Thursday, April 23, 2009

surreal reality, need AC, metric system

I told my boss at my evening job that I would prefer not to work tonight, so here I am with more free time and in better spirits. What better than to peruse eBay and blog after a night at pasta heaven (and my former place of employ) and a peanut buster parfait from Dairy Queen? I got a chance to catch up on the Biggest Loser and Ron is such a snake! Despicable. I liked Kristin. She didn't bitch and worked her ass off and that is rare. But her downfall was not voting out Ron when she had a chance. You can't be too trusting on a dog-eat-dog show.

Ok, so as you all know, I love reality shows as much as most people half my age, but even I think they have gone a little too far. I refuse to watch any "reality shows" with celebrities as contestants. Celebrity fit club, surreal life, dancing with the stars, celebrity apprentice: I'm not interested. First of all, if you're on one of these shows in the first place, you're not a celeb: you're a has-been. You're not A or B List, you're on whatever list Kathy Griffin is a part of. The beauty of watching reality shows is seeing ordinary people in an abnormal situation. I don't want to see some rich person spill their woes on life and mope about their unfortunate past.

That doesn't mean, however, that I don't perk up when I hear of a has-been gone nobody. "Screech" late on some water bills? That is hilarious. Too bad 6:30 am syndicated shows of "Saved by the Bell," don't pay handsome residuals. I guess when all you have to offer on your resume is: "frizzy white boy fro, prepubescent pitchy voice, fish hook mouth with bug eyes surprised look," there isn't much of a market for you in Hollywood anymore. Our tastes have really improved since the 80s (this is a joke: see previous paragraph about worthless 'celebrity' reality shows).

Well, let me separate my real life from that box in the living room for a moment. Today was so hot. Spring was Tuesday and here we are in summer. Perhaps this will be the year I get air conditioning in my car. Either that, or I can sweat through enough clothes that I might as well have paid for air conditioning. On the plus side, today I was finally able to put my hair into a ponytail (with the assistance of only one bobby pin). This has been a long time coming ever since that fateful day I decided to experiment with a hair school stylist who apparently doesn't know inches as a measurement. Perhaps she's foreign and on the metric system. I have a lot more to say, but I will space it out. I don't need to go crazy one night because I don't have to work -- I have my whole life in front of me (but what does that phrase mean since nobody knows how long their life will be?)

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