Allison accused me of being too serious in my last few blogs. So, back to the regular irrational, hysterical, but hilarious me!
I haven't blogged lately about reality television. There was a dry spell for a bit. I think that the end of Bret Michael's Tour Bus of Love may have left a little void in my life. I tried to like Daisy of Love, but it just wasn't the same. But alas, REALITY TV is back! OMG- there are a couple of shows that I need to tell you about.
First of all- The Bachelorette. Okay, this is not a new concept, but seriously...I found it a little hard to empathize with all beautiful people who wanted to find love on TV. REALLY? Where was the fat chick? Where was the "holier than thou" dude? These people were all picked from magazines. I am pretty sure that none of these people really exist in real life. I mean, seriously, if these people, with their six pack abs and perfect teeth can't find love, how am I going to succeed? I mean, I am the average American woman-- I have a muffin top (though no camel toe....at least I hope not); every year I get older I notice more and more whiskers in various parts of my body, and I get stupider. That being said, I am quite a catch. Yet, the "beau-ti-ful peo-ple" (Revenge of the Nerds anyone) can't seem to find love unless they go on a TV show. Hmmm....do you think my muffin top, occasional acne and grey hair spells STAR?
Next, I find myself not understanding why I watch "Hooked" and "River Monsters". Seriously, who would have thought that I would ever watch the same show on two different channels. This is the best idea ever-- total rednecks who like to FISH try to capture the biggest fish ever. On the surface it sounds really boring, but seriously folks- it's like a train wreck. You don't want to admit that you will rubberneck to look!
The next reality show that I have found myself strangely attracted to is "I Didn't know I was Pregnant". I think that the attraction is that of disbelief. Now, most of you know that I have never been pregnant, don't want to be pregnant, nor plan on becoming pregnant (see "The Bachelorette"). I have watched videos of people giving birth, and I have heard the horror stories of pregnancy. Recently, I went to Urgent Care for an infected hang nail. I am supposed to believe that these women didn't know that ANOTHER HUMAN BEING was growing inside of them and they didn't feel anything. Seriously? I feel it when my neighbor farts. But apparently this is a phenomenon that has swept the nation, because there is a reality SERIES called "I didn't know I was pregnant".
Dating in the Dark comes next. Has anyone else seen this show? Apparently the goal is to see if people can find themselves truly attracted to someone without ever seeing that person. They go on dates, all in the dark. I would wear a horn on my head, or at the very least attach a vestigial tail. Okay okay, but I know how to win this game-- attach a third boob to my forehead. Most guys will fall for that one hook line and sinker.
Finally, I can't close this blog without mentioning the tie for first place. Dancing Tweens and Toddler's and Tiara's. Holy shit-- this is the pinnacle that is American reality television. I will begin with Dancing Tweens. These are little kids, like 8 or 9 years old, who COMPETE in ballroom dancing competitions. All I can say is that when I was forced to learn to square dance in 7th grade gym class (my partner was another girl- go figure) I hated every minute of it. I will skip over the obvious question of why they are teaching kids in the 21st century (okay, back then it was the 20th century) to square dance.....at school....in gym..... So I am watching this show and seeing all the little boys who will make wonderful decorators and hair dressers (probably named Preston Brady) when they are older. And these kids are BALLROOM dancing. I can remember when I was about 10- I wanted nothing to do with anything formal. Krista and I played Top Gun, built robots, and skated in our garages. Then, there is the seemingly natural progression to Toddlers and Tiara's. These little girls wear fake hair, fake eyelashes, spray tan, bikini's (these are TODDLERS); fake teeth, fake nails, high heels and makeup applied with a spatula. What the hell are we teaching these girls-- I don't recall there being any math contests, or reading spells--- no- we want to put our future in toddler beauty pageants. I just wonder- why not go all out and give them fake boobs?
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
What could have been.....
I am 32 years old. 10 years ago...a DECADE....I finally ended the relationship that has defined me. I wonder what life would have been had I not ended that relationship.
I would be a 32 year old grandmother. He had several kids, the first of which was born when he was 15. I am sure that patterns repeat, his mother had him at 17.
I think about what my life would be like. I am 32, living in Colorado. I live in a not so good part of town. I figure that we rent a house or townhouse. It's winter, I have kids (not sure how many) and his oldest son and his son (my step-grandchild) and the baby's mom all live with us. We scrape by each month barely able to pay for the rent on this 3 bedroom hovel. We have no money in the bank. We have terrible credit. I work at a local clothing store, terrible hours but it's consistent work. It pays the bills, barely, and the store is close to the house so I can walk when my husband is with the car. He doesn't work....often. He never graduated from high school, and the DUI's and the violent sexual felony on his record prevent him from landing a job which could support the family in a reasonable way.
We aren't happy. Our life is constant survival mode. We just have to get from one day to the next. I am late at work on a particular evening, and he is furious. I didn't hear the cell phone ringing when he called. I am walking home after the store closes. When I get to the front door of the house, I am relieved that I am home and that I can have a seat after spending the last 10 hours on my feet. He meets me at the door and is furious. I didn't answer my phone. Why not? Who was I with? Who am I fucking? No one thinks I am good looking. I am not better than anyone. No one would ever even talk to me if not for him. Do I think that I can do better? The smell of tequila and marajuana permeates the air between us.
