I wrote this blog a few weeks ago when the Philadelphia Eagles had their bye week. Sundays are just not the same without your football team. Below is an excerpt from the day that I wish I could never remember.
I don’t like to travel much on weekends during football season. I can’t handle rushing home in time for kickoff and I really don’t like watching games in other cities with other fans. It makes me uncomfortable. Luckily, with the Eagles’ bye week I was able to make plans to travel north to good old Hoboken, NJ to visit some of my Scranton friends. A Saturday in fall looks pretty nice in Hoboken. The streets were impressively decorated for Halloween and the weather was perfect. We all had a great time and it was nice to see people. Food was eaten and beer was guzzled.
Then there was Sunday morning. It was weird for me. I still packed an Eagles sweatshirt but the fact that I was not in Philadelphia, watching a pre-game show or fighting with friends about where we were watching the game, made me uneasy. I was in quite the mood. So, as I sit on the couch, secretly hoping we were going to be getting the hell out of New Jersey soon, I noticed what TV show my friend has turned on. Prepare yourself.
True Life: I Hate My Hair.
TRUE LIFE I HATE MY HAIR!?
How bout, True Life: I Hate My Life During the Bye Week.
So, my friend and I sat there watching this poor girl talk about how she colored and straightened her hair so much that it just stopped growing. This girl had a mullet. It was a shame. Then the other girl hated her body hair so much that she was adding thousands of dollars to her already thousands of dollars in debt. Her poor husband, who was suffering a brain condition after returning from Iraq and about to be retired because of it watched his wife throw their money away. It was all so sad. But why were we watching this? Is that what my girl friends really watch all the time? God help them if they do.
After that miserable episode, my friend finally changed to something more appealing and on my level, Chelsea Lately. Now that I can handle. I’ve read her books and genuinely enjoyed the hour of her show.
Then something happened that I was not expecting, nor do I think the other girls were expecting either. At this point, the other girls (except for one who had a rough night) had risen from their hangovers and the poorly assembled couch was occupying more bodies than it could handle. (I will say though, I do miss hanging out with my college roommates.) Of course they turned on Bravo and the first season of The Real Housewives of New Jersey was on. Apparently this was HUGE. You would have thought we were watching Beyonce perform live with Jay-Z. The reaction from these girls was amazing. Amazing for what was actually going on. Jumping and screaming on the couch like Tom Cruise on Oprah.
“Oh my God, this is HAPPENING! We didn’t even know!!”
Didn’t know what, guys?!!? No. Clue. What. Was. Going. On.
I quickly learned that these women (and their children) drastically and dramatically changed from their first season to their current season. I don’t follow these shows nor do I care to so this was all just overwhelming for me. So I got up and got myself a nice cold Diet Coke and sat there eating some fun sized Milky Ways and Butterfingers for the next hour while the girls “ohhh-ed” and “OMG-ed” at the tube. I did request them to find a channel that was airing a football game and one girl came back into the room and said, “Wait what? Giants Redskins what is this?”
I simply and genuinely replied, “Yeah, it should be a good game. It is an important game for the NFC East…” (Crickets).
You know what, I didn’t even get to see a second of that game because at that very second they changed to the channel there was a commercial. Back to Housewives it was. All I kept thinking to myself was, “Why do people like this exist?!?”
I’d rather be nervous, biting my nails, almost in tears, watching Mike Vick fumble the football once or twice.