Archive for the ‘TV is not a remedy’ Category

Velvet and butlers and clotted cream oh my

January 15, 2012

Homemade apricot scones! Quite delicious and the perfect treat for Downton Abbey viewing. Mrs. Patmore might even approve – though I did use a recipe and an electric stove

Yes, I am one of the millions consumed with every detail of Downton Abbey. I re-watched Season 1 this past week. I re-watched Episode 1 of Season 2 at least 3 times.

Everything about this show is perfection. The music, the costumes, the cast, the writing, the lace & velvet, the locations, the accents, the relationships…the costumes. I can’t think of a single thing that could be improved upon.

I long for a red velvet dress like Lady Cora’s. Is it wrong to want to play dress up?

 

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Like a watermelon falling off the back of a truck

June 29, 2009

I’m fairly trembling with energy.

My tiny chihuahua-sized cold isn’t stopping me.  

The weekend before I got my chihuahua sized cold, I had no energy. I languished by the TV watching the Food Network all weekend. “Such amazing people. They cook. Why does my face feel like it’s melting off?” 

This week I am my own HGTV/Food Network star.

Lots of scrubbing, sometimes with my newly acquired Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. I like bald men.

Lots of pile making. Weeding. Whittling.  Stacking. Straightening. Storing.

New piles in new locations.

Making omelets and chicken and biscuits. Baking cakes with rosewater flavoring. Copying recipes. Grinding coffee beans.

Would this [ugly] $10 metal shelf  be tolerable if I painted it  pink and hung it in the bathroom? No, it would actually be cute. Note how tight the screws are. This shelf is sturdy. You can put things on it.

Planning projects…and I could do this and this and this. I just need more tools.

Putting dvds in alphabetical order. Rearranging Dave Matthews Band cds so they are in order of release date. (I realize this borders on abnormal but I’m just going with it.)

Closing files at work. They’re not even my files , but just look at all the room I’ve made. Praise please. 

Pulling weeds. Sharpening pencils. No task too small.

I like being like this. This making chaos out of order and order out of chaos.

Finishing books and closing them shut with a satisfying snap.

Maybe I’m Just Tired

April 5, 2009

(My heavy head is full of debris  -As Tall As Lions)

Like my sick kitty, the wisdom teeth, the car mirror, locking the keys  in the car, getting my hand stuck in the shredding bin, and people who don’t help their kids.

(I know we’re all souls just trying to connect with someone – As Tall As Lions)

Dan Nigro played in bare feet and said his father owns a paper company like Dunder Mifflin, and my sick kitty is brave and full of purrs even when she’s unwell, and it’s National Poetry Month, and she made me an ATAL shirt and he gave me a Liguus fasciatus shell.

(You’re lost in your mind -As Tall As Lions)

Is anything going to happen in Agnes Grey or is she just going to go on and on about being a governess and will I ever figure out what’s going on in Little Dorit or will I just continue to watch because of Matthew MacFayden, will she get better or will she just keep losing weight, is she in pain, how much better looking can Jack get and when will Des be on again, do people really get what’s coming to them (is it wrong of me to hope they do) and what’s the plural of amaryllis?

(I stay awake thinking this life is lonely – As Tall As Lions)

Maybe that’s why I just want to sit and work on eggs, bent over the table, listening to music, getting a stiff neck. Lost.

Charles Widmore got to Dish Network

February 19, 2009

I love LOST, I love LOST, I love LOST. If it’s Wednesday night I am watching the clock gleefully anticipating 9 pm when I experience confusion interspersed with brief moments of insight. And Desmond.

 

Last night Jack was waking up in a jungle. Again, without me. Just once I’d like to wake up beside him. And then Hurley and Jack are speaking Spanish. And I have no idea what’s going on but Hurley’s flailing around in the water yelling in Spanish and clinging to a guitar case. Jack dives in to save him, because he always saves everyone and looks incredibly handsome while doing so.

