rubbernecking

You know you've done it. You're driving down the highway and there's an accident. The sensible, safe thing is to just keep driving. But instead, you slow down, do everything but lean out the window, and make sure that you get a good long look at what has happened. And then you drive away.
Well, you can rubberneck with a TV show, too.
Last night as I was innocently flipping through the TV channels to find the weather and see just how cold it would be at swim practice this morning (in the 30s, for the record...again), I flipped past whatever channel "The Bachelor" is on. I know. I should have just kept on searching for the weather, but instead I had to go back, stop, and look at these people who were making a spectacle of themselves and their romantic adventures on national TV. This was the final episode of the season so one woman was about to go home broken-hearted and the other would have a ring on her finger. That is exactly where I turned it on...so, of course, I had to watch.
Really, what choice did I have? Don't answer that. I know, it's the epitome of a "chick flick"...gone bad? It really is awful. I'm not sure why anyone would want their "love life" (or whatever amped up version of dating to engaged in a matter of TV episodes "The Bachelor" is) aired on national television. Only someone with more guts than I have, less fear of rejection, and someone who doesn't mind something private being made very, very public. Not for me. (I know, you are shocked!) But still I watched enough last night to feel sick to my stomach. For lots of reasons. Just like when you see an accident on the roadside. Really, it's better not to look. It's someone else's disaster. You can be concerned, you can wish that everyone would survive, but other than that there's very little you can do. And that is a helpless and sick feeling.
So, tonight I'm keeping the TV turned off (I'll watch "Lost" later since I'll miss the beginning of it anyway) and making chocolate chip cookies instead...much, much safer.