bridalplasty!

oh, bridalplasty. of all the tragic crap on tv, this show represents best of all why the united states is behind essentially the entire world in math and science. obviously, we're all idiots.

at first, i swore i wouldn't watch it. i would never do such a thing. i'm in grad school. i'm too well-read. then, in a terrible confluence of convenience* and genetics**, i did it. i watched. and i can safely say that there is nothing redeeming about it. there are many shows on tv that serve to humiliate their protagonists (i used to be fat, losing it with jillian michaels, supernanny and every episode of i didn't know i was pregnant, to name a few), but at least you get the sense that there is an actual, albeit thinly veiled, moral to those stories (even if it's something like "letting your children play with machetes is a no-no" or "your back pain may be a baby"). bridalplasty is simply 45 minutes of hideous female stereotyping, beauty standard perpetuation and general idiocy. the women have decided to sacrifice their physical health (and ultimately, their pride) to act like catty bitches for an entire season in order to win a plastic surgery makeover and a "dream wedding."

having just planned a wedding, i can understand the allure of having someone pay for that shit for you. i can even understand the desire to look your best. what i don't get is showcasing on tv twenty-something women who are so riddled with self-esteem issues and self-hate that they're willing to offer their bodies up to the creepiest plastic surgeon in reality tv history after they win inane contests. any show that provides weekly nose jobs to engaged women who are convinced they aren't attractive enough (despite the fact that they have, by definition, found men who love them as they are) and then has them prance back to the mansion after their surgeries to stay in the twee-ly decorated "recovery" room is seriously, seriously unfortunate.

the best (worst?) part, however, is that the host is shanna moakler, best known for her marriage to travis barker of blink 182. a marriage that ended. so, the person at the helm of this shipwreck, the spokesperson for being "the perfect bride," is someone whose dream wedding ended in a failed marriage. ouchies.

*we're paying for dvr now, and somehow, it seems less disgusting to watch something whenever you want than to wait to watch it live.

**my mother, who is one of the smartest people i know, is obsessed with tabloids. obsessed. it's in my blood. this is my excuse.