As my vacation from work now seems like a distant memory, I am left longing for one of my favorite guilty pleasures: trashy reality tv shows. One of my favorites, and I think I would have a lot of supporters in this, is “Real Housewives.” Bravo does such a wonderful job of finding drama-filled, mindless television, and I absolutely love it. I don’t know if it’s just the allure of having a “window” into someone else’s life, or if it’s that I really don’t have to think when I watch it. Don’t get me wrong: I watch my fair share of “brainy” television too (lots of documentaries), and I love that, but sometimes it’s just fun to watch someone like Teresa (from RHofNJ) flip a table because she doesn’t like someone. Now, in “real life” (and by “real life” I mean one that doesn’t include a film crew), you or I would not be able to do that, and I think that’s part of the draw too: these crazy ladies do things that we have THOUGHT about doing or WISHED we could do but haven’t, because of the threat of embarrassment/divorce/fines/jail time.
And, while I love shows like this, they are the bain of my husband’s existence. Whenever he comes home from work and either sees it on the TV, or even hears Camille Grammar’s voice, he lets out an audible groan. He says that he doesn’t understand why a smart person (I’m assuming me?) would want to fill their head (and time) with shows such as these. Apparently, he is not entertained by Kelly’s analogies or Alexis’ cheeseball of a husband. I, for one, still am entertained by silly this like this, so I will continue to wait patiently for my next vacation, when I can catch back up with my favorite crazy ladies.