First and foremost, I must apologize for my absence. Wanting to end the summer with a bang, I have been traveling through Italy, building a new home for a neighborhood family in need, eating my way through France and enjoying the drama of pregnancy. (Sort of.)
Two weeks ago, after nearly two years of a TV free existence, I caved and got my cable hooked up. (I am not bragging, Mr. Lander, but simply stating a fact.) My travels through Italy were courtesy of Samantha Brown, the home was actually built by Ty Pennington, Rachael Ray ate a phenomenal looking cheese plate overlooking the Seine and the fertilized ovaries were courtesy of some 16-year-old Floridian on MTV. All from the comfort of my own couch, which I have learned is really not that comfortable. I now realize that I should have suspected as such when I inherited it secondhand from my mother, who clips coupons with a vengeance, often resulting in driving 10 miles out of her way to use the one where she earns 3 cents off each gallon of gas. Way to really stick it to the man, mom.
Anyways, I have learned much about the world these last few weeks. I am amazed at what I have been missing. And hooked. And, like the resourceful crack smoker I might someday be, I knew exactly where and how to find my next fix.
About a week ago, when I had nearly reached a guilty level of saturation, and literally felt my expensively educated brain turning stupid, I was blessed with a nasty cold that rendered me virtually useless. And we all know that fastest way to cure a cold is rest, rest and rest. Guilt be gone, a week later full of more tv, here we are.
Now, I cannot just watch tv. It is a complete thought process to me. Even though I may be quiet and a “good listener” in person, the commentary in my head never silences. I am constantly evaluating, judging and planning. Yes, even during mindless tv. For example, a few key points of things that have crossed my mind during this cable acquisition:
#1) Or should I say “Uno?”
I have dreams of being able to one day say that I am bilingual, yet I really have done nothing productively to conquer this mountain. Until now, amigos. I turned on Univision to see how much espanol I have retained since I passed my fluency test in college six years ago. Now, from the previous sentence you can tell that this will probably not go well since I can’t even remember how to put that damn sideways S above my “n.” As predicted, I understood exactly three phrases, “Sherlock Holmes” (no Spanish equivalent, I’m guessing), “por ejemplo” (which even the fancy shits who thought they were more advanced by taking French can figure out) and “cerveza” (which I learned in Mexico at 16, not from any vocabulary quiz.) Idiotically not deterred by my immediately huge failure, I got it in my head that hearing four words I recognized sounded so much more impressive than three. (Even after accounting for the fact that I was only trying to impress myself.) Therefore, I waited another 5 minutes to hear something like “tortilla” or “pesos” but no dice. I was, however, thrown completely off guard when the theme song from Sex and the City started playing as intro music to the newscast. Pure confusion. Which show actually was the first to claim the song? And then my mind wandered to how Carrie should have just married Aiden and called it a day, and how old Brady would be in real life, and how much I don’t really care about Spanish anymore. Also, I shall have Burrito Loco for dinner.
Shows that need to die: Married…With Children, Saved by the Bell: College Years, and Home Improvement. Further commenting is too painful.
Two episodes into Maury, I have the tallied the following statistics: fifteen potential fathers of six babies are still unclaimed in the world, a 57-year-old mother is fighting with her 34-year-old daughter for sleeping with her 65-year-old boyfriend, three moms do not mind that their toddlers weigh 100 pounds and will meet death in second grade during a relay race on field day, and three lie detector tests apparently are faulty when measuring the “definition” of cheating. Lord, beer me strength.
Sex still seems to be about the only activity available to waste the day away in Arkansas, because that Duggar family has been damn busy. Last time I saw TV their show was titled “16 Children and Moving In!” Now they are at “20 and Counting!” and have acquired their first “GrandDuggar.” So many questions weigh down the branches of this family tree for me. How weird would that be to have aunts and uncles younger than you? Is it illegal to change your uncle’s diaper? Would it not be weird to share simultaneous pregnancy stories with your mother-in-law? How many more names can start with the letter J? How can you not be mentally disturbed by the fact that you are having sex with a man named Jim Bob? Jim Bob does not sound like a name that I would consent to get anything from, beginning with handshakes.
Snooki’s hair bump on screen is much more frightening than in the magazines. But, always looking to add some volume to my thin strands, I had to actually stop watching tv and research this one. Should you feel like a Snooki bump is missing from your morning repertoire, I’m here to help. For a hairstyle she wears 365 days a year, she can’t do it for the life of her under the intimidating pressure of a YouTube filming crew. See if you can last the entire video without screaming at the dumbass “UNPART HER HAIR!!!” I lasted about 45 seconds. However, this inspires me to hide a tiny camera in a Snooki pouf of my own and record the reactions I get from people on the sidewalks of Saint Paul. Or from the pigeons dive bombing me from the sky.
2:55 is go time in my house. You better start getting your shit together. Make a trip to the bathroom, get your beverage, pop that popcorn, because at 3:00 p.m. you are to witness 60 minutes of heaven. Two of the greatest shows ever, according to yours truly, are on AT THE SAME TIME!!! Family Feud and Unsolved Mysteries, oh my god even writing about it I’m about to pee myself.
However, I am sad to report that Robert Stack is no longer with us. (Umm…as of 2003.) Oops. Sorry Robert. RIP. Seriously though, he was perfect for hosting this show. I used to watch it when I was about 10, and I used to have nightmares about him more than the stories of murder and fugitives and missing people and whatnot.
What I love about Family Feud I can’t even describe, but it sucks me in. Every time.
I still know every word of Saved by the Bell, but will still watch it in its entirety whenever I come across it. It’s amazing how nostalgic tv shows can make you feel. Way before Carrie Bradshaw, Kelly, Lisa and Jesse were people I wanted to be like when I was in high school. This did not really happen. The reality version goes: I wanted to be Kelly, was really probably more of a Jesse, and wished I had Lisa’s clothing allowance. Or roughly something like that. (P.S.-You cannot tell me that you do not relate to this list if you grew up in my era.)
Maybe this week I will try to tune into more educational things, like some CNN or the evening news. Or maybe spend some time outside. Or with three-dimensional people. But, as you can see, this trashy tv has been so educational thus far. And addicting. And furthermore, “Snugg Life” Snuggies are on sale this week, which really only ups the ante.