A new crassness for TV

Sometime yesterday during my flurry of penpalling, an ad came on the screen advertising the newest in tasteless FOX reality shows. I didn't pay it much mind, other than to think "okay, that's really fucked up." But I figured it would be some sappy romantic one like the stupid "Who Wants to Marry My Dad" thing they had. Finding love, finding reconnection-- okay, sappy and syrupy, but kinda sweet in a way. And as an adopted child myself, I can appreciate such a feel-good sort of show.

But today, I saw the rest of the premise of the show, and my ire came up. Because it's just completely disgusting.

I'm talking about tonight's "special" on FOX called "Who's My Daddy."

Don't let the title fool you. It's not to be confused with Yankees fans taunting Pedro Martinez during Red Sox-Yankees playoff games. The premise of this show sinks to a new low that even "The Swan," in its horrifying glamorizing of all things superficial and encouraging the self-loathing of women with flaws (translation: everyone) everywhere, can't reach. Because "Who's My Daddy" sinks into the level of who someone *is* and where they come from, rather than what they look like.

The premise of the show goes like this: A young woman who was adopted as a baby is searching for her biological father. Over time, much in (what I imagine) will be Bachellor-like fashion, she'll get to know eight men who are potentially her dad. At the end of it, she has to choose which one she thinks is her biological father. If she's right, she wins a $100,000 prize. If she picks wrong, the man she picked wins the $100,000 prize.

Seriously-- how utterly disgusting is this?

Said woman picks a man, who has been trying to get close to her and make her think he's her father. Only to do a "sorry-- you lose! No dad for you!" And what is sicker, is if there is ANY honesty in this program? The woman's long-lost biological father is suppsedly THERE. And not telling her that he is her father (if he knows). But the producers in theory would know. What sick fucks would do such a thing to someone who doesn't know her own biological past?

Not that FOX had much decency anyway-- but this is just horrifying. Kudos to the affiliate who decided to dump this garbage and instead show something meaningful and introspective on adoption.

I mean, honestly. I could see the potential hook for getting this woman to do the program. I can see this right here, and even I, in my extreme distaste for reality TV, might have bought it hook, line, and sinker....

Producer: Melissa, we'd like you to be on a new reality show dealing with adoption.

Me: O-kay (skeptical)

Producer: What would happen is showing an adoptee's discovery of her biological heritage over six programs. The searching, the leads, the close-but-misses in connections, etc. Show what the search is really about.

Me: But I'm not searching for my biological parents right now.

Producer: No? Well, that's the great part-- see, we'll help you find your biological father. And after going through the experience, with our help, we hope that at the end, the two of you will be reunited.

Me: Interesting.

Producer: It's a fantastic story. Lots of feel good-ness and tremendous drama. It makes for a great show for us, and a personal celebration of discovery for you.

Me: Yeah, it would.

Producer: So? Would you be interested?



If approached in some fashion like this, I'd fall for it in a second. I don't deny it at all. I'd be that weak, because under every closed adoption child's armor is at least a little shred of "Where did I come from?" curiosity. It's stronger in some people than other, but it's always there. It's human nature to know who gave birth to you, who you resemble, etc. I've often wondered whose eyes I got or whose hair, for example. These traits are passed down and easy to see if there's a similarity. I also wonder about the hidden ones-- genetic diseases that I might be a carrier of, or things I'm at greater risk for. Medical history? What medical history? You're looking at the human extent of it. Right here.

Honestly-- I'm not looking for my biological parents... yet. I have tossed the idea around off and on for years, usually throwing it into the "I'll look when I have a child of my own" bin by the end of the round. But it's one of those things where I'd love to meet them, yet at the same time, I'm scared of the potential of rejection as well. I've heard the horror stories of adoptees trying to find their biological mothers, only to have doors literally slammed on their face or where after two or three visits, the mother wants no more contact. It would be heartbreaking.

Now imagine being set up where you'd not only have just missed the chance at meeting your biological parent, but are also playing a FUCKING GAME SHOW for said humiliation.

Ick. Talk about dangling carrots in the most obscene form imagineable.

A productive yet lazy day

Today's day consisted of the following...

- Watched the Patriots win a very weird game over San Francisco

- Racked my brain to come up with swaps for organized penpal swapping lists.

