It snowed earlier this week, about four inches or so. I drove up into the driveway and noticed that the snow from the awning had slid almost all the way off. It was hanging in a C formation, practically defying gravity. It was truly beautiful. And, as luck would have it, my piece of crap digital camera was in my purse right next to me.
I parked the car in the driveway, not wanting to even hit the garage door opener because the vibrations might cause an inadvertent avalanche. I picked up my purse and pulled out my camera, quiet and careful like a cat burglar. Then I clicked the camera on and it made its little ‘breeeeEEEEEE’ noise that it makes to warm up. Then I put my hand on the door to open it and snap the picture, but just then–
It all crashed down. Literally the second I was about to snap the picture. It was like the universe said ‘Oh yeah??? Take THAT.’ Just so that it could play a little soundtrack of ‘wah wah WAAAAH’. I sat in the car and giggled because the universe totally has the best practical jokes.
Esteban pointed out last night that my entire television diet consists of almost all reality television. Or actually, he said ‘Your TiVo menu is like a summary of everything that is wrong with Republican America today!’ And then he laughed at himself, big whelping guffaws, because he finds himself to be a very humorous man.
He’s right though. Oh, not about reality television and Republican America (although, damn it, they’re to blame for a lot of other things that never seem to stick, so might as well lay my brain rot on them as well), but rather my sad addiction to television this winter. I blame winter. I blame January (which seems to have seeped into February). I blame Dubya for January.
Herein lies my television addiction:
Starting Over: Oh lawdy yes, Starting Over! It’s the Real World for the perimenopausal set. I’m woefully addicted. As I’ve mentioned before, Peege is my 19-year-old doppleganger with a shopping addiction (which isn’t really being addressed) who just got a hematoma in her left leg! And that happened in October! Chills, I tell you! Chills! And then there was the crazy-assed country pseudosinger who was wallowing in complete and utter denial and blinked repeatedly whenever she talked. She’s gone, and so much of my hatred with her, but now there’s a chick on it from Wisconsin, and she looks like an extra from a hair band video. And the ‘life coaches’ (which is the title you give someone with no actual qualifications) are more crazy than the people in the house. I love it. I love it love it love it. Melissa loves it too, so I’m not in bad company.
The Real World/Road Rules Challenges: Oh man. This is somewhat embarrassing. I can’t help it. I love the challenges. I stopped watching Real World in either the Hawaii or the Seattle season (whichever was most recent). I caught a little of Back to New York (love Coral! LOVE HER!), and I never ever watched Road Rules, but I simply cannot look away from these challenges. I don’t even know who Julie from New Orleans is, but I can’t stand her. I had no idea who Veronica was but I hated her from the first minute I saw her (probably for the same mysterious reason I hate Penelope Cruz’they sort of look a like) and am very pleased to find out that my initial impressions were correct. And Puck! I want Puck in every damned challenge that ever was. I can’t believe he had a baby and there’s a mini-Puck running around in this world (although, Bogart is the best baby name EVER.) It is because of the RW/RR Challenge that I have ‘Bishes’ in my vocabulary, and for that, I am forever grateful.
American Idol: Oh, thank god I will stop caring about this one soon. I only like the preliminary stuff. Once they get to the top ten, I usually lose interest. But right now’ utter televised crack. I especially like the people who think they are so great and they are not great and cannot even glimpse greatness. Honestly, I don’t believe much can come out of winning the American Idol thing. Kelly Clarkson is completely white bread and Ruben, while I appreciate the fact that he won despite the so-called American obsession with size and think that maybe just maybe it’s a sign that our prejudice is starting to take a turn, I’m not all that impressed with him vocally. I mean, he’s OK. I’m glad that he has this chance and everything, but the next Barry White or Luther Vandross? Not so much. But your mileage may vary. Anyway, right now I’m totally crushing on the Rose Bowl guy who keeps mentioning that he went to the Rose Bowl and there was this one time, when he played in the Rose Bowl? I want to hate him (Rose Bowl) but I simply can(Rose)not(Bowl). He’s all v-shaped and linebackery. And also, when he got his golden ticket to go to Hollywood, he burst out in this Andrea Boccelli aria that made my girl parts go a little quivery. Man. Grrr! So, um’ yeah. Shut up! Anyway, it’s him and Pinky Lee that I’m rooting for, although I noticed that there were many people in the finals that we never got to see audition, so I’m thinking that the editors are holding back some ringers to surprise us later.
