I've encountered several people who pride themselves in their ability to throw things away. Being a lifelong packrat/family historian/boarderline hoarder some of these trashcan fillers outright horrify me.
One of the most painful things for me to find in an antique store are old pictures. Why didn't the family keep these treasures? Did they not care? Did they not know what to do with them? Was there even anyone left to pass the pictures to? How dreadful that my great grand children might possibly not appreciate the stack of old faces I have so carefully collected and charted on our family tree.
And then I remember there is a whole breed of people out there who have no space in their sparse lives for old things. If something is tattered it feels dirty. Who wants dirt and grime in their pristine homes?
Recently I've had to come in behind such a people in different situations. While coming in after a non-organized person who never throws anything away is a lot of work, there are many gems to be found in the depths. Perseverance pays off. Behind the tosser is... nothing. Absolutely nothing. It is sparse.
More often than not the sparseness reveals only what the tosser wants you to see. It's manipulative. It doesn't answer my question, it answers only what they want to reveal. When I seek coloring books I'm offered blocks; when I need wheels I'm offered pegs; when I hope for explanations I'm given emptiness. It's bleak.
Another trait I find with tossers is a lack of organization. It's easy to sort three items, it's overwhelming to deal with thirty. I know a woman who hates clutter so much that cleaning involves either tossing or hiding. When visiting her son's home she tried to put dishes away, driving her daughter-in-law insane because the small plates and cups and bowls were UNDER the larger items. WHO DOES THAT? At first the daughter-in-law wondered if it was an intentional act to alienate her but no, it was done in other places in other ways. Then DIL started to look around the in-law's house. It was neat and tidy but not organized. Drawers and cabinets revealed a mishmash of disjointed items. I know one woman who can't handle seeing dirty dishes so much that she actually throws away dishes. My inner cheapskate is outright astonished at such an act!
I know that not all tossers are unorganized but I'm finding more and more the two traits go hand in hand.
My beloved sister-in-law and I had a conversation around this topic yesterday. In describing my style of cleaning and organization, "My office may look like a tribe of rapid monkeys were set loose but all of my drawers and cabinets are very orderly." Even as a kid when my mom stood in the doorway proclaiming my room looked like a pigsty and pondering which are clean clothes how I ever find anything - trust me, I knew. I have a process and don't fuck with it. My layers of clutter are merely waiting patiently to be organized.
I'm sure somewhere between clutter-waiting-for-organization and bleak-sparseness is a happy medium. I'm quite happy in my cluster of stuff, just don't ever tell me if I haven't touched it in three months I don't need it.
Showing posts with label Confessions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Confessions. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Thursday, August 28, 2014
When a Movie Strikes a Nerve
Out of nowhere - watching a movie, hearing a song on the radio, flipping through pictures, talking to a friend - and BAM you're transported to somewhere in your past. The smells and sounds and feelings all come rushing back. This isn't deja vu, it's just a memory. Sometimes it's a bad memory, sometimes it's a happy memory, and sometimes it just "was".
Yesterday I was watching Saving Mr. Banks, the story of how Walt Disney finally convinced P. L. Travers to sign over movie rights to Mary Poppins. Overall it was a sweet story despite some controversy as to how closely, if at all, it was from fact.
There are parts in the movie meant to tug the heartstrings, others that would reasonably stir old emotions, but the moment it hit nothing on the screen was deep or spectacular. Walt was standing in front of Disneyland welcoming Travers to the park. Suddenly it spilled over me not just being in THAT park but also in that time frame. Okay I wasn't even alive in 1964 but at some point in the late sixties I was taken to Disneyland. I remember the perfectly manicured hedges shaped into characters and I definitely recall standing on the bridge to Sleeping Beauty's castle. By the way the castle was HUGE. At the same time I was remembering my first experience there I was also struck with a simultaneous track of the last time I visited. Sleeping Beauty's castle, by the way, had shrunk.
Nine years ago I took my kids on an awesome west coast road trip that included a day in Disneyland. If I had any doubts niggling in the back of my mind about blowing my retirement on that trip it was all erased in one flush, sitting in my livingroom, watching this movie about the making of Mary Poppins. Did I mention that I love and adore Mary Poppins?
It was all just so... happy. The tears trying to escape my eyes were not mournful, just happy. Something right happened in my life and this little segment on screen reminded me of it
Yesterday I was watching Saving Mr. Banks, the story of how Walt Disney finally convinced P. L. Travers to sign over movie rights to Mary Poppins. Overall it was a sweet story despite some controversy as to how closely, if at all, it was from fact.
