Pickles. Housewives. Celebrities dancing awkwardly in sparkly costumes.
You know you need a break when you think to yourself hey, I need to watch more reality TV, or man, I sure wish I had time to crochet right now. That's right, I WISH I HAD MORE TIME TO CROCHET. But every stitch in your afghan is another word not in your novel. Or something.
And while we're still on the subject of pickles--we are, right?--can I just say that I have a serious addiction lately to a very specific, very salty snack? Get ready for this, people: Hamburger dill slices (the cheap, chemical-soaked, florescent green ones with the waffled edges), wrapped in salami. Every night is Saturday night with PDawg.
No, seriously. Delicious. Probably bad for me, sure. Perhaps I have some kind of salt deficiency? I am not going to bother to find out. I'm just gonna go with it and keep buying my pickles in big jars.
So, yeah, I watched the first episode of the Real Housewives of New York City reunion. And it totally filled the void in my soul that can only be filled by watching other people fight. Do you know this about me? When other people start fighting and it has nothing to do with me? I kind of love that. TV makes it better because I don't have to care about them. But in general, I love to stay out of the fighting, and I'm FASCINATED by it. And boy, does the Real Housewives franchise serve it up.
Anyhoo... Dancing with the Stars is about to start. I've got it on mute, but it looks like it's going to be a promising night of spray tans, giant hair, and bedazzled underpants. What they're doing on TV looks cool too... I KID. I mostly watch this show just so I can figure out what Bristol Palin did to her face. That, and I'm kind of curious to see what happens to her