Hooked on chick TV

I've been watching a lot more chick TV recently, and I blame the influence of my girlfriend, The Lovely and Talented Anne. I realized this Saturday night after we watched The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, which, while very good, might have been the saddest, most depressing thing I've seen all year. But it was 12:30 a.m. and I needed to watch something else before going to bed, a mental sorbet to cleanse the mind of dreariness. Before, I would have gone straight to Adult Swim cartoons, or World War II highlights on the History Channel, or Most Awesome Weapons of the Future on one of the Discovery channels. But what did I go for? House Hunters on On Demand. And I realized, good lord, I'm actually voluntarily watching HGTV now.

I'm hooked on House Hunters, especially the international version. I'm baffled over people's obsessions with stainless steel appliances and double sinks and frustrated at how so many people see the paintjob and not the potential of the room, but dammit, I'm glued to the set when it's on. Ooooh, nice high ceilings. . . . I like that staircase. . . . Ew, that kitchen is way too small. I love comparing the sprawling, excessive suburban American house with the tiny, antiquated Paris apartment with the miniscule fridge and half-shower. Maybe it's the voyeuristic look into random people's tastes (or lack thereof) and perceived needs -- the obsession with a single-story house, or the need for a tub, or a garage big enough to fit a monster truck. And it doesn't end with House Hunters. Property Virgins (love me them Canadians!), Curb Appeal, Designed to Sell . . . I watch them all!

So yes, I'll shamefully admit it. I'm hooked on chick TV.

And don't even get me started on Gossip Girl. . .