Reality Bites

When the average American reflects on the years important in American history, many forget the great year of 1992. Many remember 1992 as the year Bill Clinton left Little Rock for the Oval Office. Others remember 1992 as the year that Bradley Nowell and the rest of Sublime sang about the atrocities of the L.A Riots and explained it only takes "40oz. to Freedom." However I remember 1992 for something much more important, the beginnings of reality television. The television masterminds Mary-Ellis Bunim and Jonathan Murray created the first American reality series we all know as "The Real World." The purpose of the reality show is to focus on the lives of seven strangers who live together in a multi million dollar house for several months. Dozens of cameramen and thousands of hidden cameras record the interpersonal relationships of "the seven strangers, who are picked to live in a house, work together and have their lives taped" (sound familiar). After concocting a cast that consisted of a gay man, a devout Christian, the naive southern girl, sexually driven twenty-somethings and endless hooch, reality TV became an instant hit. Since the birth of reality television in 1992 we have since created pop-stars, given Flavor Flav a second chance, gotten to fist pump on the Jersey Shore, made being a Housewives cool, learned how to flip houses, taught D-List celebrities how to dance and figured out that most of America is NOT smarter than a 5th Grader.

Like alcohol and caffeine, reality tv is a legally addictive drug in which I am totally hooked. My reality tv stint began with The Real World and American Idol, I then added on a few trashy VH1 shows and now my DVR is consumed with nothing but America's next top chefs, models, designers, artist and cake decorators. Although most reality tv shows give undiscovered talent the opportunity to hit it big, they only require your sanity in return. There are currently three shows on television in which sanity has an expensive price tag; The Hills, all of the Real Housewives and Jon & Kate + 8.

The Hills first began as a spin-off from the AMAZING reality show "Laguna Beach." America watched as Lauren Conrad left Orange County for the Hollywood Hills. In order to stay realistic to the life a high-school graduate, MTV set Lauren up with an internship at Teen Vogue, gave her a brand new Mercedes and set her up in a two-story apartment over looking the Hollywood sign. Shortly after her arrival in L.A, Lauren was quickly given friends like Audrina Patridge and Whitney Port. Together the two were forced to listen to the whining of L.C. L.C's whining mainly consisted of boys, Heidi and more boys. Eventually viewers became bored with L.C and moved on to the more insane. Spencer and Heidi's dysfunctional marriage, Brodie and Frankie's bromance and Kristen Cavallari bitchy-ness. Much like The Real World, the greatest episodes of The Hills are the result of a long night of Red Bull and Vodka at La Deux.

My latest obsession, any cast of the Real Housewives series. Rather than actually depicting what it is like to be a rich housewife, the real housewives have shown us that drama is not just for high schoolers, but also the fifety-somethings.

The final stop in crazy town is at the doorstep of John & Kate + 8. Their story unlike The Hills, is simple. Man like girls, girl forces guy to marry her, girl has twins, girl is not happy, girl has six more kids. After realizing that they will now have eight children under the age of 2, the couple decided to whore themselves out on national television. Constant chaos was an immediate ratings grabber and with the ratings came the end of the Gosselin's. Rather than hold on to their last shred of dignity, Kate Gosselin did what any mother of 8 would do, join the cast of Dancing with the Stars. However Jon Gosselin will receive the award for being the biggest douchebag. Before finalizing his divorce he became besties with Michael Lohan (World's #1 Deadbeat Dad).

Reality TV trash keep up the beer bashes, petty fights and scandalous hook-ups, I will be watching.

