I've been in the United States for 4 days now and I've managed to catch up on every episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and I'm 2/3rds of the way through Millionaire Matchmaker.
Hi, my name is Marie and I am hopelessly addicted to reality shows on Bravo TV.
When I left for London, I had to quit my obsession cold turkey. For days, I went through withdrawals. Shaking, cold sweats, screaming out for Bethenny in the middle of the night...
no joke. I love this woman. I wish we could skip around New York, making recipes from her cookbook and talking sarcastic smack about people. *sigh*
It's been a long, cold 3 months without American cable, but I was surviving. More than that, I was thriving. No longer was I spending hours watching Ramona and Jill drink too much Sauvignon Blanc. Instead, I was a functioning member of society. I was up, I was active, I had color in my cheeks and some pep in my step.
and then I came home.
Thursday morning, I settled down on my parents couch, remote in hand and tipped my toe lightly into the 400 channel HD TV pool. I was nervous, did I remember how use the DVR? What if I couldn't find Bravo anymore?
but, like a moth to a flame, a crackhead to his...well...crack, I landed on Bravo OnDemand and before I even realized it, I was tuned in to RHoBV (Real Housewives of Beverly Hills for those who aren't fiends like myself). The first episode I found? Titled "My Mansion is bigger than your Mansion" aaaaaah, America. I love you.
I am instantly hooked again. With every pump of collagen in Taylor's lips, I am getting my fix.
I just can't stop. I am trying, but my parent's living room has become my own personal crack den.
Please ignore my chipped nail polish. I can't be bothered to do mundane tasks, much less personal hygiene maintenance...especially when Patti Stanger is involved. But, let this picture prove to you that while I am self-professed reality tv addict with a penchant for dirty afternoons filled with Bravo TV, I'm no liar...
as you can see, the creepy spiky haired guy that Patti calls her VIP of Whoring Out Millionaire Men is in the background.
I like to call it background research. Don't all the great authors drink Cosmopolitans at 4pm on a Sunday and watch trashy reality tv? I'm pretty sure Hemingway did. He dabbled in all sorts of crazy drugs, I'm sure there was some cheeky television and a pink tinted cocktail in there somewhere.
I will promise you this: after I hit Publish Post, I will finish this cocktail, turn off the TV, and go take a shower.
Wait a minute. There's a Project Runway marathon starting in 10 minutes...hmmm....looks like it'll be a liquid dinner with my homie Heidi Klum.
Goodnight, kids. If someone could go out and get a few breaths of fresh air for me today, I'd really appreciate it.