It's Not Me, It's You

Dear Real Housewives:

How are you?  Would you like a drink? Yes - probably some really pricey Chardonnay.  Are you ok?

Because - you know, like, this is really tough.  These things are so awkward, you know?  And we just met, really - I've only had access to Bravo through local cable since the beginning of the year, and I was like, so actually excited to get to you know you all - I'd heard so many things about you.

And at first, you know - it was like, kind of exciting, especially for someone as hooked on reality TV as me!   Being able to see your homes and hair and plastic surgery and nails and clothes and kids and husbands and boyfriends and lunches - Omigod, I was like, I can't believe I'm actually seeing constant reruns of your lunches and dinners and the SHOPPING - I'm all like, look at them!  They really don't do much except spend money and catfight!  All of the online rumors and comment were sooo totally true, and I was like 'Dude!'  

And yes, I know that some of you have family issues with addiction and arrests and deaths and broken nails and second/third/fourth marriages, I so totally do for real know that.  Maybe we don't get to see those things, and yeah - who am I to judge your lives?  I'm trying to have the appropriate addytude for this.  I have no idea how tough it is to keep up in your world.  

The world that you choose to show, to put out there in TV land, so see, it's like......us viewers?  Well, like - we do get to judge you now kind of, you know what I mean?  And honestly, I've already lived through junior high with girls like you.

So... ummmm.  I'm so sorry to have to say this, but - I need to go in another direction with my TV viewing.  I guess I'm just not ready for your petty girl fights and your backstabbing and scheming and shopping and preening for the camera and for the love of God, your constant sense of entitlement.   And like really, please don't feel bad - as they say, it's not me, it's you.  

Stop, really.  Don't screech.  You didn't have me at hello.  You....you....COMPLETEly bore me.  I just need something else in my reality TV, someone losing weight, or cooking cool foods, or scrambling across the world looking for clues, or eating ticks, or sewing runway designs or dancing or something....anything ANYTHING.

Maybe next season, you could like actually really be...weeeelllll....REAL.  As in, real to what's going on with the rest of the housewives in the country.  Like, lose your home through foreclosure, and then lose your job or your household income.  And then, try to pay your kid's college tuition or pay for school lunch.  Or try to shop when your credit cards are gone.  And buy groceries and pay for healthcare and still give your kids a sense of security when they see mom crying and dad totally stressed out.

If that happens, if something changes, maybe we could still work it out.  And I'll check in on you now and again, of course, especially if like there's nothing else to watch.   Sure, I'll call.

But until then, I think it's best if I just don't see you for a while.  Because you know, I'm just not that into you.