Inspiration Douchebags

My next topic is devoted to a group of men who everybody loves to hate, Douchebags! Douchebags have always been a unique group of men who pride themselves on their tan skin, 6-pack abs and spiky hair. This new breed of the male species entered the social scene years ago thanks mostly to a man named Ed Hardy, relax I know he is not a real person. However, if Ed Hardy were a person, I picture him to be old, short, round, balding, hanging onto what he has left of his youth while he is covered in gold jewelry and body hair(maybe I just subconsciously described Christian Audigier). Although Ed Hardy is an easy target, Affliction is equally too blame. Affliction is a multi-million dollar T-SHIRT company whose designing capability is restricted to the name "Affliction," dead angels and crosses. Together these two companies have successfully bejeweled douchebags from the Jersey Shore to Dallas, Texas.

The Jersey Shore needs no explanation, Guido's are the ultimate douchebags. MTV of was able to create a popular reality television series in which these douchebags taught us the importance of G.T.L. The next city that has fallen victim to the ways of the douchebags is Dallas, Texas. Dallas has become a breeding ground for this newest group of social climbers. The two most popular douchebag hot spots have taken over uptown like a bad cause of Mono. The first hot spot is filled with loud techno music, blue lighting and $12 drinks. The single "noun" clubs along McKinney Ave (Lotus, Aura, Dragonfly, Republic)are the places to be seen among their in-crowd. Their street cred is earned as long as they attend clubs with a doorman and bottle service. The second and most obvious, any gym with free weights. This hot spot is an opportunity for the normal folk to see the douchebags stripped of their Ed Hardy and Affliction uniforms. While at the gym they put aside the jewels for Nike shorts and an old sorority date party t-shirt with cut off sleeves, leaving their precious pecs and abs exposed for all to see (also be aware of the strategically placed forearm sweatband). In case you are blind and have no idea what I am talking about, just listen for the loud grunts and the manly five-highs. Ladies I have now warned you of two places where these obnoxious men flock, and I urge you, beware of The Hardy!

To all the Dallas Douchebags we raise our Lone Star beers and salute you. Thank you the countless jokes and hours of entertainment.

Inspiration People Watching

America's favorite pastime has always been baseball, well for this American, it's people watching. People watching is a fabulous hobby for many reasons, it's cheap, it's non-addictive and it provides countless hours of entertainment. Most of my favorite people watching stories come to me from the dark and ominous hallways of Skyline High School. I could sit for hours at the end of the hallway and watch pubescent teens get to 1st base, while at the other end of the hallway, girls swing their Hello Kitty back-packs and attempt to rip out each others weave out with their five inch nails. As I stand there for a brief second, I absorb all of the chaos and I am reminded of the scenes from "Mean Girls" where Janice Ian describes the demographics of the school lunch room. Sadly my hobby is cut short by the one-minute warning bell, back to reality......

Being a teacher is a great profession, because unlike most other professions, we have ample opportunities to escape from reality for weeks at a time. My escape from reality came two weeks ago when Megan, Caroline and myself packed up the Honda for a cross-Texas road trip to South Padre Island. I have to admit I was a tad skeptical of this trip at first. Five years ago if you had told me I was going to Padre for Spring Break I would thrown my beer bong, a thirty pack of Keystone, two bathing suits and a pair of flip flops into a duffel bag then hit the road. Being the now, responsible and mature adult that I am(wink wink)I was worried that Padre was going to be a tad crazy for us "seasoned veterans." As we approach hour eight in the car I realize, this is it! People-Watching Heaven!

We first approach Coca-Cola Beach slightly after 1 pm on Wednesday afternoon. We were welcomed by the aroma of stale beer, salt water and 18,000 drunk people singing "Shots, Shots, SSShots." Since we were rollin' V.I.P that week (staying with an island native) we were centrally located on a deck perched over the entire crowd. As I stood proudly on the rickety wooden ledge, I watched as my minions drank themselves into a state of retardation. It was when I first heard the chant "Raider..Power" that I knew the Texas Tech tent would be the source of all my great stories. The men proudly circled around their self made beer pong table and beat their chest while screaming "TAKE THAT SON!" Since throwing a ping-pong ball into a red solo cup is the only skill some Tech students have going for them (I love my Tech friends, I just like to give them a hard time), the girls watched on with with expressions of sheer amazement on their faces. Breaks were taken only when a LMFAO song would hit the loud speakers, which was a cue for the guys to sway back and forth with their hands in the air behind the girl that happened to be closest to them when the song came on. After several hours of beer, sun and laughs it was time to say good-bye to Coca-Cola Beach and back to reality....

