It is for similar reasons that I DVR any show on Discovery Health relating to primordial dwarfism. It's like the old time circus freak shows, but under the guise of medical enlightenment and discovery. I do not, however, watch the TLC show about midgets (ahem...I mean "little people") entitled "Little People, Big World" because it is far too fucking wholesome for my taste. However, it has some promise. You see, these two midget people have four children, three of whom are of normal stature and are actually attractive as far as humans go, and one of whom is a midget. I think the show will suddenly become more interesting when the midget child comes to terms with the fact that being a little person actually isn't cool at all, and that because he drew the short stick in life (pun very much intended) he'll be lucky to bang 5% of the girls his twin (and normal sized) brother will. I'll tune in the week he flips out and kills his family. Until then, I think I'll skip it.
I do not, however, understand my obsession with the Bravo show "Top Chef". Throughout my two year and four month marriage, I have "cooked" approximately two and a half times. There is a half time because once I attempted to cook something, got bored in the middle of it, and gave it to the dogs before I was able to serve it like a good wife to my husband. I find cooking so incredibly boring and inconvenient. I am not particularly impressed by people who are good cooks, nor do I truly enjoy food as a source of entertainment. These facts make my obsession with the show that much more baffling. However, to be honest, I first became interested in the show while watching Season 2 marathon on Bravo which featured contestant Sam, the tall, dark, and handsome-ish diabetic with no discernible personality. I will refrain from any comment here about my apparent attraction to men who tend to fit this exact description. I was sick with mononucleosis at the time, and Sam became a beacon of light to my sickened and tired soul. I watched the entire marathon from the comfort of my couch, and I was hooked. I now proudly have a vocabulary which includes such terms as rissolé , amuse-bouche, and mise en place. I now can tell you which vegetables should be minced as opposed to julienned or brunoised. I even have real opinions on the how much is "too much" when it comes to saffron in your classic paella. The irony, of course, is that while I watch this show and and scoff at a contestant's decision to serve the judges deviled eggs four ways instead of something more challenging (that amateur!) I will be happily munching away on a microwaved frozen lasagna- or more realistically, a bowl of cereal.
Ok, most realistically, cereal from the box.
(I would happily grind with Sam's peppermill.)
