Thursday, June 18, 2009


I have a confession.
I succumbed to one of the "Real Housewives of..." shows on Bravo. I recorded The Real Housewives of New Jersey (mainly because I know some - but not like
I watched most of the episodes while home sick this week, lying on my sofa, drifting in and out of sleep.

After watching the recorded "Finale" last night, I didn't miss much in my drifting.

These women might exist but who thinks they're real? Real means the norm, the median, what you get when you look under the top-heavy hair of Jersey Girls. "The higher the hair, the closer to God" syndrome. These...uh...ladies are caricatures- stereotypes of what the real housewives in the other 49 states think of New Jersey.

Jersey housewives work just as hard as Iowan housewives to maintain a modest lifestyle that doesn't involve Botox, new bub-bies, or onyx and granite floors in a cavernous house.

Entertaining? Yep.
Real? Nope.
Give me One Life to Live - at least I know that's scripted.

BTW: I'm not a Jersey Girl - but I'm as close to Jersey as one can get without getting my feet wet.

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