Get a clue and move away from the TV

By NIKKI SCHWAB

It’s Tuesday night, and I’m plopped in front of the television. After watching another episode… It’s Tuesday night, and I’m plopped in front of the television. After watching another episode of “The Real World” on MTV, the thought crosses my mind that I should probably do something more productive — perhaps checking how many friends my friend of a friend’s friend has on thefacebook, or finishing that paper that’s due in the morning.

But then the next show begins, Hilary Duff’s voice pours from my television, and as the theme song plays, I refuse to move. Footage of a picturesque ocean town with mansions and sunshine and happiness and smiles radiates from my screen. “Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County” is on. And while every week it irritates me more, I can’t help but watch.

Haven’t seen “Laguna Beach” yet?

Well, here’s the general idea. MTV realized that the FOX network’s “The OC” is immensely popular, and so is reality TV, so they found eight real live teen-agers and filmed them for several months, all because they — gasp — are from that remarkable bubble of teen-age bliss, Orange County, Calif.

In this day and age, when reality TV no longer means shoving seven strangers into an IKEAed-out house, wired with cameras from every angle, and taping their real life, “Laguna Beach” is said to be breaking new ground, a hybrid between soap opera and reality show.

MTV.com explained the appeal of the show. “This is where the angst and the tumultuous affairs are the stuff of prime-time drama, except this is all REAL.”

However, Sarah Rodman of the Boston Herald calls it the “out-of-touch-with-reality show,” and I’ll agree with her on that.

“REAL” consists of the teens driving around in Escalades, shopping for designer clothes, attending fashion shows, surfing, sunning, sexing and planning the next “black-and-white affair” party at the local luxury hotel.

If that’s what real life is, then when will I be partying at a luxury hotel instead of a dirty Oakland basement?

Through all of these REAListic happenings, the “drama” of the show is no more than two blondes fighting over Stephen, the big man on campus. LC, the slightly smarter, more likeable best friend of Stephen, rivals airhead Kristin, his “girlfriend” — who also seems to be the girlfriend of half the town.

A typical episode includes the friends making party plans, talking about each other behind one another’s back, gossiping, gossiping and more gossiping, Kristin giving LC a nasty look, an extravagant party and then, well, then there’s more to gossip about.

This is obviously a REAL depiction of adolescent angst and confusion.

One of my favorite moments comes when Kristin has to deal with one of life’s hardest tasks:

Making dinner.

The blond bimbo struggles with the alfredo sauce, and when Stephen makes fun of her poorly prepared meal, Kristin eloquently excuses her angst-filled and tumultuous cooking experience.

“Because the dressing’s, like, retarded,” Kristin explains using her obnoxious voice, which her archrival in the show, LC, describes as sounding like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard. I like to think of it as the voice of a valley girl meets trailer trash.

Here’s reality for you, Kristin: Get a freaking clue.

But to be fair, not all of the Laguna Beach cast members are so naive and helpless.

The show plays into the viewer’s fantasies of living a perfect life in paradise. I guess the only thing MTV didn’t predict was how stupid you have to be to live like this. I love watching these beautiful, rich and socially powerful teens fail miserably at menial tasks.

My half hour’s up. I leave my TV realizing that I won’t be cruisin’ South O tomorrow in an Escalade, but at least I can probably handle making some non-retarded chicken alfredo.