shows? Will this be our time capsule? Is this why I (and many others - I know it!) watch week after week, year after year?
I've done a casting call in my head for "The Housewives of Hennepin County". We'd need two versions though. The Maple Grove/Champlin chapter and the South Minneapolis Chapter. For obvious reasons. Sorry for the local reference. Those that live in these parts will understand.
Am I envious? Am I smug? Am I a drama-whore? Maybe a little of each.
1 comment:
What you ARE, is missing in action. Did you fall off the Blogosphere?
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