I have never been able to describe the way “The View” makes me feel. I mean, I always tried to catch it when I was home sick from school. That was my favorite thing about being sick. Those two weeks I was out of school with pneumonia during 9th grade were amazing. Besides passing out and almost dying I got to enjoy the stars of Frequency appearing frequently (like that?) on every talk show that existed at the time.

But back to “The View.” I was thrilled when Elisabeth Hasselbeck joined the show my freshman year of college. Ask my roommate. I watched that stuff everyday. And once I figured out she was (mildly) conservative–SCORE. Ain’t many people who represent my views on TV these days so I take what I can get.

Then Rosie came along. And before you start jumping on me for being against her from the start, I have to tell you–you are dead wrong. I loved Rosie’s old talk show and hoped that my school bus would arrive home in time for me to at least catch the last 30 minutes of the show each afternoon. I loved her, dearly. Musicals? Check. A love for George Clooney and ER? You betcha. A band leader who I almost plowed over backstage during a pageant I was in? Got that one covered and need to blog about it. You understand? I loved her. We were pals. I wanted to be her friend in real life.

But Rosie plus “The View”? Disaster. That was the biggest train wreck I ever saw. It turned into a game here at my house, seeing if I could be quick enough with the mute button so that I wouldn’t have to hear what Ro had to say.

After all that I stopped watching. For one thing, it was too stressful. Another? I got a job, finished school, and was no longer home at that time of day. Breaks a habit real quick.

But how does watching “The View” make me feel? A little bit like I’m holding a bag of cats, trying to hang on to it while holding it as far away from my body as possible.