Desperate Housewives

Thanks to the unceasing mention of our CEO's being hooked on Desperate Housewives in New Zealand; blogger y_slaybelle's generosity in lending me and my assistant manager her downloaded DivX CD copies of the show; and Eva Longoria and Jesse Metcalfe's hot sex scenes in almost every episode, I finally got hooked on the damned show.

Or "re-hooked". I first saw the show when I was still back in the US (if I remember correctly, while channel surfing, I briefly caught that episode where Bree Van De Kamp [Marcia Cross] was telling her soon-to-be-divorced husband, "Why I feel so terrible that I tried to kill you."), and I remember having laughed so hard I snorted my spaghetti pesto up my sinuses, before I surfed back to the FoodNetwork to watch Bobby Flay do some barbecuing (like I need to learn that).

The show is, to me, a masterful depiction of my own life. And although I am (so certainly) not a housewife (and maybe just a teenie weenie bit desperate), I can totally relate to every single one of them bitches at certain circumstances. How and why? Read.

I am Susan. I will most definitely go to extraordinary lengths for love. I have been burnt and am now being cautious in prospective relationships, it's like walking on egg shells. And I have had my share of the bad luck...but never having been locked out of my house buck-naked.

Also a Lynette. I have traded my high-paying, US-based, one-more-year-before-a-green-card job for my life back in the Philippines. I have mixed moments of sheer panic as a breadwinner of the family, and not to mention feeling inadequate (or plain idiotic) amidst all the bright bulbs in the company.

Bree, I also am. Although I may not be a Martha Stewart on steroids, I have my moments of sheer OC'ness. If things are not in order, or the disorder is not in an "orderly" this-mess-should-be-where-it's-supposed-to-be-at, I will most definitely freak out. Folders need to be labeled properly according to categories; socks and underwear in color coding; inbox messages filed in corresponding subject matters. Come to think of it, I am a Bree and a Monica (of the sitcom Friends) twirled into one! Also, as Bree, I have a tendency to mask what I feel...or at least from the public. My friend once told me that I am such a good actor: that I can swing a jubilant, sanguine persona...but my eyes betray me by showing its anguish and confusion.

Aaah. I see Gabrielle inside me, too. At some point, I think I've had it all in my life...but still I wasn't happy...something else was still missing. Perhaps my standards are just too damned high, I may have to alter it. I fall so easily into temptation. I could get superficial sometimes. (But, hey, who doesn't?) And paranoia is sometimes my breakfast.

Edie. When was I not adventurous and forthright with sexual conquests? Few times. It's mostly the exception rather than the rule. But really, is Edie happy?

Desperate Housewives. Hmm. So, am I desperate? Seriously, I think I'm treading on dangerous waters...and I'm getting closer.