Luckily, Dr. Krog responds well to requests that begin with "I've got tequila, could you bring ice?" Or even just "I've got tequila". So he brought ice and mixer, and I mixed it all up and salted the rims, and we sat on the back porch and enjoyed the evening.
And it occurred to me that all my "guilty pleasures" as admitted on this blog are of the gustatory sort. The edible ilk. The masticatable mien. Which is to say that I adore food. But you know that.
So I thought i'd mention my favorite TV shows, which I watch at my parents' house, which is the way-station of my life. Their home defies physics by being halfway between my house and anywhere. Now, these are not the shows that I buy on DVD and watch repeatedly. They're not even the shows I discuss in public, with real people. No, these are truly "guilty pleasures" that I enjoy only when I am alone with the baby. Because t.rex doesn't judge.
1. You Are What You Eat on the BBC.
An insane little golem of a woman takes control of obese Brits and forces them to undergo all-celery-juice diets and workouts. The best part is when they (or a tortured and sadistic loved one) keeps a food diary for a week, and Gillian shows them the entire week's worth of fried goodies and pastries at once. Very good for making one feel nutritionally superior.*
2. What Not To Wear on TLC.
A gay man and a Jewish midget accost innocent people with bad taste, insult all their clothes before throwing their closet in the trash, and give them a fabulous makeover and $5000 shopping spree. The fun part is that I know all the rules by heart, but I still dress like I do. Jackets, slacks, and kitten heels just don't cut it for a nursing mother with a baby strapped to her chest who has to climb 3 stories up a play structure to rescue a toddler who's just had a potty accident. But one day, i'm going to pull a Stacy and Clinton on myself and come out the other side looking fabulous.
3. America's Next Top Model.
That's right. You heard me. America's Next Top Model.
I caught part of a marathon for "cycle 10" and couldn't look away. It was like a nature show where giant stick insects battle each other for.... uh.... whatever insects want. It doesn't really make sense to me. But it's just surreal how these tall, insecure, manly-looking chicks get a little bit of hair and makeup and lighting and are suddenly bizarre, beautiful, fierce origami cranes.
I don't even know if the spastic flamingos up there are from the right cycle-- they don't look like actual people. But I can still make fun of them.
Other embarrassing favorites include Nanny 911, Whose Wedding Is It Anyway, anything on Food Network involving fabulous cake, Hotel Inspector, or The Show Where the Fancy Hairdresser Swaps Jobs With the Redneck Gay Guy and Hair Pandemonium Ensues.
Shhh. Don't tell anybody that I have bad taste in TV.
You know how easily i'm embarrassed. ***
* I know it's still food related. And I know that I shouldn't be judgmental. But, honestly, my Five Guys burger and fries tastes sooooo much better when I see that table sagging with curries, pastries, biscuits, and McVitie's Death Slabs.
** Dr. Krog can't wait to get rid of my pajama pants and ugly shoes. Unfortunately, he has no idea how much it actually costs for a woman to look put together and wear nice shoes. I think it's going to make him cry.
*** Not easily, at least about my bad taste.