I Admit It

I have tried to pretend it's not true, or not really completely true, but I'm tired of lying to myself. It's time to come clean.

I like TV.

And I like reality shows.


I don't know what it is... maybe the lack of drama (and no, that's not a complaint) in my own relationships. Maybe I choose too many civil people to be friends with. But there is something about looking in on the really bizarre lives of some of these people who choose to put themselves into the public eye that I just can't get away from. I like Survivor and the Amazing Race... watching relationships develop and change or sometimes fall apart. I like American Idol (though mostly only the first few episodes of each season, where there is guaranteed to be at least one person shaking a finger around, saying "you don't know me! you can't judge me! you think I can't sing, but I can sing, and if you can't see that, then you can just..." and it goes on from there.

But I have a new favorite. It's called Blush - The Search for America's Next Top Makeup Artist.

Now some of you at this point (not naming names, British Nathan) probably think I'm making this up. But I'm not. I like what they do - some of them do some really great work - and I like watching the photography side of it. But what I really love is how completely removed it is from anything I've ever experienced before.

There was one straight man on it, but he's gone, and so now it is so incredibly camp, over the top, and terribly, terribly dramatic that I just can't stop watching. I have a feeling that more than a few minutes with any of the remaining hopefuls would be too much for me, but on TV, where I can mute them if it's too much, or go hunting for a hockey game, it's just about perfect.

Very, very fun.