Trash TV: Princesses Long Island - 30 Going On 13

Most people who have spent more than 10 minutes talking to me know that I have an undying love of television - specifically trash. My husband used to shake his head while I devoured crap like "Rock of Love" or "Laguna Beach" lamenting that I was giving the TiVo herpes. But lately, I am having trouble relating to - and therefore relishing in - the adventures of teens and tweens. So, I have canceled the season pass for Teen Mom and added one for quite possibly the worst, and yet most amazing, thing I have ever watched: Bravo's Princesses Long Island.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Princesses is the answer to the question (no one asked) "What were these awful housewives like when they were single?" Princesses is also notable, because its cast is made up of single Jewish girls on Long Island, all of whom still live at home with mommy and daddy. It features all the worst stereotypes about the ladies of my tribe. They are spoiled, vapid, gossip-y, and materialistic. They are also obsessed with finding a nice, wealthy, Jewish husband. In fact, the 27 year old (named Chanel - who refers to herself as "Coco" when she wants to get down) has had multiple crying fits and even met with her rabbi about the fact she isn't yet married. She's 27, but she carries on like she's 47 and all her eggs have dried up and her youth is behind her. Not to play into anything here, but oy vey! As for the rest of the cast, the youngest is 26 (and dating a 38 year old who is so painfully and clearly gay) and the oldest is 30.  Allow me to give you a visual of the 30 year old:

She is in tears, because the other girls are "being so, so mean to" her. During a day at the winery, a confrontation erupts between Ashlee (above) and Joey. Joey lives on the south shore of Long Island, which I guess means she is solidly middle class instead of upper middle class? Although, when Ashlee ventured to the south shore in an earlier episode, she acted as if she was on skid row. Anyway, Ashlee thinks Joey is trash and a bad person - and has told her and all their coven of friends as much. When one of the other princesses (who, incidentally used to bear the title of "hottest girl on Long Island") wants Joey and Ashlee to have it out before continuing their girls' day on her daddy's yacht, all hell breaks loose. For reference, here is what a decade has done to the hottest girl on Long Island:

After Joey repeatedly says that Ashlee doesn't matter to her and she doesn't want to talk to her, Ashlee says "your mother was right about you" and storms off to cry to mommy and daddy and beg them to let her take a jet home. I wish I was making this up. Oh, Ashlee feels totally justified, because Joey called her "funny looking," during an earlier confrontation. According to Ashlee, who just told this girl her mom was right to sever her relationship with her daughter, calling someone funny looking is "disgusting." Not since high school have I witnessed such melodramatic bullshit. Also, at 30, maybe it's time to get some thicker skin, not run home to mommy and daddy when someone says they don't like you, and learn to handle interactions with people like a 30 year old - not a 13 year old.

THESE WOMEN ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ADULTS! Some of them are dying to have babies. I think most of the girls featured on 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom are more ready for motherhood than these mishegana ladies. At least those girls have jobs, which is more than I can say for half of the Princesses.

So, why do I watch? Maybe because comparing my life to theirs makes me feel like I am an adult and capable of dealing with the big life decisions that lie ahead. Maybe it makes me appreciate the fact I have a career, a husband, and make my own way in life. Or, maybe I just love a televised guilty pleasure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to clear Here Comes Honey Boo Boo off the TiVo before it causes an outbreak of TiVo herpes!

DC: The (whatever is the opposite of fashion capitol) of the World

DC is a major metropolitan area. Its suburbs consistently top the list of highest incomes in the country. It's a power town built on networking and deal brokering. It is also where style comes to die.

Sure, there are a few well-dressed elite. And of course Michelle Obama also looks impeccable and impossibly well put together. But this town has a lot of the fashion equivalent of unwashed masses.

Even the more well dressed among Washingtonians don't venture out of the conservative comfortability of Ann Taylor or Brook's Brothers. They may be boring, but they aren't embarrassing.

The vast majority of the area's inhabitants couldn't pull a coordinated look together if you threatened to throw their Blackberry into the Potomac (the DC equivalent of holding a gun to someone's head). There are ill-fitting suits every where (women doing their best impression of Sigourney Weaver in Working Girl and men who look like boys trying to wear daddy's hand me downs), sweat or track suits are not uncommon in an office in DC, and more 80s and 90s fashion on the Metro than one sees during a John Hughes movie marathon.

What is it about this town that makes people so averse to good taste? You would think a city that runs on superficial BS would be more, well, superficial. People joke that DC is Los Angeles for ugly people. I think it's more like New York for the poorly heeled.

