In which The Gay Recluse loves ferns and The Hills.

This year we started watching The Hills.

Everyone laughs at us when we tell them how much we like it.

And how much better it is than Gossip Girl. (Not that we like Heidi or Spencer.)

Everyone seems so upset by the idea that they may or may not be acting.

And we’re always like: seriously, who cares?

All these dumb soap operas have the same plot over and over again.

Weddings and murders and drugs. All the stuff that only happens on teevee.

On The Hills Lauren was crying because she and Audrina were drifting apart.

That was the season finale!

Life is filled with dissonance that barely rises to the dramatic.

The beauty of The Hills is completely superficial.

It’s a form of white noise.

Yet two weeks after it ended, we still think of Lauren and Audrina.

And how they drifted apart.

Which is so often the story of our life.