We've had this conversation a million times if we have had it once. I know where this is going, and I know what buttons to push. I walk away, knowing that is a button. He follows me- pulling my arm behind me....how dare I walk away. Who is he? What is his name? There will be bruises in the morning. Thank god the kids are in bed. They have seen this too many times. The argument ensues. We both are engaged in it; both are hooked on it. We do this at least once a month. The frustration never ends.
I could go on and on. This would have been my life if not for a few simple choices. When I was 22 I went to Hawaii with my parents. I know, sounds like a hell of a trip, eh? but it was, because as I sat on the beach in Hawaii and realized that I wasn't being yelled at; I didn't feel bad about myself. I realized that I didn't have to spend my life being treated poorly, abused for lack of a better phrase. I could experience peace, and most importantly, I could PICK peace. I decide what my life is going to become, especially at 22 years old! I was lost within myself for the time I was involved in that relationship. I mistook attention, any attention, for love. I became addicted to the drama, to the highs and the lows. It defined my very being. I lost the strength that I had. I lost the gumption, the individuality, the self respect. I struggle with those losses now, wondering what I would have been if I never met him.
But, I did meet him, and I did allow myself to be in that situation. And, I wouldn't change it. I am a better person for having survived it. I won't allow someone to take the power away from me again and make me feel small, ugly, insignificant. By going through that situation, I learned a lot that one only learns with experience. I learned not to accept an open drink from a guy you don't know. I learned that when you wake up in the morning and don't remember, and then things come to you in a flash-- those things really happened. I learned how many stairs I could be pushed down (or dragged) before bruises would become too large to hide or lie away. I tested the boundaries of my parents and friends, I learned how to hide more than I told. This wasn't someone I wanted to be; I am glad that I am not that person. I may still be damaged, but I don't belong to anyone anymore, and never again. I will be me.
I would be a 32 year old grandmother. He had several kids, the first of which was born when he was 15. I am sure that patterns repeat, his mother had him at 17.
I think about what my life would be like. I am 32, living in Colorado. I live in a not so good part of town. I figure that we rent a house or townhouse. It's winter, I have kids (not sure how many) and his oldest son and his son (my step-grandchild) and the baby's mom all live with us. We scrape by each month barely able to pay for the rent on this 3 bedroom hovel. We have no money in the bank. We have terrible credit. I work at a local clothing store, terrible hours but it's consistent work. It pays the bills, barely, and the store is close to the house so I can walk when my husband is with the car. He doesn't work....often. He never graduated from high school, and the DUI's and the violent sexual felony on his record prevent him from landing a job which could support the family in a reasonable way.
We aren't happy. Our life is constant survival mode. We just have to get from one day to the next. I am late at work on a particular evening, and he is furious. I didn't hear the cell phone ringing when he called. I am walking home after the store closes. When I get to the front door of the house, I am relieved that I am home and that I can have a seat after spending the last 10 hours on my feet. He meets me at the door and is furious. I didn't answer my phone. Why not? Who was I with? Who am I fucking? No one thinks I am good looking. I am not better than anyone. No one would ever even talk to me if not for him. Do I think that I can do better? The smell of tequila and marajuana permeates the air between us.
We've had this conversation a million times if we have had it once. I know where this is going, and I know what buttons to push. I walk away, knowing that is a button. He follows me- pulling my arm behind me....how dare I walk away. Who is he? What is his name? There will be bruises in the morning. Thank god the kids are in bed. They have seen this too many times. The argument ensues. We both are engaged in it; both are hooked on it. We do this at least once a month. The frustration never ends.
I could go on and on. This would have been my life if not for a few simple choices. When I was 22 I went to Hawaii with my parents. I know, sounds like a hell of a trip, eh? but it was, because as I sat on the beach in Hawaii and realized that I wasn't being yelled at; I didn't feel bad about myself. I realized that I didn't have to spend my life being treated poorly, abused for lack of a better phrase. I could experience peace, and most importantly, I could PICK peace. I decide what my life is going to become, especially at 22 years old! I was lost within myself for the time I was involved in that relationship. I mistook attention, any attention, for love. I became addicted to the drama, to the highs and the lows. It defined my very being. I lost the strength that I had. I lost the gumption, the individuality, the self respect. I struggle with those losses now, wondering what I would have been if I never met him.
But, I did meet him, and I did allow myself to be in that situation. And, I wouldn't change it. I am a better person for having survived it. I won't allow someone to take the power away from me again and make me feel small, ugly, insignificant. By going through that situation, I learned a lot that one only learns with experience. I learned not to accept an open drink from a guy you don't know. I learned that when you wake up in the morning and don't remember, and then things come to you in a flash-- those things really happened. I learned how many stairs I could be pushed down (or dragged) before bruises would become too large to hide or lie away. I tested the boundaries of my parents and friends, I learned how to hide more than I told. This wasn't someone I wanted to be; I am glad that I am not that person. I may still be damaged, but I don't belong to anyone anymore, and never again. I will be me.
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