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January 30, 2003: Back away from the needles

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Last night, when I came over to dinner and also to poke through my mom's old crafting stuff in search of knitting patterns, my mom warned me "Be careful. This thing can get addictive."

Um. Too late. After dinner we went off to two stores in search of knitting supplies for me, including a circular needle of a particular size, and several skeins of yarn so I can actually start a real project - instead of all the little sample squares which are currently littering the floor of my bedroom because the cats think they're fun to steal and sit on. I'm making a baby blanket, regardless of the fact that I know no children young enough to actually *need* a baby blanket. Hence, this is actually a doll blanket. Oh yes. For my little niece, who probably could care less, but I talked to my little sister and she thinks a blanket would be cool and I really, really, really need to actually *make* something at this point.

This really is addicting. I'm making bargains with myself on how much time I am allowed to spend knitting. I can knit for one hour but then I have to go for a bike ride and return the DVD's. I can knit for another hour but then I have to press and hem those curtain panels. I can knit for just a little bit but I have choir practice so I have to stop, even if I'm in the middle of a row.

I'll have another lesson next week, where she says she's going to show me how to add and reduce stitches to the rows, in preparation for actually making parts of sweaters. My youngest nephew has a birthday in a week. I wonder if that's enough time for me to whip up something simple. Richard is going to come home from training mollusk handlers all this week and find his wife hunched in a chair, yarn permanently affixed to her hands. This is bad. I think I may need a 12-step program soon.

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I've successfully avoided watching most of those reality shows on TV lately, after that one brief foray into the murky world of Survivor (but that was the original one and I haven't watched a single episode of any thereafter). But the premise behind Joe Millionaire has been far too intriguing, even for my high moral standards (okay, even I can't type that without snickering). This is because, while I think the prospect of women competing to marry some guy just because he has money is shallow and ridiculous enough, in this case, they're competing for a guy they only *think* has money, when in reality he's a blue-collar worker who will probably never earn a million dollars in his life. So Monday night I decided to watch it just once, to see how it was.

First of all, as I was poking around trying to figure out what time the show was airing, I noticed that there was another reality show before it on FOX, called Bridezillas. The description said it was about women getting married and their personality issues.

You know. Just when you think television can stoop no lower….

I avoided Bridezillas, because I didn't think I was quite ready for something that disastrous, and turned on Joe Millionaire later. I guess I really ought to quit saying 'just when you think things can't get any worse.' Because they did. For anyone who *didn't* watch this revolting little show this week, Evan (who does not seem like anything I'd want to pursue even if he *was* worth $50 million) and one of his four remaining golddigge….I mean contestants got a bit tipsy and went off in search of somewhere private to get busy. And if this weren't bad enough, while they didn't actually *show* what the two were doing, they had subtitles! Slurp. Smack. Unh. Gulp!

So. Now I've seen it. I think I could have been quite happy having never seen it in the first place, but at least the intrigue is gone. It's only replaced by a sort of sick fascination for the whole concept. Not, mind you, that I'm planning on watching the show again. The fascination is for the fact that there is that many people willing to debase themselves, all in the name of a few minutes of fame. And even more fascinating is that there are networks willing to let them do it.

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