Betty Ford, Here I Come?

I have an addiction. It's something that I'm not happy to admit, but isn't the first step to recovery admitting you have a problem? I'm addicted... to... I can't say it. I really can't. Alright, I'm addicted to America's Next Top Model.

No matter how many times I have seen an episode, or an entire season for that matter, I will watch it. It's also one of those shows that MTV and VH1 like to show in marathon runs, and what do I do? Watch them. Every. Single. One.

I know. I need help. But when you start watching these model-wanna-bes begin their quest to become the winner of ANTM, and see how they grow from these frail little country bumpkins to these well presented pictures of perfection, you get sucked in! When I start watching these shows, I can't stop. It doesn't matter if it's Season 1 and Robyn's on a tirade, or Season 6 and Jade is not being your best friend, I watch. All of it. I love to hear Tyra and Miss J and Mr. Jay and Nigel and which ever guest judge happens to be on panel that week. I love it! I need help.