LL, You’d be Proud

In finding acceptance with the less rugged, plaid jacket wearing and beard growing side of my personality (which is becoming increasingly dominant – although I would like to point out that I did chop wood with an axe last weekend) I have embraced my love for the Hills.  Although I had previously denounced the very essence of the show and continuously berated my sister for following it and believing in the reality aspect, I could no longer resist the magnetism of watching pretty rich girls live their lives.  Have I become a better person because of how I spend my Monday nights?  No.  Has this enriched my existence? Well, in a way, yes.  Let me explain.

Lauren Conrad has become more than an untouchable aspiration for my romantic intentions.  Her own inability to secure a meaningful relationship has given me a commiserator, a beacon of hope for my own life sans filles.  Her battle with dating has put a new focus on my own, kicked me in the touche to start writing / complaining / over analyzing again and allowed me to find a connection between being rich, pretty and single in Beverly Hills and having an average income, average appearance and being single in Toronto.  I’m pumped.

I have a new focus for writing.  This should be fun.  I could promise that this initiative will lead to more regularity in posting here but then I’ve only found another way to let people down and a further cement block of guilt to place on my chest while I sleep.  Instead, I will try.