 

“OK,” I’m thinking, “They aren’t on the island – they’re in some Spanish speaking country and magically know how to speak Spanish.” It makes sense for a minute, because Hurley probably already knows Spanish and magic things are always happening on the island. People who can’t walk – walk and people who should die – live and so maybe people who speak English – speak Spanish.

 

But the voices are all wrong and the dub is way off and it’s making me crave tacos. And then some other characters are speaking Spanish. I don’t understand.

 

An ad comes on. It’s in English. I understand.

 

LOST comes back on. It’s in Spanish. Tengo muchas preguntas!

 

I am frantically checking other channels and they are all in English.

 

“Something’s screwed up with LOST. It’s in Spanish!” I shout to No One in Particular.

 

I check Lost again. It’s still in Spanish. Dios mio.

 

I press mute. The subtitles are in English. I try to read along. There are no ominous sounds or  music. This sucks.

 

No One in Particular calls the ABC affiliate in Tampa. They know all about the problem and have received a hundred calls from Dish users. The problem isn’t their fault, it’s Satan’s  DishNetwork’s.

 

Now Desmond is shouting emotionally in Spanish and in someone else’s voice. I still love him.

 

I call Dish and announce I am a disgruntled LOST fan and they have ruined my life or at least the last half hour of my life. After feigning shock and sympathy Tech Support says the problem is logged in their system and they’re already working on it.

 

I hang up feeling alone and unfulfilled. I continue flipping back and forth between Spanish and subtitles. Something is going on with an envelope and a pair of shoes. Zapatos. I understand the word for shoes. Claro.

 

At 9:45 LOST is in English.

 

At 9:48 it’s in Spanish.

 

Suddenly it dawns on me. It’s Widmore. Or Ben. Or the Dharma Initiative. It’s totally interactive. Brilliant! The characters never know what’s going on and now neither do I. Which is pretty much the same as usual only not as fun.

 

At 10 I leave the TV on for a few minutes. Life on Mars starts. It’s in English.

Dick Meyer says “worship the off button”

November 4, 2008

I’m afraid to watch the election coverage tonight. Afraid that lying, cheating, fear-mongering Republicans might win again and I will wake up in a dark alley somewhere lying in a pool of my own vomit because my tonic for four more years of Republican Rule would be alcoholism.

And that’s not something I really want to contemplate. I’m not Bukowski or Fitzgerald or Hemingway. I don’t really function well under the influence of alcohol. I just get sleepy and headachey and stupid.

I’d much rather spend the next four years drinking coffee, going to work, baking pies and reading things like “Why We Hate Us” by Dick Meyer.

Why do we hate us? Because there too many of us think someone like Sarah Palin represents a smart, working woman with good old-fashioned family values.

Meyer thinks it’s because we lack community, we have too many choices and live fast paced lives. This leads to selfishness and what he dubs “the hedonistic treadmill” of focusing on getting things you think will really make you happy and then when they don’t, craving something else.

Meyer found that much of what we hate in our every day lives are things which make us feel invisible or dismissed, like people swearing in front of children or cutting in line or blabbing away on their cell phones about their sex lives. This in turn makes us want to withdraw and tune out even more.

He suggests in a very non-preachy and sincere way, that to make us like us more we need to find and nurture real commitments in community and private life. We must try to make more thoughtful and unselfish choices. (note: buy this book for Cosmo for Christmas and highlight this part) We should turn the TV and phone and computers off more and actually interact with people. And we should also cultivate a moral temperament that will guide our treatment of others.

Sounds pretty simple but apparently Mr. Ford 4X 150 hasn’t read this book because he parked beside my Yaris yesterday and left his loud, smelly, bullshit gas guzzling engine running while I was trying to eat, read and watch the ducks paddling around  the pond. I had to move to another parking space to get away from his dipshittiness. 

Hey Mr. Ford 4X 150, listen to Dick Meyer and try making decisions with character and consideration and stop being selfish. Then maybe we won’t hate you so much.

Oh right, the book. It was really good. I felt better after I read it, knowing that a bunch of other people hate everyone too. Wait, that sounds selfish. Shit. This is going to take some work.