By the way, there is a writers' strike in Hollywood. And you don't need writers (or very good ones) for "reality" TV. Which is why I am watching "The Real Housewives of Orange County." (Note: I am folding laundry and cleaning the bedroom and getting ready for my 6:30 a.m. flight to Dallas. Because I am a REAL nonHousewife. With no servants. If I were a decent woman, I'd be doing crunches and all of the above.)
This show always has astoundingly, ahem...different views from mine, which is fine and entertaining and who cares. But for some reason tonight I am struck by how scary it must be to exist as the children of these women who seek nothing but Youth, Money, Beauty, Status and Stuff. What are you supposed to do with your life when every signpost you encounter directs you back to...(see YMBSS above)?
I fail a lot, but at least I am striving toward the right stuff? More or less? These women make me feel better about myself (and also suck my abs in a little). If I look strangely tan next time you see me, you'll know why. But at least Lucy will know a multisyllabic word.