Where I live, Multnomah County gets all the love. Of course, when I say 'Multnomah County' I mean the blocks that fall within 4 very specific square miles of progressive self love. But I'm not about to start uploading shiny pics of pink wine just to get sidetracked by a little chip on my shoulder called 'Hawthorne Street Insecurity'. No. We're here to talk about reality TV. So, let's get down to it.
Reality TV and I are besties. Reality TV and I have no boundaries. We have no secrets from one another. We're like this:
Let me make it crystal clear how serious I am. I have watched every episode of every season of every show listed below.*
Real World
Jersey Shore
Tori and Dean
Jon and Kate + Eight
Kate + Eight
17, 18, and 19 Kids and Counting
Sister Wives
The Bachelor (Brad Womack is such a jerk face)
Baby Story
Teen Mom
The Hills
Laguna Beach
Kendra
Girls Next Door
Holly's World
The Kardashians
Real Housewives of Orange County, Beverly Hills, New York, New Jersey, Miami, you name it...
I'm going to stop there before someone calls DHS on me. (It's called naptime, people). And on a personal note to one of my sisters -- watching TOP CHEF does not count as Reality TV. So, if you want to join the club you'll have to lower that brow and get down in the gutter with the rest of us.
Given my incredible dedication, I find it a bit surprising to wake up everyday and find no cameras in my house. What's up with that? I was out to pizza the other day with my family, cozied up next to a table of Seventh Day Adventists, watching my 2 year old son play a race-car video game-preview with no quarters in the slot and, as I was sprinkling parmesan cheese on the 'Local Canadian Bacon Delight' I thought to myself, "Somewhere out there in a parallel universe I am doing this exact same thing but....(wait for it)....ON TELEVISION! Broadcast on Oxygen, preferably. (Second choice: TLC, obviously).
Because the local networks and cable mega giants are not currently returning my calls (bad manners = bad karma = sucks for you when I become super duper famous as soon as Oprah's new OWN channel discovers me in Clackamas County -- please see above map for directions, Oprah) and because I'm nice and because I feel sorry for everyone who wishes they could watch me avoid housework and exercise from the comfort of their living rooms every night I WILL GRANT THE UNIVERSE A FAVOR and describe what a typical episode might look like if 'The Man' ever comes to his senses and sends a camera crew over here (please see above map for directions, Crew).
The following non-televised reality television show is titled "The Real Housewives of Clackamas County"
Starring: myself and.....remaining talent TBD.
Scene One: Early dawn morning, Saturday, approximately 10 am, I awake to the sound of procrastination and fear. Relief settles in as I realize my rise-at-5:00-am-ex-Marine husband has gotten our son out of bed and fed him. (See? Still no need to call DHS.) I climb out of bed and create a mental check list of 'to-dos' as I look around the room and notice seven immediate tasks. I'll get right on those after a bowl of cereal.
Scene Two: Jack and I proceed to engage in a little game called 'Opposite Cleaning' for a few hours, which consists of pretty much what that sounds like.
Scene Three: Now that it's nearing 4pm, I'm really starting to feel motivated to start some chores. Right after a quick trip to the store to get some things we need before we begin. Really need some window cleaner before I can dig in. We hop in the car and head to downtown Oregon City.
Like all good episodes...to be continued....pink wine and all.
*not intended to be a factual statement
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