"Stop Looking at Me Swan".

Today I wanted to see The O.C. The prospect of seeing The O.C. made me arguably giddy. I had missed the last two episodes of said show, and was determined to watch it tonight. I made sure to be out of my meetings in time, brought my knitting to the living room, and parked myself in front of the t.v. at 8:30pm. Yes, I even watched part of American Idol in order to make sure that I did not miss The O.C.

Perhaps now you can understand why I wanted to jam my knitting needle into my temple when this came on instead. I could only watch the first five minutes of the show before become horrified at the premise of the show. (In actuality, I could not change the channel right away for being completely frozen and traumatized at seeing the opening sequence which included gorey pictures). Instead of Seth Cohen's quirky and oh-so-wonderful witticisms, I got "average" women who were so dissatisfied by the way that they looked that they wanted to undergo 3 months of hell (read: liposuction, boob jobs, facial reconstruction, and tummy tucking) on national television so that they could ultimately compete in a "beauty" pageant.

The farthest I want to go in reality makeover shows is Queer Eye, thank you very much.

Needless to say, I was actually productive between 9 and 10pm today. Go figure.