REALITY IS RELATIVE . . .

I eschew most reality shows. I was never a true follower of the "Survivor" or "Big Brother" franchises. I can't stomach "Fear Factor" and my conscience would not allow me to watch "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance." Even my love for the "Real World" series has petered out ... nothing really tops Pedro in San Francisco eventually dying of AIDS, being surrounded and supported by his roommates and friends (except for that nasty Puck). But this summer, I have been shocked at discovering myself avidly watching "Who Wants to Marry My Dad," "Amazing Race" and bad reruns of "America's Next Top Model."

"Amazing Race" is really the only show with any integrity and wit. I get to live vicariously through world travelers, AND get a healthy dose of voyeuristic squabbling, fighting, competing and back-stabbing. The traveling makes up for these latter qualities, although (these things are fun to watch, but you didn't hear that from me). The other two ... I don't really know WHY I insist on making time to watch them each week. The people in these shows are alternately pathetic, annoying, only slightly interesting. The 'competitions' are vapid, without substance, totally not interesting. But I watch nonetheless. Am I merely thankful that I don't have to pose naked with diamonds, slathered in tar? Am I simply happy that I don't HAVE to find my father a new wife and myself a stepmother? Do I truly not care and just want frivolous eye candy? (Which would not explain why I actually teared up during an episode of "Who Wants to Marry My Dad" but you didn't hear THAT from me either.) Eh, who knows and who gives. It's summer and my brain is on vacay until after Labor Day.

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CARE FOR ME . . .

My care group consists of five married couples and myself. I am close with two of the married couples, but the friendships that bind us don't erase the fact that they are married and I'm not. So far, the meetings have been introductory, as well as chaotic. Eating dinner and watching three infants and entertaining two toddlers while trying to maintain a serious conversation makes for an event similar to a circus whose entire cast is high on crack cocaine. This Friday could be the ultimate test, however: the membership is semi-set-in-stone, the first chapter of our book has been read and discussion questions are being prepared. I am again apprehensive and insecure about my presence in this group.

On the one hand, I probably am the only one who notices my unmarried status. Certainly when it comes to the discussions, half of each couple is occupied with their child/ren, so it is as if there are a bunch of single folks sitting around the table anyway. And don't get me wrong -- I can hold my own in these surrounded-by-couples situations. Most of my friends are married, many of my friends have babies or children, I've cared for enough babies and children myself, and I read lots of magazine articles about things that don't necessarily apply to me. If they want to talk about breastfeeding and sleep schedules and husbands who don't take out the garbage, I'm in.

But on the other hand, I know that when the evening ends, I'm getting into my car by myself. I'll talk to myself about what transpired during the care group meeting, and some little tickle in the back of my brain will always make me wonder: "is it okay that I'm here? Is it okay that I'm eating and talking and sitting and playing with these people, my friends? Is it okay that I opened my mouth to say something even though I don't know everything about the subject? Is it okay that I wish the parents would find sitters for their children so the adults could have a civilized and meaningful discussion and meeting?"

Sigh. I should just not take PEK's advice and NOT think sometimes ...

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CUTE . . .

I don't know why but I LOVE LOVE LOVE the Aflac duck and the Geico gekko.
They CRACK ME UP EVERY TIME.