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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