Viewing entries tagged
infidelity

THE INFERNO BURNS IN NAPA

THE INFERNO BURNS IN NAPA

Okay, I’m just going to say what nobody here wants to say:  Meghan, at this early point in time – just three episodes in – I think we’re all prepared and very willing to like you.  Personally, I think that you come off as intelligent and pretty and so unbelievably thin that I’d like to meet with you privately so you might rub yourself against me in the hopes that whatever parasite you have been infected with leaps directly from your ravaged digestive system into my own. I want your good standing on this show to grow and to prosper, like a beautiful cherry tree that I hope you get to plant in the front yard of a home you will never have to move from, a tree so lovely that Shannon will not be able to stop herself from pissing on it during a luncheon because of that one time when you didn’t flirt with her husband.   And with that form of kindness in the forefront of my mind, I have to tell you to stop it with the fucking hashtags.  I let the “hashtag coolstepmom” go by because it was your first episode and I was too busy contemplating the vast similarities between Tamra and that bile-spewing demon from The Exorcist and chanting safe words that might keep Vicki from shrieking and rifling through the latest issue of the DSM book of psychological disorders in my effort to properly diagnose Shannon as anything other than “simply out of her mind crazy,” but this week you did it again and actually allowed the words “hashtag over-it” to escape from your lips.  And so, with genuine affection, I must implore you to never let such a thing happen again and I will even use vernacular you are drawn to in the hopes that I achieve a breakthrough here:  hashtag stopthisfuckingnonsenserightnow.

THE CORPSE BRIDE & GROOM OF THE OC

THE CORPSE BRIDE & GROOM OF THE OC

There’s something rather devastating about watching people who are just so completely devastated.  It’s a different kind of thing than looking at cruel people acting like heathens or reckless adults behaving like toddlers whose parents have negated the advice of professionals and instead decided to see what might happen if they stopped administering the Ritalin for a couple of days.  No, watching pure sadness as it unfolds across the airwaves feels morose, uncomfortable – and that was before the fake funeral transpired.

Shannon and David, both in their second season on The Real Housewives of Orange County, are stuck in the muck-filled middle of attempting to recover from David’s adultery, a terribly unfortunate outcome of a marriage that has only been presented to viewers as conflicted at it’s very best and utterly barren at it’s very worst.  These are two people who earned themselves an awful lot of screen time during their inaugural season and never once exhibited a union that felt anything but scarily fraught with tension.  It was David who made me feel the kind of panging anxiety that caused me to want to figure out a way to unzip my skin and then wash it a few times before pulling it back on while I was locked away in some private room, far away from his glaring eyes and impenetrable demeanor – and it was Shannon who made me wonder why she was airing her anguish to the world, especially since it seemed to consume her.