Something

I write. I delete. I write. I delete.

I am conflicted between wanting to express what I've been feeling about this latest incident with the teenager and this feeling that it's private...or maybe just that it's boring. I mean, aren't we all just a little tired of the ongoing saga of my wayward stepson? I know I'm tired. I get the feeling my friends and family are tired of it.

I guess there just isn't much more anyone can say...we're beyond surprise or alarm. We're in full-on acceptance of the fact that nothing is going to change unless 1) he decides to change it, and 2) the people around him decide, as Jeff VanVonderen always says, "There's nothing we won't do to help you get better, but there's nothing we will do to help this continue." Enabling sucks.

And so, I'm done talking about that topic for now. Even though it colors everything else I talk about...

There are bigger things happening in the world. People are experiencing tragedy they did not ask for and could not have prevented. And my heart goes out to them. I want to reach through the television and rescue those tiny orphans. Instead, I sent my donation. And good thoughts. Because at least it's something and something seems a lot better than nothing.

The Fluffy Stuff

Wow, turn around for a second and it's been 11 days since you last blogged.

I never told you this, blogosphere, but I had been toying with the idea of writing a 25 days of Christmas blog...or rather blogs, since there would have to be 25 of them. But then I couldn't narrow down the theme enough to make it feel manageable...and then, well, it turns out that I had almost nothing to blog about for nearly half of the month, so I guess it's good that I didn't take on that particular challenge. Whew.

Not to say that the contents of my last blog were nothing, mind you. In fact, I thought I might have to make a very special appointment with my therapist in order to process that bit of information (therapy has been put on hiatus), but as with most things, it fades with each morning that I wake up. Now I'd say it's been moved from my mental "examples of failure to protect unborn children" file and put in the "possible explanations for Owen's autism" folder...which is to say that it's soaking into the fabric of my daily existence...which is okay.

Man, I hate it when serious stuff creeps into what I think are going to be light and fluffy blogs. Well, in an effort to balance out the heft of the beginning of this entry, let's talk about reality television, shall we?

Danny won Biggest Loser by losing more than half of his original body weight in, what, less than 6 months? There's no way that can be healthy, but it sure does make for good TV. Plus, Shay gets to come back and get paid $1000 for every additional POUND she loses! Forget health, Subway knows how to motivate.

Top Chef Las Vegas is also over and the egomaniac won. This displeases me. I feel like they were all fairly equal in terms of culinary talent and therefore one of the two nice guys should have taken the grand prize. But did you see this interview with the winning Voltaggio? Did he say he has children or is he speaking in the future tense? Because I don't remember ever hearing about any children and it makes me a little sad to think he might have some, but never mentioned them. Oh, and on one other Top Chef-related note, did you hear about this? It's like my dreams became television producers.

The Amazing Race also came to an exciting close. Perhaps to make up for Top Chef's change of locales for the finale (or not), it ended in Las Vegas! I have to say it was one of my favorite Amazing Race finales even though it didn't have all the suspense of making them fly from, say, Alaska to Hawaii mid-leg. It was no surprise who won, but it was still fun. My Sunday nights now feel empty.

Somehow it's already time for the finale of So You Think You Can Dance. I feel like the auditions took longer than the competition. My favorite part of this season was the guest appearance of The Legion of Extraordinary Dancers. Not that some of the contestants aren't great dancers, but those guys seem to defy gravity. As for picking a winner, I like Legacy and Russell, but I don't really care that much.

And over in the category of happy returns, both Intervention and Hoarders are back! Hooray for dysfunction and mental illness! I know, I know, but how can you possibly look away? Plus, sometimes they get better, which makes it all okay, right? Right?

There's more, I'm sure, but my Tivo is calling me.

Disturbed

Well, Monday now promises to be the most disturbing night on television. 

After having watched Intervention, Obsessed and Jon and Kate Plus 8 last night (thanks, Tivo), am I still thinking about the heroine addict who sold all of his possessions to buy drugs? The obsessive-compulsive who wears her dead father's bloody clothes? No, I'm still pondering the public implosion of Jon and Kate's relationship.

I don't read tabloids unless I'm on a plane (really, that's the only time I allow myself to buy US Weekly), but, like everyone, I had heard about the alleged affairs. I knew that people were saying terrible things. But I didn't really believe any of it. And I didn't think anyone would let it impact the show. (If you're sitting there wondering WTF this is all about, the Vancouver Sun ran this snarky-but-decent recap of the drama.)

Last night's episode was just sad. Really sad. I think they actually think they are putting up some sort of facade. To listen to them go on and on about how they are committed to making sure that their kids don't get hurt in all of this, while they are essentially broadcasting the demise of their relationship to the world...it's delusional. 

I mean, some level of delusion is probably normal (even necessary) during a traumatic time, but it's not the kind of thing I'd want documented for the rest of my life. Or my kids' lives. 

I just don't know how they can possibly keep doing a show. There's paparazzi watching their kids' birthday party. They can hardly look at each other. It's creepy and sad and just depressing. And not entertaining (and this is coming from someone who enjoys shows about addicts hitting rock bottom).

Make it stop, TLC. Make it stop. 

Filler

When I don't blog for a long stretch (like lately), I like to tell myself that it's because I couldn't think of anything to blog about...only that's not really true, since most of what I blog about is the mundane and I've got lots of mundanity to spare. 

So I have no excuses, really, other than taking on two extra projects (Hawaii, here we come!), plus working my still-newish job in corporate America...yet I still found time to blog about American Idol last week, but you know, I was moved in that case. 

I expect to be moved in, perhaps, a different way this evening when I watch the season premiere of Intervention and the series premiere of Obsessed. As I said to my friends yesterday, I would watch a 24/7 network devoted to addicts and the strange things they do. It's sick and wrong, but I guess that's sort of what morbid curiosity is all about. And clearly I'm not alone in this, as I stumbled upon a Facebook group tastefully titled, "I'm Addicted to Intervention," which has more than 3,000 members. (Can we all be wrong?)

Right, so what was I saying about having nothing to blog about? Yeah, that. I'll try harder tomorrow.