Things I Am Officially Too Old For

At the ripe old age of 31, there are several things I have officially become too old for. Fortunately for me, I know I have aged out of the items below. I pity the people in their mid 30s or beyond who have yet to come to terms with the end of their 20s and carry on as if college never ended.

1) Wearing anything seen on the non-parent cast members of Pretty Little Liars, 90210, or other CW and ABC Family shows.

2) Drinking to get wasted. I like alcohol but not for the reasons I used to. I enjoy the taste of wine, beer, or a well-crafted cocktail. If you can't taste what you're drinking, you've had too much.

3) Related to 2: drinking cheap alcohol. As you age, hangovers become more frequent. Don't bait a hangover by drinking cheap, crappy booze.

4) Participating in the team Edward vs team Jacob debate (or perhaps more current team Peeta vs team Gale). It's one thing to enjoy a good book or movie (and for the record, I think Twighlight was neither), but it's a little ridiculous to get invested in the love lives of fictional characters.

5) Befriending the office intern. You can be nice, but you cannot and should not hang with them socially. And, you should never hook up with one. It's just sad.

6) Dying you hair purple or green or blue or pink. I'll allow a shocking fake red, but Crayola colors are for teenagers.

7) Using the term YOLO UN ironically.

8) Having a crush on Bieber, the boys from 1D, or any other non threatening male teenager that looks sort of girly.

9) Pigtails.

10) Not having self confidence. Being awkward is part of growing up. And growing out of it is a right of passage. If you project confidence and give an air that you know what you're doing, people will believe it. And maybe eventually you will too.

I feel like my 30s are about coming into my own. And each item on this list feels like an attempt to make an impression or fit in. Well, I finally learned that fitting in is overrated. I'm just sorry that it took me more than 30 years to realize it.

Home Ownership

There is one trapping of adulthood that I have been looking forward to for years: home ownership. And, it's finally happening. I have been ready to buy a home (well, emotionally ready - not financially ready) for years. So why do I feel like I am going to throw up?

I am sure my nausea is due in no small part to the two pounds of paperwork sent to us by the bank. When my husband saw the overwhelmingly large packet he asked, "Is there a rectal examine in there too?" While there is no literal rectal examine, there is most definitely a figurative one. To buy a home, one must bend over and spread the one's financial cheeks wide open while the bank roots around in there to make sure you are worthy of paying them interest for the next 30 years.

In order to prepare for the momentous occasion that is closing on the home, we are currently in what I like to refer to as "budget lockdown." This means, no shopping, no meals out, no happy hours, and no trips to Whole Foods without a plan and a list. Basically, this means no fun at all. I feel like a junkie who is trying to get clean (for the record, I don't actually know how a junkie feels as I have never even smoked pot - I am extrapolating what it must be like based on my extensive television watching). The first couple weeks of budget lockdown were fine - no big deal. But this week, week three, I started to get the proverbial shakes. I have been insanely grumpy and bitchy, because spending money makes me happy. I am an amazing consumer and a tremendous supporter of the economy. In short, I have a spending problem. It's not to say that I can't be frugal (and am being frugal and will continue to be frugal). I am just saying that it sucks most of the joy from my life when I am frugal.

Stopping for coffee, going out for lunch, or picking up something shiny and new helps me deal with the drudgery of normal life. I know what you're thinking (probably). You might be thinking, "why can't you do those things once in a while?" Well, because for me self control is like a muscle - the harder I work it, the stronger it becomes. If I treat myself, it can become a slippery slope. So, until this new regime is an ingrained habit, I am living under self-imposed austerity measures.

We close some time in December or January (yay for new construction). So, there is an end in sight, and I am keeping focused on the goal. I'm going to own a home of my very own, and maybe that will be the first step toward not just being an adult - but feeling like one too.

So This is 30 (er, 31)

I am having trouble with 30. So much so, that I am now 31 and still reeling from my 30th birthday. Regardless of the fact that I am in a better place financially, emotionally, and professionally than I was in my 20s, the big 3-0 (and now 3-1) has been a tough one to swallow. I am now at the age that 18 year old me thought was old. Every year it gets harder and harder to stay in shape - or maintain a weight that is 5-10 lbs from the weight I tell people I am when asked. It also gets harder to duck questions about when my husband and I will have kids. If one more person reminds me that I am not getting any younger, a fact that I am keenly aware of, I might have a Britney Spears level meltdown.

In spite of being older and somewhat wiser, I still don't feel like a grown up. I don't feel ready to start a family. And I am a grown up who is still somewhat uncertain about what she wants to be when she grows up.

I know I am not alone in feeling this way. I hope that you will find this blog amusing, relatable, and worth reading (and maybe even sharing with friends).