Whose Reality is This, Anyway?


I love reality TV.  There I said it.

I know that doesn’t make me popular, and it certainly doesn’t make me any smarter, but for whatever reason, I find eavesdropping on someone else’s screwed-up life to be pretty relaxing.

The love I have for some shows is beyond even my own comprehension.  What it is that I find so appealing about Lockup on MSNBC is beyond me.  That said, though, I’ve learned quite a bit about prison culture and gangs, and I find it fascinating.  To what use I will be able to put this information in my personal suburban reality isn’t clear, but I’m not sure I care.

I think that shows like Hoarders make me feel just a little bit better about myself.  I know I’m not the greatest housekeeper, but I’ve never felt the need to bottle and save my own waste, which automatically puts me at an advantage.

I like to think that I will never be as much of a train wreck as any of the “real” housewives (although I’ve never met any actual housewives who were anything like any of the “housewives” I’ve seen on Bravo).

I’ve even enjoyed some obscure reality shows that I’m not sure anyone else watched, like Kid Nation, Shalom in the Home, and the Gastineau Girls (this one I think other people may have watched, just not people my own age).

Some of these shows, Dave and I have watched together.  We have had our own dorky tradition of watching all 26 seasons of Survivor, and for whatever reason, around season 10, we started eating Chinese food while we watch every week.  We used to watch Extreme Makeover, until Dave kind of ruined it for me by pointing out that the friends of the makeover recipient (who would be there for the surprise when the person found out they were selected for the show), were essentially cheering that their friend got onto the show for being the ugliest person the producers could find.

I suppose I could look at this as a little bit of an addiction.  Or maybe not.  I’m pretty sure Dr. Drew doesn’t have a show for this one.