I used to be the kind of girl that watched all sorts of shows. In high school, I had a daily line up of TV that I would “just die” if I missed. Daily, I would leave giant notes on the kitchen table, reminding my father to push record on the VCR at precisely 7:00pm so that I would get to watch “Beverly Hills 90210,” “Party of 5,” (I would have done ANYTHING to be a Salinger) “Friends,” or “Felicity.” I would rush home from dance class to catch up on “Dawson’s Creek” and “Louis and Clark Superman.” Every Tuesday night I was glued to the TV to catch the latest episode  of “Buffy.” I even managed to schedule my classes so that I could be home to watch the daily disaster of a soap that was “Passions.”

It was only recently that I realized that most of my friends still have their TV rituals… and I do not. Oh there are a few shows that I still watch and enjoy when I manage to catch them (usually on TIVO,) but there aren’t any that I would change my schedule around to watch.

Yesterday as I was eating dinner, I sat down to watch the second episode of “Parenthood.” I had managed to catch the first episode (on TIVO) and had really enjoyed it. About five minutes or so into the episode I got up to check my email, and never came back. I thought about it a few times, but finally decided that I would rather watch “Star Trek” for the 14th time than get involved in a TV show. Even as I was clear in my decision, it bugged me. Why wouldn’t I give this perfectly adequate show a chance?

And then it dawned on me. I have developed a relationship pattern with television that is nearly identical to the relationship pattern that I have with men.

When I was young and care free, I fell in love easily. I would watch any old show that came along, and I would watch it with passion. The shows that I watched didn’t have much depth, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they entertained me. Most of the shows that I watched in high school, ironically ended about the same time that I graduated. Either that, or I lost interest when I moved away and didn’t have cable. It was the first time I realized that shows ended. That made sad. I grew up with those programs. I learned from them, both literally and figuratively. Then they were just gone, some without warning, leaving a big empty gap in my life.

Some of the shows that I watched in high school ended up in syndication, which kept my interest for a while until they became redundant. Eventually I quit watching them all together as my taste in television began to change.

I had to try out a few different genres before I really figured out what interested me. There was a time when I was all about the drama. I liked the shows that would leave me with a cliff-hanger, having to wait a full week to see what would happen next. There was a very short amount of time when I really liked the trashy shallowness that reality shows had to offer. For a while,  I was even really taken with educational programming, and stayed glued to TLC and The Animal Planet, for no other reason but because sometimes it feels good to spend time with someone who watching a show that can teach you a little something. Eventually they all bored me.

Then I found myself in a long pattern of falling for the more “quirky” types of shows like “Mr Show” and “Greg the Bunny.” I became obsessed with “Arrested Development,” and  “Freaks and Geeks.” They were the unconventional types of shows that didn’t interest everyone, but I saw that they had something from the beginning. It took me a while, (probably right around the time that Pushing Daisies got canceled) before I realized the fundamental problem with these types of shows. For whatever reason, lack of self-promotion or maybe self confidence -these shows never last. They almost always leave me are canceled within 2 or 3 seasons, leaving me without any sort of closure.

I have finally gotten to the point where I am afraid of falling for a show and investing my time in it. I’m scared that as soon as I do, it will go off the air, leaving me wandering what would have happened next.  Even the shows that that I love that I have been more been more faithful to like “Scrubs” eventually become finicky. I  hear one week that they have been canceled, only to be renewed at the last minute, and eventually they will completely jump the shark. (God Bless you “Scrubs.”)

I think I finally know what I’m looking for. I want the whole package… something that is,  for the most part- thought-provoking, funny, and with just enough drama to keep me interested. The problem is that you actually have to invest a little time into something to know for sure if that’s what you have, and that is down right frightening to me. I know that I will never find a show that I love if I never turn on the TV. I also know that no show is perfect, but there is bound to be a television show out there that would appeal to me long term.

Maybe it’s time that I end this ridiculously long metaphorical post and go watch that second episode of “Parenthood.” Although please believe me when I  tell you that you should read no further into the title of that show. I was talking about boys here, not babies.

I’m not a fan of ending a post with a question, but have you ever felt this way? and how do you people get over this (for lack of better word) jaded-ness?

I spent all morning writing a post that just disappeared to… I have no fucking clue where. Forgive me if this is grammatically retarded and completely un-pc, but I don’t feel like trying as hard this time around.

I actually started about 7 different posts that were potentially for today, but for one reason or another just never finished them.

I’m blaming it on the fact that I was just mega-slammed with work, and I  got a last minute call from Channel 6  News to be interviewed about my unnatural ability to do a hand stand against the wall for 8 hours at a time.

Ha.

Truth is, for the second time this week, I broke my “not drinking for almost a week” pact.  I only had a few much-needed cocktails, but I still feel like a big fat sack of guilty ass. Though I have no idea what that would actually look like.

The good news is that I kept my other pact to myself. I vowed that I would be completely committed to this little blog for the entire month of October… Meaning that, come rain or shine and no matter how boring the shit I threw at you was, I made a commitment that I would post every single weekday. Just to see if I could.

