I discovered something slightly horrifying last night about myself.
You see, (I need a little build-up to the story), I came home last night to an empty house - hubby had plans for the evening - and I put on my comfy clothes, heated up some leftovers in the microwave for dinner and poured myself a glass of wine before I plopped down in front of the boob tube for the night. It was shaping up to be quite a nice night.
And then... I put on the TV show "The Pussycat Dolls present: Girlicious". It was the finale - and I didn't want to miss it. (The fact that I didn't want to miss it is not the only horrifying part.) As I was watching the show with growing interest and emotion, I learned that I really enjoy trash like Girlicious. Not only that - Girlicious made me cry!!!!!! I was welling up as the skinny, young, self-absorbed girls learned they would be part of a formulated girl-group that was all about wearing as little clothing and as much makeup as possible. As these girls began their futures of whoring themselves for fame and fortune, I was touched.
When the show was done, I wiped away my tears, finished off my second glass of wine and went to bed.
Part of me thinks it's quite pathetic that I got so emotional. On the other hand, even girls who think of "being sexy" as their ultimate life goal deserve to be cried over, too.