MTV Programming is Like Crack to Me

Now I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I am not nor have I ever been addicted to illegal substances. For the record, I have never even tried anything illegal. I can only imagine what being addicted to crack or other wacky substances is like and I am simply comparing that to the awesome, tacky goodness that is MTV programming. I am not going to go into two of my many MTV guilty pleasures which, if you have read this blog, you know to be Sixteen and Pregnant and Jersey Shore. I am going to stick to the more mainstreamed programming that has made MTV's faux reality genre so popular in the past few years- The Hills and The City.

I have been an avid watcher of The Hills since it very first premiered. I can remember sitting alone in my first apartment that I rented upon moving to Northwest Indiana and seeing the promo for the Hills. I remember thinking, "I am going to pee my pants with excitement waiting for that show to air!" and I was not disappointed. I counted the hours from week to week until I could watch Lauren Conrad and her friends party at clubs (which they were too young to go to), shop at Kitson (blowing way more money in one spree than I make in a month), and dating various cute (and not so cute, read: Jason) boys. What is it about this lifestyle that kept me wanting more? I think it was the unnecessary drama and living the fast life that I have craved in some way, shape, or form since going to college.

As the years progressed, The Hills grew tired. My Speidi dartboard wore through with the holes made from the darts that I threw at it and I grew tired of hearing about the same old things episode after epidsode. Once I found out that Lauren Conrad was leaving the show, I figured that I should too. As she drove off into the sunset in her sleek black car-with-a-driver, a little piece of me went with her. I shut the TV off and vowed that I wouldn't watch that crap anymore. I'm such a sucker.

I held on for the 5th season to see what trouble Kristen Cavallari would stir up. She stirred up a lot of it, but the drama was so petty and the relationships so contrived that I lost interest fast. I grew to like the spinoff show with Whitney Port, The City, a lot better and found myself impatiently waiting for The Hills to end so that The City would start. I struggled through both seasons and hoped that Adam Divello would put The Hills out of it's misery.

No such luck. The offseason brought tales of boob jobs, butt jobs, nose jobs, ear jobs, back sculpting, lipo, and lip plumping (and that's all for one person!), cracked out co-stars, and romances with has-been pop stars (Ryan Cabrera and Avril Lavigne, I'm talking 'bout you!). Like an addiction that keeps on calling my name, I was sucked into the WEEKEND LONG Hills marathon that was meant to "catch us up" and "set us up" for the season premiere. Not only was I a casualty of this so-called marathon, but John succumbed as well. I am like a drug dealer and he is my new client. We watched as hour after hour, Heidi and Lauren fought, then Spencer and Lauren fought, then Heidi and Spencer fought, then Heidi and Audrina fought until we weren't sure who's side to be on. All we knew is that we coudn't wait for Tuesday to arrive.

As the premiere of The Hills grew closer, I could hear John talking to himself in the kitchen saying things like, "The Hills is back bitches!" and "I can't wait to see what happens tonight!" Internally, a piece of me died. As we settled down for the show, I tried to catch John up on what had happened last season. Turns out, it doesn't take much to catch up once you start watching. As the show progressed, John watched and simultaneously became a fan on Facebook of "The Hills" "The Hills Aftershow," The City," and left comments on "The Hills" wall. Oh brother. The Hills ended without much comment except for John saying that "Heidi's mom is a bitch" to which I filled him in on all of the crazy/horrible/outrageous things Heidi has done and we came to the conclusion that Darlene (me and Heidi's mom are on a first-name basis) was justified. We can't wait until next week.

We moved on to The City and, again, John was sucked in. My favorite part of our viewing party happend about a quarter of the way through the episode when Whitney went to visit her "pattern makers" in the Fashion District. These "pattern makers" just happened to be of some sort of Oriental dissent (forgive me for my awful stereotyping and inability to tell just what dissent exactly these kind women were) and, one particular pattern maker named Michelle happened to get a lot of screen time. John took one look at her (and must have missed the name conveniently plastered at the bottom of the screen) because he suddenly exclaims "Whitney can't tell Vera Wang what to do!" And I said, "Where are you getting Vera Wang?" and he proceeds to pull a picture up on his computer and says, "This is Vera Wang. She is a famous designer." Now I can't believe that:

a) John would think I didn't know who Vera Wang was. Hello- I have been wedding dress shopping AND to Kohl's... I know who Vera Wang is

b) John would think that Michelle-the-pattern-maker looked anything like Vera Wang

c) That he insisted that Michelle-the-pattern-maker WAS Vera Wang

d) That after all of that John would think that Vera Wang would be making patterns for Whitney Port

After clearing THAT situation up, the rest of the episode was watched without much comment. John's final assessment? "Man, Whitney better be thanking Michelle because she just saved her ass." Well put, my friend. Well put.

So, MTV, I would like to say thank you for offering me an alternative to illegal substances. I am too busy watching your slutty programming to think about doing anything harder than that. I will continue to watch your Hills, your City, your Fresh Meat, your teen mothers, your True Life's, and whatever other borderline-garbage you decide to put on the air. Because I'm addicted. And it feels so good.