Reinserting reality into reality tv.

What do you when one grandmother refers to you as “the barren grandchild,” and the other is convinced you speak the vagina monologues? Enter the A&E Unscripted Development Pipeline TV Contest, of course.

A&E and the New York Television Festival have teamed up to create a contest targeted at independent artists and production companies, who are seeking to develop the next great “unscripted television” show. And, as an insider has told me, these top notch executives are looking less for a reality show concept and more for an engaging character sketch.

Now when said insider first mentioned the contest I instantly began to list off the people I found most fascinating– the bloggers I wish would suddenly come to life on my nonexistent television screen. But the Gentile Giant, privy to this conversation, had other ideas.

She was convinced that rather than engaging in a game of the grass is always greener, we should focus our efforts on a more local character– me. Needless to say, I was skeptical. The thought of broadcasting my single status to the American public seemed narcissistic at best, and downright humiliating at worst.

However, said Giant was quick to point out that I, in fact, engage in such self-aggrandizing behavior each time I post a new blog entry for my avid greenstraw readers. When I reference my unhealthy caffeine addiction or my inability to date heterosexual men in an online format, I am essentially making it public knowledge.

And yet somehow I feel no shame. Perhaps it is based on the realization that I will never actually have to encounter most of my readers in real life. (A realization that I am convinced several of my readers take solace in…)

Or, perhaps, it is because I exert complete control over the terms of disclosure. I tell the stories I want, when I want. There are few opportunities for others to weigh in, challenge my version of the tales I tell, or proffer their highly critical opinions of my work.

But if I were to have a reality show, the aforementioned grandmothers would suddenly have a highly lucrative kvetch-box, from which to share their fears regarding my perpetual barren/homosexual status. And I would have to contend with the fact that millions of people would think I was a raging infertile lesbian.

However, after a month of taking rapists, murderers, and big time New York drug dealers to task in appellate court, I contend I have greater things to fear than a national television audience. And so this weekend, while my other Wellesley biddies are sipping sangria and gabbing about the good ol’ days, the Gentile Giant and I will be out on the town, filming the absurdities that have colored this blog for the last year.

Get ready for an epic, er, memorable, video blog.


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