I got sucked in by reality TV yesterday. I've never been addicted to a TV show that fast before.
It all started off innocently enough. Andrew and I went grocery shopping, came home, and watched a bit of TV while he ate lunch. He went upstairs to do work, and I started station hopping. I was really contemplating a movie, but couldn't decide which one, so I was hopping until I made up my mind. And then I got caught. It was like a whirlpool - slower around the edges, until you're so far in there's no hope of escape.
The sad part? It was Project Runway
on Bravo that caught my attention. I managed to tune in to the last 10 minutes of an episode. The pretty lady on the runway was telling a group of strangely dressed people that their final designs for the Bannana Republic holiday dress challenge would be worn on the runway, and then judged. I like fashion, even if I'm not fashionable. I like Bannana Republic, even if I don't shop there. So I was curious to see what these people would come up with. Big mistake.
The clothes were so-so. Even with the pieces I liked the most, there were still design elements that would stop me from buying them. That's okay, though, since I don't shop at Bannana Republic (I'm a JCrew woman). The really engaging part wasn't the designs, though, but the designers. They were all characters. There was the gay male primadonna and the straight male primadonna, and the snarky mom-type, and the wannabe punk chick, and the token foreign ladies with charming accents. Oh, and the brooding artist-type, of course. Individually they were all annoying and uninteresting, but together they were fascinating. The show is just like The Apprentice, but they're making clothing instead of renovating motels and running a Burger King.
Anyway, the show ended, and whaddya know - there was another one on immediately afterwards. Turns out the series finale is Wednesday, so they were doing a marthon of the previous 11 shows. Oh God.
I watched two more episodes before Andrew came downstairs. He was hooked too, though not as badly as I was. The really pathetic thing was that I told him that each show was 30 minutes - after all I had just watched 2, and I surely hadn't spent two hours watching TV... had I? I had. An hour later Andrew tore himself away to do more work... and I kept watching. At 5:00 I had to force myself to turn it off so I could go do laundry. I swear, I started to suffer from withdrawl almost instantly.
Fortunately, there was a basketball game on that Andrew wanted to watch, and then he suggested we put Aladdin on (one of his Valentine's Day gifts), so I was forced into going cold turkey. Secretly, I kept hoping he'd go do more work after the movie so I could watch another episode. He didn't, which was probably for the best. :(
After the movie we watched more basketball, and Andrew would ocassionally flip through the channels... he'd pass Bravo, and I catch a glimpse of the show, and I'd have to stop myself from telling him to go back so I could find out what was happening. It was so humiliating.
So yes, I spent I'm-not-sure how many hours watching TV yesterday. So much for my planned walk around the park across the street. I did manage to do laundry, but only with a great exercise of willpower.
This morning when I got to work, one of the first things I did was go to the Project Runway website to read synopses of the other shows I had missed. I'm also hoping to watch the finale on Wednesday, provided there isn't another basketball game on (I'm living with a sports addict. His addiction is worse than mine.).
The only good that came out of this single-day brush with addiction? I finished Clapotis. Somehow, though, the circumstances keep me from feeling proud of myself. Pictures of the lovely lady later. :)