Monday, April 1, 2013

Real Housewives

It started with Orange County.

It as an act of masochism.

I'd watch Real Housewives of the Orange County and just think...these women could be the parents of my students!  I saw the same type of woman at the schools where I taught.  I dealt with very similar personality types.  I lived one mile from Coto de Caza!  I saw Vicky at Target!

Glued to the television, I'd watch in disgust and horror.  But mainly I'd watch knowing all these people had kids, and I was probably teaching them.  Well not THEM specifically.

Don't get me wrong.  I had some really awesome and delightful students.  I had students who worked hard and had a good attitude.  I also had students who tried to say they didn't need to turn in their homework because their maid threw it away.  I had parents who literally say, "Do you know how much money I make?" as an explanation for why their child did not have to turn in their homework.

Oh Orange County.  I do not miss you.  Or your traffic.  Or your creepily manicured lawns.  Or your lack of litter.  Or your lack of ethnic diversity.

Real Housewives of the Orange County was my gateway show into the franchise.  From here, I started watching New York (go Carole!) and then kind of New Jersey, then Atlanta, then kind of Beverly Hills.  Seriously, the only person I related to was Carole from New York, who would put on her headphones and ignore everybody.

Now that Orange County is starting up again, I am finding myself drawn to it.  I must watch what I left behind.  And while that makes me kind of a jerk for knowing I will watch a certain amount of smug satisfaction, I'm not sure if that's better or worse than watching with horror, knowing that what I was watching was SO close.

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