- Went through a plethora of slams for my own swaps, and managed to run out two brand-new pens today

- Went shopping at Walmart for house necessities, embroidery threads, and managed to pick up socks, nylons, and earrings that I hadn't planned on getting

- Went to Taco Hell

- Came home to more slams and swapping excitement

- Watched Erich play Star Wars on the Xbox

- Cuddled the eldest cat who insisted on sleeping ON my swapping stuff

- Made an even bigger mess of the living room

- Played a bit of RollerCoaster Tycoon 2 and made a lot of virtual people get very sick on a coaster of my own design


Ah yes... gotta love long weekends. I'm jealous that Erich still has two more days off.

~ Mel.

I won't fall ill... I won't fall ill...

Erich's been sick with a headcold since we returned from Pennsylvania, and I've been praying that I don't get it. The headcold itself is annoying, but it's the weeks upon weeks of painful coughing afterward that I don't want.

Every year that I've gotten a flu shot, I've managed to get through the winter with at most a mild case of bronchitis. This year? I'm a bit worried. And so are my ribs.

I've been doing okay for most of the week, but this morning I woke up feeling a bit stuffy. I'm just hoping it's morning grogginess.

I don't want to get sick... I don't want to get sick...

Yet again, I need a flamethrower

Since age 7 I've had this very odd addiction to a hobby that almost everyone knows about, but only those really into it know the depth and complexity that it can entail. Pen pal writing isn't for wimps, folks-- it's a bonafide life style. If you don't make it your lifestyle, you'll be taken over by the mounds of paper (usually in the form of friendship books, blank stationery, and envelopes) that can grow at an alarming rate.

I'm at the point of being completely overwhelmed by this problem of my own making. And while I love the hobby, I know that I need to cut back on it... dramatically. I just can't keep up with it all. And with the internet being such a boon to the swapping and exchange side of the hobby, things are at such a fast pace now. Even in my days of being a loser in high school with few friends, I wouldn't be able to keep up with this pace.

It can be as bad of an addiction as heroin, I tell ya. You spend as much money on postage and it just consumes your life.

*sigh*

And makes the people around you miserable sometimes, I think. Erich's already announced that if we are to ever get a house, I will have a room for all of my penpalling stuff. And unless it's going out the door or is paper in a trash bag, it's not allowed to leave the penpalling room. Ever.

Yeah--- it's time to start weedwhacking this hobby. *looks around her at the piles*

Dear fucking god I'm insane.

*bounces*

I have a little secret that I'm dying to tell, but honestly shouldn't yet because it's not yet an official thing. So instead, I'm going to bounce and be disgustingly girly, and annoying with the "I got a secret" dance.

;)

I failed miserably on drinking in moderation last night. Thankfully Erich was our designated driver. Otherwise we would have been crashing out down in Providence. I was about a shot's worth of alcohol shy of being shitfaced, I believe. I remember some things. I didn't black out. But I was in pretty bad shape last night.

Thankfully, since I mostly stuck to vodka-only drinks, the hangover this morning was pretty mild. The 550 milligram Anaprox pill helped, too. :) And the big glass of water I drank immediately upon waking up this morning (before going back to sleep for four hours).

When I finally (!) woke up for good around 11 a.m., I found myself lightly pinned by the two big gay cats. Colley was on my foot. Gus was curled around him. Fizzy then took the opportunity to come onto the bed and get all flirty. She's been... assertive lately.

After a good hearty breakfast, Erich and I headed down to the Wrentham Outlets to get some clothes for Erich and for me to browse around. They had a wool coat at London Fog that I loved-- it was very Paddington Bear style. But just a bit too small for me. *sigh* I did end up relishing in the joy that was the "all bras for $12" sale at Avenue and got some frilly things that are slightly more upscale than what I normally end up wearing. Erich bought some nice clothes and necessities. We got through ONE AISLE of the outlets in about three hours because we were browsing and just spent our money. That's it-- we didn't even walk around much. Ah well, next time, I guess!

It really was a perfect day to go shopping. The weather was near 50 degrees. It was sunny, but a bit windy. The snow is quickly melting, so in spots there were some slipping worries. But since it's not a wooded area, the sun was getting the snow along the walkways down very quickly. I have to admit, though-- I have this memory of everything being closed on New Year's Day. Maybe I was just home because Dad was always on-call on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day... but I swear I don't remember stores being open. *shrug* It seemed like one of the biggest shopping days of the year! (and honestly, the best sales that you could want).

We grabbed dinner at the Cracker Barrell before heading home. Erich sounds like ass after dealing with a headcold for the past few days, but seems to be rallying. Tomorrow will be a lazy day of watching Patriots football and getting my penpalling stuff done. :)

*bounces again*