And check out that calendar on the side-bar over there—————————————————————–>

OH YEAH, BLOG! I Kellllly-Ripppppppad your ass!!!

And while this may not seem like a big deal to a lot of you, I have something inside of me that makes me  just want quit something as soon as I hear the word “commit.”

But alas, maybe these times they are a changin’.

So now I will continue with my visual presentation to the shit-storm that is my life… If you missed it, you can check out more visuals from last Friday’s post here.

Remember how I was just telling you about how I hate spiders?

I killed that mutha.

Well a certain little bugger  was sent from Satan himself to terrorize me this morning. Sure he was just a little thing, but nevertheless, he did his job well. At first I thought I was imagining things, (possibly experiencing the first signs of food poisoning that I’m sure to get after eating raw chicken last night) but after seeing a shadow repeatedly float across my computer screen, I knew he was there. I swear though, he was fucking with me on purpose. He used his nearly invisible web to cascade down from the ceiling, probably trying to get close enough to have a taste of my blood, and then as soon as I would notice him and attempt to take a swap, he would completely disappear!. I finally got him though. I would take a picture and show you, but there’s not a lot left.

Not only do I murder helpless creatures, but I steal shit too.

Does this count as littering?

Ok, so I don’t so much steal, (I’m not that tough) but I do accidentally take things quite often. I blame it on my severe case of untreated ADD. I’ll be focused and right in the middle of doing something….

I should totally go get fake eyelashes for tonight. Oooh, there’s a Target across the street.

Which is what happened at the bank a few days ago when I ended up driving away with that little thingie that they send you your money in. I have no clue what to call it, but if you don’t know what I’m talking about look at the picture above, ya dumbass.

Oh I’m feeling a little frisky this morning. Must have been all that sugar. Does anyone know how to make pumpkin dip? I really want some for the party tomorrow. I have a feeling that it is something like pumpkin pie, but I don’t know how to make that either.

Damn, see… happened again.

So anyways, I drove away with the thingie. I would have just taken it bac k, but I’ve already had to do that once this month, and I didn’t want to go to the embarrassment trouble. Hence the reason that I bowling balled that container right out of my car when I realized I had it. Always get rid of the evidence…. And then take a picture and blog about it… is what I always say.

Really, this is a philosophy of mine. (not the blog part) Chunk it out of the car.

Once, my college roommate accused me of taking her Outcast CD.  I denied and denied, because I don’t listen to Outcast.

About a year later I was going through my cd’s and came across that Outcast CD. I have no idea how it got there, but I sure enough chunked that shiz out the window in a moment of panic. And now, I’m blogging about it. (If you’re reading this… I AM REALLY SORRY!!!)

Have I already told you that I want to take wine behind the schoolyard and get it pregnant?

I’m pretty sure that I have.

My roommates and I have started collecting the wine corks and empty  bottles to use to make artsy things. They have even gone to the trouble of ordering glass cutters and candles and decorative rocks and such. Don’t worry, I’ll post pictures of our projects for you. Just as soon as we feel we have saved enough material to really get started.

Don’t hold your breath.

Have you met my roommate Jake?

Just your average night at my house.

For the most part I get along with all my roommates. Jake and I just have a…. special kind of friendship. Ok, I won’t beat around the bush. He is the only person in the world that has the ability to make me want to stab myself repeatedly in the eye. And I’m pretty sure he is committed to making me do so. He has the ability to speak my name at a volume that makes animals do crazy things like jump of cliffs and bite the hands off of small children. Oh the torture! Forget waterboarding, just send Jake. You’ll get all the answers you want.

Another example of his Jakiness? Last night, for no apparent reason, Jake decided it would be funny to reach his hand down the back of his pants and chase me around the house threatening to wipe butt juice on me. Luckily, I possess the only weapon that works on Jake (and most gay guys)… a vajayjay. Oh yes. Two can play this game. The chase lasted for about fifteen minutes and ended with Jake locking himself in the bathroom. I win.

On a side note, this pretty much works with anything when dealing with Jake. As long as I have the ability to drop my pants, I win!

I know you think otherwise, but I’m not perfect.

Note to self: wear a bra.

I know I’ve mentioned that my Halloween costume this year consists of a pair of saggy boobs that i ordered off the internet. Well last night, my other roommate Denny, ( who usually doesn’t give me trouble) asked me why I was wearing them a few days early.

FML.

HAPPY HALLOWEINER!

I have either gone out of town or had really big plans the last few weekends- and I’m not sure my body can take any more. I haven’t been able to afford the time or money to get a vaccination to void off the aporkalypse  and I’m a little afraid I’m getting ill, but even more afraid that this lack of sleep is sending me on the fast track to my own personal zombie apocalypse.

I don’t even think that made sense.

But dude, if I really was in the zombie apocalypse, I would frickin love to mow down some zombies! Ever since I saw Zombieland I have imagined that every person on the side of the road is a zombie, and it is my personal duty to smash them into jelly!

