Guilty Obsessions

You know that car wreck that you slowed down to stare at this morning? I have one of those in my life. I just can't stop watching even though my IQ drops (considerably) every time I think of it.

I am obsessed with teenage drama.

It all started with 90210 in my teens, Seventh Heaven in my twenties and now, I am glued to the Secret Life of the American Teenager, can't get enough of Friday Night Lights, Glee can only partially satisfy my appetite. I must watch teenagers being evil, gossipy, catty, jealous and stupid. It's like an addiction that no amount of Tiger's Blood or Adonis DNA can subdue. I long for it throughout the workweek when I just do not have enough time to watch. I ponder the problems of the characters and think about how they might be able to get themselves out of this situation, this time.

Grey's Anatomy edges this.close to being a teen drama (although, let's be honest the entire cast is getting very old and can no longer pass for some of the childish games that they play), I would really like to think that my doctor or nurse is more concerned with my care than about which closet that they are gonna make out in later. Especially if my doctor is, like, 50.

And that is what I love so much about the teenage drama. It feels so unreal. There is no chance that a debutante in a Ferrari is going to rear-end my car while snorting a line of cocaine to prove that she is not pregnant. There is no chance that every kid in a given high school is going to get pregnant the first time that they have sex (or kill their father, for that matter). These kids, these situations, have no affect on my reality.


If television is meant to be escapism for us, if it is supposed to give us a moment to not have to think about rent, bills, car repairs, light bills, etc.than I am all for it being just that. A place to escape.

I will curl up on my sofa after Z is tucked safely into bed and turn on one of these insipid shows. I gasp when I see a barely 15 year old (who is probably really 25) take a drink of a beer or light up a cigarette. I know by the guilty gleam in her eye or the slightly stressed accent to his strut that something big is coming: she is pregnant, he is abusing drugs, the mom is oblivious to everything (of course) as she swills away at her umpteenth glass of wine.

I drink it all in and love every scandalous minute of it, while I pray that I am not found out by the kid or the Hubs.

What is your guilty pleasure?