After spending the day researching obesity in children, I took a break from my studies to attend a viewing of a recently debuted show at the LP. Desperate Housewives not only entertained me for a full hour, but it made me realize that my dream is to be a Desperate Housewife. I already have half the qualities down. I am fashionable, bitchy, stand up for myself, love to coordinate drama, like a good old fashioned mystery and enjoy being with my friends. All I need is a husband and a posse of neightborhood whenches to become one of the few, the proud, the housewives. I think in the long run I’d be a great housewife, with my obsessive cleaning, my longing to please whomever I have feelings for and my ability to socialize on a super-human level. I could totally pull the act off. My biggest problem will be finding a man who wants a housewife. Does the breed still exist who wants to go out and work while their spouse takes care of all the matters at home? Probably not. But I can search for it. I’m a stickler for keeping at unattainable goals.