Escaping into Reality

So last night began the newest season of The Bachelor, with Jason, who didn't make the cut last season, and didn't make the cut when his wife in real life dumped him, even after the birth of a child.
He started with 25 'beautiful girls' and eliminated 10 last night. The one from our area had every other word bleeped out, was voted by the girls as the one they wanted to get rid of, earning her the right to stay for the cat fight!

My circle of girlfriends meets together for the kickoff and finale of this anything but reality show. Everyone brings wine and a snack. We meet at the house of someone who has a very large TV an hour before the show starts to get our talking done. A bowl of marshmallows are sitting out, to be thrown at anyone who talks during the actual show. I'm not a big fan of this show, but I do love some girltime. If I have the count right, out of the many seasons the show has run, only one couple has actually stayed together. But love is nothing if not hopeful, and it only takes one success to hope that this season two people will find their true love and stay together forever.

Tonight, The Biggest Loser starts. We've watched every season of it; they all run together a bit. This past season Bob, the trainer, warned a contestant that a previous season's winner now weighed as much as he did coming in, because he was into competition, not changing his life.
Still, I love this show. It's generally very encouraging to see contestants cheering each other on, and lives being changed for the better. DH and I are still trying to figure out why this show, above all others, tends to send us to the freezer for the quart of ice cream sometime in the second half. Maybe we just feel skinny compared to most of them, since some of them lose more than I weigh?

Then next week American Idol starts - if there's anything to get a 'stuck in the grey, cold muck of winter' Pittsburgher through it all, two nights a week of American Idol is it. I don't know if it's comforting to hear others who sing even worse than I do, or if I'm just thankful Simon isn't tearing into me. Maybe it's Paula making me feel like the Genus Society will be phoning any day. We can always hope someone will win this year who is not like Clay Aiken with the creepy hair and his face looks like a wax figure?, or Reuben who faded away but I was always afraid he'd drop dead on the stage, or Taylor Hicks who sings the National Anthem and not much else. The show has produced Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood and even Mandisa got voted off after Simon consistently picked on her, but she's a big success. So this one is a keeper in our books for sure; we just don't sing along.

Then in a few weeks Survivor will be back on, 39 days with contestants getting eaten alive by bugs, and in spite of the fact that they spent months applying, interviewing, etc. they never spent five minutes in their local bookstore checking out a book on wilderness survival, how to build a fire, catch a fish with a string and a paperclip, or what you can eat when there's no food around. I've never really figured that one out. A boyscout dropout could probably win it all!
They'll run around falling out of their clothes, and having their words bleeped out in spite of being aware half of America will be watching them on HD TV's, and that will include their mothers, grandmothers, employers, students, neighbors. Who cares who wins? I love seeing how nasty people can really be, and when there's a contestant with a single redeeming quality they really stand out. Plus Jeff is cute. And it makes me appreciate clean drinking water, bathrooms, clean bedding, deodorant, toothpaste, bras with underwires and fresh salads.

And this year DH has added yet another show to our reality repertoire - some 'Superstar dancing of the nations'.
Because both of us have two left feet, we've steered clear of Dancing With the Stars so far, but it appears we're now going to sit and watch people who are skinny, get along, and dance well. I can't think of a single thing about all of that to make me feel better.

Now why do we watch reality TV? Especially in the grey of winter when I'm eating comfort foods, tend to be a bit grouchy and whiny, wear snow boots and the only time you'd catch me doing anything that looks remotely like a dance move is at the top of our driveway if we miss salting a spot, and I pull off a few slips and slides. Then too, I've landed flat on my rear in the middle of the icy lawn too - that probably wouldn't get many points from the viewers, but if by chance a neighbor ever sees me, I'll get sympathy because likely they've done the same thing a time or two. After all, that's the reality of winter in the 'burgh.