So, here's to making really poor choices. By 7 p.m. last night, I was exhausted. When the oldest child called at 7:30 to ask if I needed anything from the store before he came home from work, I thought hmm, a mocha frap from Starbucks sounded delicious.
I wasn't the least bit deterred by the fact that it contained 500 calories, according to their website. I looked it up to be sure I was telling him to get me the right thing. But yes, 500 calories in a drink. Nevermind the fact that it contains a bazillion grams of caffeine, I wanted one.
Physically, I was drained when I headed to bed around 9:30. Mentally, the caffeine was kicking in, and what was there left to do but watch some TV? I love, love, love "Don't Forget the Lyrics." I've been a Wayne Brady fan since he was on "Whose Line" with Drew Carey.
I faced a dilemma after that. Would I watch that dingdog class reunion show on TVland or the even crazier "I Know My Kid's a Star" on VH-1. I would have never admitted it in my youth, but I thought Danny Partridge was cute. Danny won. I flipped over to VH-1.
I don't know what it is about reality TV, but I've been hooked since "The Real World" on MTV in the 90s. I did eventually outgrow watching that show, mainly because I became an old married woman, and it seemed like the youngins' got younger and younger and I no longer had a bit in common with them.
I'm an avid reality TV watcher. American Idol, Big Brother, High School Reunion, Flavor of Love, Rock of Love. I was hardly fazed by the writers' strike.
T.S. Eliot might have once said, "Mankind cannot bear very much reality," but I beg to differ.
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