Martha Stewart: Martha was the original reason I wanted a TiVo. Granted, I probably delete the show unwatched half the time, or skip through to the interesting parts (because I simply don’t need to tag along on Martha’s fieldtrip to a button store in NYC’ sorry, just don’t) but who else is going to show me how to make a passion fruit pavlova? And tell me about the right way to make mashed potatoes (potato ricer all the way)? And soothe me with her pale green dishes and weird lilting manner of speech? Martha. That’s who.
America’s Next Top Model: Ok, this one fills me with unadulterated glee. It is just the best. THE BEST. The editing is brilliant. The sound effects are hilarious. The models are vapid and catty and fight the way that many insecure beautiful people do. They have crazy eyes and weird wacked out shoulder bones and flaming runway coaches and I simply cannot look away. Simply cannot. I was enrapt last season too. I don’t have a favorite yet this season, but I’m liking Yoanna, even though I suspect that she might be a snotty bitca. I also like Mercedes, and not just because that’s my karaoke/stripper name, but because she’s cute and sweet. And they had Betsey Johnson on last night! Yay! Bestey Johnson! I’ve loved her from back when the only print she ever saw was in Sassy Magazine. If she ever made plus size clothing, I can tell you right now, I would go into serious debt. But she doesn’t, so my bank account can sleep peacefully.
Survivor All Stars: Oh man, they roped me back in again with the promise of seeing my old favorites. It’s like the Real World/Road Rules Challenge all over again. I love Rich. It’s not even a ‘love to hate him’ thing. I just think he’s such an egotistical prick that you have to admire him. And Lex! Snakeman is back! He’s somewhat hot, in an ‘I’m Not Afraid To Tattoo My Own Penis’ kind of way. I stopped watching a few seasons back, but I did catch a bit of the Pearl Islands (because of the pirate theme’ yeah, I’m easy. Arrgh.) and love Rupert, which means that he’ll be toast (although I suspect that he’ll make it to at least the jury, unlike Rich). I will be very happy if they hand Big Tom some alcohol because that might have been one of the funniest moments on Survivor, right up there with Rudy’s ‘I don’t know.’ I suspect that the winner will end up being a sleeper, not Jerri, not Colby, not anyone who has been painted with a personality. It will be someone like Kathy or one of the Robs or Amber. Or maybe the strong girl with the braids and the indestructible abs. But wait, wasn’t she the one who was bellowing about protein? Ok, maybe not her. Actually, I don’t even really care who wins. I just want to watch it all go down. Go team of some color! Go someone!
Angel: This, as Esteban says, is the marginal saving grace in my entire television addiction. It just makes me laugh. It’s all I have, since the bad men took Buffy and Giles and Xander away. Bishes. (And I haven’t seen last night’s episode yet so please don’t spoil me!)
And needless to say, I have books. My bedside table is actually groaning under the load of unread books right now. I’m averaging only one a week, and that’s mostly bathroom reading. It’s shameful. It really is. I have no excuse. I should make a list and post it somewhere. And include the ones I’ve read. Yes. I should do just that.
Although, there are rumors that we’re all going to be laid off next week (ooh, drama!), so maybe I’ll have ample time to catch up on my reading then.
When we were going to bed, after turning off the television, Esteban moved to spoon around me and sort of grunted.
I giggled.
‘What?’
‘When you settle in for the night, you’ you make a sound’ like a piggie!’
‘I do not.’
‘PIGGIE! Grunt grunt!’
‘Shut up! You’re so mean!’
And then I laughed and laughed and laughed for what was possibly four hours. Poor Esteban. Poor wittle piggie.
Yup. Still funny.