I wonder if it is really true that cows and llamas can mate and make hybrid “cammas” that are so stupid that they have to be put out of their misery…

Ooooh! I should see if my roommates want to make a fort in the  living room tonight and eat cheese and crackers for dinner.

Yes…  this is what my brain has been doing to me all week. I’m just going to quit thinking now. But I won’t leave you with just a mumble jumble of a post, because if you are here and still reading, then you deserve to see something of worth… so I’ll do my best.

In light of my new tradition of FML Fridays,  I now present to you with a few images of the hurricane that is my life, that I feel that you should see if we are going to be friends.

If you don’t want to waste your time seeing boring ass pictures that depict how disgusting I am, I suggest you skip to the bottom of this post, where I will truly mortify myself with a video or two.

First, I introduce you to the way that I live… my room.

I mmeannn… the way it just happens to look right now.

My room has been hit. By hurricane me. Sooo sad.

I swear it’s not usually this bad, and honestly it is driving me crazy. I’m going to have to spend a good amount of lovin with my room this weekend.

It doesn’t stop there, welcome to my closet.

My closet also has the swine and is throwing up all over the place!

But wait, at least I make really awesome art! (sarcasm, my friend.)

My wall o' "attempt at creativity"

What’s that you say? You want a close up? I’m not very good at taking pictures either, but I’ll do my best!

And by art, I mean a collage tree.

More, you ask?

Yeah, those were just postcards that I cut and pasted (and then painted a coat of glitter over, of course.)

And yet more “art…”

Yeah. I made a collage of butterflies. What of it?

Oh and don’t worry, I have been destroying furniture since 1996.

Oh yeah, you know you want one!

And now,  I introduce you to my car.

If you can spot my glasses you win a prize. Really, I need them and they're missing.

It’s not always like this (yes it is) but I basically live out of my car and I haven’t had the time nor the energy to clean it out in these hard times. To make matters worse, there is a dead animal of sorts rotting beneath all this nastiness, and it smells of the high heavens. It has rained for the last two days, and I’m fairly sure the moisture in the air has increased the stench ten-fold. I’m also pretty sure that if I got pulled over, I would be arrested for murder. My “there must be rotten food in my trunk” excuse would quickly be dismissed.

But before you completely go off judging my car, and myself for that matter,  I feel  I should re-introduce you to this:

Dashboard Jesus!!

Dashboard Jesus puts a smile on my face every day. However, my car has recently taken on the act of bouncing violently whenever I’m in idle, and it makes Jesus do inappropriate things that make me feel a little bit uncomfortable.

I should also probably tell you that I come from a long line of nerds.

I look like I wasn't happy about posing for this, but that was just a pose.

Have I told you that when I was young, my mother loved to wake me up by blaring the Star Trek theme song, and that I actually kind of liked it? Her most recent act of nerd-dom, is her new found love of Second Life. (Don’t kill me mom!)  I didn’t know much about it until recently, but you can apparently make an avatar that is anything from human to Giant mummy squid. Your options are unlimited. My mother has chosen to make her avatar be an elf, which I actually think is really cool. Well, that may seem irrelevant, but she has recently taken an obsession to all things elven. As I was walking out to leave my parent’s house a few weeks ago, my mom stopped and asked me to put on elf ears for a few pictures. I feigned annoyance for about 5 minutes before I agreed. I(I was really excited inside to get to wear these ears.)

And then she took the liberty to photo-shop me into a piece that she calls, “The Whispering Elf”

(I liked it so much it' is my current facebook profile pic)

Have you met my mom’s tattoo?

NOT as big in person. (pleasssse don't kill me mom!)

I don’t know if you’ve realized it, but I have a very close relationship with vodka…

That is enough to bring on depression.

And in case you haven’t seen enough, I really cannot sing, which is sad- because I realllly love to do so.

I promised you, way back  during my first month of blogging- that I would post these.

Just for a little background…. This was a weekend back in July, when I was going through a break up and not feeling very good about myself, hence probably why I started this blog. On that particular Saturday night, I went to my roommate Jake’s  mother’s birthday party. They rented out a bar and even went so far as to hire a singer to perform. It was awesome! At some point in the night, someone had the bright idea that if they could get me up on stage, it would cheer me up. Well boy did it ever.

This first video is when I first went up and sang with the hired singer, Archie, who had (I am guessing) never sang “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” By the sounds of it, I haven’t either.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

And if you haven’t had enough, eventually after exhausting the hired singer, I started inviting other people to come and sing with me. Here is one of my roommate Jake and my rendition of  Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” It’s bad, but if you can stick around to the head banging, it’s kind of funny. (at least to me)

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Just for shiz, if you’re still interested and insane, (I literally took over the microphone for the remainder of the evening) here is a final video of my roommate Denny and I singing “You’ve Lost that Lovin Feeling.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

That is all folks. Now excuse me while I go hide in a closet and cry.