Friday night. Eleven-hour workday. Brain fried. I change into sweatpants, fill up my water, and queue up The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Years ago, I would’ve called this my “guilty pleasure.” I don’t anymore. There’s no guilt. Just pleasure. And if I’m being honest, it’s a little field research. Because this isn’t mindless consumption. It’s observation. It’s pattern recognition. It’s cultural study in sequins and lip filler. And when it comes to Utah reality TV? It’s p