The Cat Whisperer

Move over Cesar Millan, here comes Sarah Imhoff a.k.a The Cat Whisperer. This self appointed title came after a very tramatic car ride to Austin with 2 cats in the back seat. I will first introduce the 2 cats. The Garfield looking one is Mac, who was named after Coach Mac Brown and from what I can tell, also weighs about the same as Mac Brown. If his overwhelming size wasn't enough, Mac had shed enough to make the Jetta look like a life size snowglobe, Orange hair everywhere! Then there is the eldest cat, Toby. If Toby were a person, he would be the obnoxious kid in class who is constantly talking and running around the classroom, and I would be the one politely telling Megan that she might want to consider getting him ritalin prescription. Oh I will also add that a couple months ago Toby attempted Kitty Suicide by jumping 4 stories off an apartment balcony (life is hard in Frisco, Texas). Somehow the cat survived, only to torture me.

Our roadtrip trauma began before we even left the Dallas city limits. Mac decides to pee all over Megan in the driver seat, strike 1. After a bottle of disinfectant, 1 washed pillow, a bottle of body splash and a lot of Resolve we were finally ready to pull out of my complex. Being the attention whore that he is, Toby then vomits all over the backseat, strike 2. Repeat cycle from strike 1, disinfect, spray, wash, we are ready again. Distracted by the cat vomit we realized that we are minus 1 passenger. Toby was staring at us from across the street, and I swear he smiled at us before he escaped into the barred hallway. Megan and I immediatley bolted for Toby who gave us a good run around the building before we trapped him in a dead-end hallway. I will also add that this whole charade was witnessed by hot neighbor who I haven't had the guts to talk to, strike 3. Needless to say these cats are lucky to be alive, they were one bodily function away from being the newest residents at the Dallas SPCA.

Inspiration Wal-Mart

My blogging inspriation finally came to me this afternoon after a long and exhausting trip to the "Neighborhood" Wal-Mart. For those of you that have never been to my local Wal-Mart, I will paint you a picture. Wal-Mart is strategically placed in the middle of two-worlds. Wal-Mart unites two very unique worlds, across the highway (behind the world's biggest head-shop)is a rundown housing development where the requirement to live there must either be to have gold teeth or to park your car in the front yard. Then there are the uptowners...I do not need to explain them, we all know the uptowners. Designer handbags, perfectly done hair, bronzed tan and shopping for the trendiest food they can find in a neighborhood wal-mart, which from what I found is Hummus.

My typical Wal-Mart trips consist of children running unsupervised through the store, they then throw everything they can find with sugar into the basket while the uptowners silently judge and say to themselves "if those were my kids...". Well today was no exception. I went to Wal-Mart to grab a box of cereal and Lean Cusine for school tomorrow. I mentally prepared myself for the excursion, I immediately pulled into the parking lot and got the front spot, so exciting! normally I am forced to park in the muddy "pseudo" lot that is lined with mud holes and a cemetery (seriously a cemetery). Still on a high from the great parking spot, I make a B-Line for the cereal aisle. I first come across a cute little boy who is trying to convince his Mom that he NEEDS these particular fruit snacks. After Mom finally put her foot down and said no, the little one decided to get her back by knocking all of my cereal boxes on the floor. AWK! I grabbed the box before I witnessed a public beating. After grabbing item # 2, I go the checkout counter. 19 lanes, 6 self-checkout lanes and 7 were open. The total for my purchase was $6.17 and total amount of time I waited in line 17 minutes. So I ask you this friends, why do we continue going to Wal-Mart?