Today was one of those days in which I woke up late, cursing. Today was one of those days in which I just realized that the shirt I've been wearing since 8 o'clock this morning is on backwards, with the tag peeking out of my collar under my chin, 14 hours later. Thanks, world, for letting me know I had my shirt on backwards. Love and fuzzy bunnies.

Have y'all heard that The Real World is coming to Austin? It starts shooting this month, and airs this summer. Rumors abound as to where the RW house will be located, but the best guesses are at the Austin City Lofts downtown, a house behind Waterloo, and the old Austin Theater on South Congress. For some odd unashamed-that-I-am-way-too-old-to-care reason, I am kind of excited by this news. I've always had an odd fascination with The Real World, even though it's become a twisted caricature of the great show it was originally.

Part of my ongoing love affair with the show stems from my AmeriCorps experience - living with ten other people for ten months two years in a row lends me to enjoy the kind of drama that can only develop between people who are strangers, diverse, and forced to watch each other floss in the morning AND at night. I can't get enough of it, really - it's one of the shows I miss most since downsizing our cable addiction.

The other facet of my reality TV fascination is that I can't imagine what it's like to go on one of those shows and then assimilate back into the real Real World. You know that feeling you get when you know lots of people are staring at you? If you have stage fright (like myself) you loathe that feeling. If you are a ham, you love it. I know plenty of center-stage people that would thrive in that environment, whose switch is flipped when they know they are performing for an audience, and that's how I imagine most reality TV particpants feel - like they've won the Center of Attention lottery.

When I was growing up, I used to dream about being on camera (music videos, movies, commercials, you name it) and I would endlessly analyze which way I would smile or raise my eyebrow or look mysterious or surprised. In the shower, I would act out shampoo commercials, re-enacting the directions on the bottle, speaking succintly and turning my head this way and that way. (Wow, did I just say that on the internet? Well, I know for a fact I'm not the only one who did this - Dea, I'm looking at you!) My point is that I know what that feeling is, being obsessed with what people see when they look at you.

With cameras following the castmembers 24/7, I imagine that the "ON" feeling must somehow warp into their personality after six months. On some level, it must become second nature to play to the camera instead of just, you know, being yourself. So what happens when filming ends? Are they wlking around their apartments, disappointed that no one cares that they just did the dishes? Positioning themselves just so on the couch while watching TV? Going on The Surreal Life and making out with Vanilla Ice, or just hanging out until the next Battle of the Sexes challenge comes on? I want to do a documentary on these people, just to find out.

SIDENOTE: Man, I should have KNOWN it when I saw the tag stcking out of the front of my shirt - I just went to post this entry on Holidalies, my FINAL entry, and I got an error message/ "Posting not permitted. Posting ended 6-Jan-2005 23:59." Guess what time the Holidailies clock read (though mine reads 11:53)? 23:59, people. BITE ME, Holidailies. Gah. Hey, at least I tried.

Lucy loves you |