The Real Housewives of Orange County

"The Real Housewives of Orange County" is a show on the telly, on the Slice program.
The people it is about are:

• women
• tanned
• plastic boobed
• plastic nosed
• plastic mouthed
• plastic foreheaded
• plastic bellied
• plastic-need-i-say-more?

Now, I've only watched one episode, but I'm sure this is what they are like 24/7. They are mean, cruel, 100% like teenage girls. Bitches, basically. Only they are all about 45 years old. Their hair is bleached blonde, and their skin is probably ten layers thicker than the average human's skin, thanks to all the tanning salons and creams they've no doubt rubbed on. The typical americain woman, right? My ass.

On this particualr episode, one of these so-called ladies, is holding an "etiquette party". She's invited all her favourite barbies, and is planning on impressing them all with her good manners.

One of these guests, is going through a time in her life that is very difficult for her. Her husband is undergoing cancer treatments, and she hasn't been out in months. So, on this wonderful night, she has decided to let herself have fun. So she goes to this party, and starts drinking. Almost immediately, the host decided that this party girl, let's call her Gretchen, needs to "get wasted". Nice, eh?

She tells a few of her friends about this newfound brilliant idea, and they all start pressing drinks on Gretchen, hoping that she'll do something stupid. Gretchen happily accepts these tequila shots, etc, and does get drunk. Really drunk.

In the end, Gretchen dances around the pool, gets people to slap her butt, fondles herself several times, and the host's TWENTY-TWO year old son takes advantage of her. TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD!!

Now I'm not saying they should stop airing the show, or that these "housewives" should change their behaviour, but they should at least CHANGE the time it's on to sometime LATER in the evening, when minors like ME will not end up watching this NASTY stuff.

Home...again.

Once again, I am stuck at home. On Sunday, while I was still at camp (more about camp later.), I started feeling like I was coming down with a cold. By that evening, when I was at home, it was considerably worse. So here I was, lying on the couch, attempting to study for a huge history test that I was supposed to take the next day.

I couldn't concentrate on what Isaac Brock, Laura Secord, or Tecumseh was saying. After a while, I realized that even trying to study was useless. So, of course, I started freaking out, crying to my mom, "I'm gonna fail! I hardly know anything!! What am I going to do?!"

Of course, mothers always have the answer, so my mom said, "I'll keep you home tomorrow."
So I stayed home yesterday, mostly studying, trying to absorb as much as I could. My mid-day, I was feeling quite a bit better.

I was eating a bagel with cheese, and suddenly I had a strange feeling in my belly. So I stopped eating it, and I went to lie on the couch. In about a minute, a crazy, sharp-burning-knives stabbng me in the stomach feeling came on in my belly. It lasted for about 30 seconds, but a couple minutes later, it came on again.

Holy mother of pearl, it hurt. I was literally screaming in pain. I got up to see ifthat wouldhelp. Changing positions, you know, see if i was pushing some undiscovered organ or bone into my bowels.

Well, it didn't really help at all. I decided to go upstairs to the bathroom, and let's just say, about, oh, ten minutes later, I had burning-butt syndrome.

So today I am at home again, just in case I have some type of flu. Although I do feel alright, apart from the occasional lurch in my stomach. And I'm actually hungry!!

Me

Hey everybody, my name is Michaela Jane. My friends call me Mika, Mika Chika, Michalka, & Michalkalal, but I prefer just plain old Michaela.

I live with my parents, and my little brother (*sigh*), 'Dennis'.

We have two guinea pigs, and a dog. The pigs' names are Furry, who is about 5 years old, and Nanaimo, who likes to be called Mo, who is about 13 weeks old. Before Mo came along, we had Furry, but also another guinea pig named Cuddles. May she rest in peace.
Our dog's name is Gryphon, and he is a standard poodle.

That's all I really have to say for today (hey, I'm a poet and I didn't even know it!), but hopefully some good, strong, whiskey-infused inspiration will come my way soon.