I like to get into reality shows at the very end of the season. I do not like the Bachelor or Bachelorette when there are 25 people involved. I like it when there are only 10. Same thing with American Idol. I think Survivor is one of the only reality shows I’ve even been into start to finish, season after season. That’s because I just knew I was going to be on the show.
(It’s been awhile since I flat out embarrassed myself on the blog…how about I post my Survivor audition from 2001? Awesome. I crack myself up, and I’m not even ashamed to admit it. And this video not only makes me laugh but also gives me warm fuzzies because that was the very apartment where I peed on a stick and found I was going to be a mama for the first time, and the very apartment that I brought that sweet baby home to.)
I’ve never gotten into Dancing With the Stars, even at the end. That is, until this season. I knew all along that Shawn Johnson was in it. And I knew all along I would root for her because in my heart of hearts I wish that I were a 5 foot power house gymnast instead of a 5′ 9 mediocre volleyball player. When I was a kid, I would constantly pretend that I was a world famous gymnast. I can still remember my “vaults” through the living room with my little brother as the judge. I remember the beam my dad built me when I was a kid. I remember how excited I was when we moved when I was 10 and our new house had a bi-level backyard with my very own railroad tie “beam”. I spent hours perfecting my rountines. This wasn’t only a thing I did as a kid. When I went away to college, I briefly joined the intramural gymnastics team. Were they called the Flying Cats? Not sure…like I said, it was brief. It was then that I learned to do a back handspring, if you could call it that. For some reason I could never quite land on my feet. I always ended up on my knees, even though at eighteen I was still convinced that the only thing that stood between me and Olympic Gold was 9 inches and about $30,000 we didn’t have when I was growing up to spend on my gymnastics career.
Okay, I so don’t remember where I was going with this blog. I’m watching the DTWS finale right now and hoping that Shawn Johnson wins. I wish they would just hurry up and get there. I don’t really care about the recap of the entire season. Thank goodness for dvr so I can fast forward all this nonsense. Except I don’t fast forward those commercials for that show Wipeout. Does that remind anyone else of Double Dare? I told Derek I wanted to go on that show because it looked like Double Dare for grown ups. Derek forbid it. The last thing he needs is a wife and mother of his children who was injured on a goofy game show, and seeing how I have a knack for injuring myself doing silly things, he’s probably right.
Doesn’t any reality show want me?
Speaking of Derek, I was talking to him on the phone this afternoon and I have to tell you what he said. So we’re chit chatting about our days, and he tells me that a morning meeting ran long and “that changed the entire complexion of his day.” Wow. That has got to be the nerdiest sentence ever uttered! I have no idea what he said after that because all I could think about was the “complexion” of his day, which led me to think about my own complexion that has been completely and totally out of control since Camryn was born 10 months ago. Seriously, am I fifteen again? Zits, please go away. I am almost 30. Now I’m contending with wrinkles, and I’m done with you.
And on that note, I will wrap up this blog. I think I needed to get some words out.