Sunday, January 8, 2012

I Am A Very Complex Person

Sometimes I wish I was one of those people that could smugly say, "Oh, I don't watch a lot of TV." But the fact is that I watch a lot of TV. However, I like to rationalize that usually I am multitasking while watching it, folding laundry, writing this blog, stalking banjo players, you know useful important things. However, since I have been sick, I have still been watching TV, however, not multitasking, unless you count coughing, sneezing, and lining up medicine and pill bottles by height and time of day that I have to partake of their contents.

But at least my viewing habits demonstrates that I am indeed a complex person:

 The Big Bang Theory. I have friends that have been singing the praises of this nerdy comedy for awhile, but it was never convenient for me to watch it. Not until reruns started playing in the sweet spot half hour after I came home  from work and before I guilt myself into being productive. Now I get it. It is hilarious.  Part of me feels that I should be ashamed that I understand much of the geekiness. But so be it. I am the daugther of scientist, and my best friend grew up with three older brothers that collected comic books. All the reruns have been from newer seasons and I became annoyed that I didn't know all the whole origin myth, so I just went out and bought the first season. Have anyone seen that Time Machine episode? The scene where the time machine "goes" into the future is the funniest thing I have seen in almost my entire life.

Downton Abbey. This is a BBC/PBS (double smart!)  period miniseries that follows a rich English family at the beginning of World War I. Its very Upstairs/Downstairs. Even though people have posh accents and drink large amounts of tea, and Maggie Smith plays a fabulous part, it still boils down to being a soap opera. And I love it, scandalous plots, gossipy housemaids and all. I re-watched season one as I giddily waited for season two to start tonight. I also love the styling of the show. I want all the coats and hats. Them all. 

The so-called Project Runway All-Stars. How can you call it an all stars season when it includes that chick that spits on the fabric and Daniel V isn't there? I have been a pretty faithful viewer since season one, and I don't even remember half the "all-stars". Not-fierce.

Post Script (aka I am about to change subjects): I have decided that tomorrow I am not going to be sick anymore. I can't take anymore time off, so I have made and packed up a couple different soups for my lunches and dinners for the week. And plenty of baby carrots.  Munching carrots at my desk as loudly as possible gives me a huge sense of passive aggressive satisfaction.

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