dose of reality

I will be blogging more soon, but just to grease the gears a bit I am going to confess.

I watch reality TV. Not the Springer/Maury type, the Housewife and Judge type. Singing competitions. I will add documentaries to the mix just to make me sound smarter, although it is true I am a documentary addict.

The men in my house are amused by this. It does not fit into their perception of me as a relatively intelligent, creative, snarky person. I am supposed to disdain such frivolity for the  manipulative BS it is. And I do, I do. But I watch anyway. They roll their eyes at each other when I settle into my big chair to watch Judge Judy. There was a time when this addiction embarrassed me but now I flaunt it and refuse to be forced to switch to Nova. 

Then I read one of those articles about how certain types of people share the same traits. Creative people, it said, are voyeurs. I read the same thing once about writers. Voyeurs all. Yes! I am not addicted to tacky TV, I am an artist!

Truth be told, my voyeuristic tendencies have always been known to me. I love nighttime with its lighted windows offering glimpses into other lives. At restaurants, I try not to stare as I ponder what the dynamics are and where they were before they came in, where they will go when they leave. A few weeks ago, a table full of older West Side Italian guys had  me mesmerized as I listened to them discharge all the cares of the world over endless cups of coffee in a few sentences each, punctuated by dismissive gestures and sarcasm, their accents bringing My Dad and Uncle to my mind with sweet sadness.

I have been known to peek into medicine cabinets, but I broke myself of that habit because it seemed creepy, even though I understand my own motives.

So, today, watching People's Court, I am curious about why a person would pierce themselves a certain way, what made you choose that outfit for TV. Two women suing each other, one with artfully applied makeup, lots of jewelry, expensive bag on the table beside her. The other has a bad haircut, little makeup, a shirt that screams cheap. They both intrigue me although I find myself rooting for the simpler woman. I picture them getting ready for this, in their real world outside this fake courtroom. This is how my mind works.

When the home buying shows are one, I am most likely to be not as fascinated by the homes as I am by the buyers being interviewed in their old house. Do you really keep you kid's toys there? Look at all the knives in that kitchen. Do none of these people put nice linens on the bed when a camera crew is coming? I have those same curtains! Macy's, on sale.

So, do not judge me, indulge me. It is a harmless addiction. It amuses me and it is free. And leave your curtains open at night. I'm interested in what you hang on your walls :)