There are parts in the movie meant to tug the heartstrings, others that would reasonably stir old emotions, but the moment it hit nothing on the screen was deep or spectacular. Walt was standing in front of Disneyland welcoming Travers to the park. Suddenly it spilled over me not just being in THAT park but also in that time frame. Okay I wasn't even alive in 1964 but at some point in the late sixties I was taken to Disneyland. I remember the perfectly manicured hedges shaped into characters and I definitely recall standing on the bridge to Sleeping Beauty's castle. By the way the castle was HUGE. At the same time I was remembering my first experience there I was also struck with a simultaneous track of the last time I visited. Sleeping Beauty's castle, by the way, had shrunk.
Nine years ago I took my kids on an awesome west coast road trip that included a day in Disneyland. If I had any doubts niggling in the back of my mind about blowing my retirement on that trip it was all erased in one flush, sitting in my livingroom, watching this movie about the making of Mary Poppins. Did I mention that I love and adore Mary Poppins?
It was all just so... happy. The tears trying to escape my eyes were not mournful, just happy. Something right happened in my life and this little segment on screen reminded me of it
Friday, October 26, 2012
Friday Fragments - October 26, 2012
I'm not exactly sure which strain of the plague I've contracted but I've missed several days of work. Today I'm ready to get back in the saddle. It kills me that I've wasted the last three days sitting on the couch when we have had some of the most wonderful sunny weather. Of course today is going to be blustery and COLD. Yesterday our temps went from 80° down to 40 something.
Last Saturday we took advantage of a free shredding service at the bank. We drug in four boxes with documents I've been keeping over the last twenty-five years. I don't feel so bad clinging onto old tax returns, but my ex-husband's paycheck stubs from 1991? Yeah, those could have gone in the trash... in 1992. 1993 at the most. Holding onto them until 2012 was really unnecessary. We won't even mention that those boxes have moved to three or four different houses. In my defense, I knew better than to simply toss sensitive documents like that in the general trash. It had to be shredded. And I never owned a shredder until recently. And then I blew out the motor trying to chew through the mounds and mounds of old crap I've accumulated over the years. A free shredding event was the only way to preserve the new shredder we bought that now only eats current documents in small doses.
Sunday we finally graced my brother with a visit to his new house. They were celebrating a combined birthday party for two of their children. People from both sides of their families attended so it was a fairly crowded affair. Hubby and I enjoyed the visit and are more than a little envious of their spacious house and quiet piece of land. Ian really liked the opportunity to hang out with his cousin. The boys are two years apart in age, but that's about the only difference.
Wedding bells are ringing. We are only 50 days away from my older son getting married. I had the great opportunity to design the invitations. I can't wait to see how they turned out.
Last Saturday we took advantage of a free shredding service at the bank. We drug in four boxes with documents I've been keeping over the last twenty-five years. I don't feel so bad clinging onto old tax returns, but my ex-husband's paycheck stubs from 1991? Yeah, those could have gone in the trash... in 1992. 1993 at the most. Holding onto them until 2012 was really unnecessary. We won't even mention that those boxes have moved to three or four different houses. In my defense, I knew better than to simply toss sensitive documents like that in the general trash. It had to be shredded. And I never owned a shredder until recently. And then I blew out the motor trying to chew through the mounds and mounds of old crap I've accumulated over the years. A free shredding event was the only way to preserve the new shredder we bought that now only eats current documents in small doses.
Sunday we finally graced my brother with a visit to his new house. They were celebrating a combined birthday party for two of their children. People from both sides of their families attended so it was a fairly crowded affair. Hubby and I enjoyed the visit and are more than a little envious of their spacious house and quiet piece of land. Ian really liked the opportunity to hang out with his cousin. The boys are two years apart in age, but that's about the only difference.
Wedding bells are ringing. We are only 50 days away from my older son getting married. I had the great opportunity to design the invitations. I can't wait to see how they turned out.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Why Do My Sheets Smell Like Pickles
I crawled into bed and the distinct smell of pickles wafted up from the covers. I like pickles, but not so much that I would eat them in bed. And it's not an scent I would ever use to deodorize anything in my house unless it was to trump something stinkier, maybe a skunk?
Then why on earth would my sheets smell like PICKLES? I sat there and mulled it over and started to discern the smells. Suddenly they opened up and I start to notice the essence of coconut. Ah, that would be the luscious Sephora body butter I was given for Christmas. I've been slathering that on my feet every night with fabulous results. But the other scent? hmmm.... that has to be Vicks. Yes, Vicks, the camphor rub I use to open my sinuses at night. Evidently it doesn't reduce my snoring but it soothes my congested airways enough that I can fall asleep. I might be addicted to it. At least I don't ingest it like my former father-in-law claims to do when he's sick - seriously. It even warns ON the jar NOT to ingest it. GROSS!
So science discovery of the day - Tropical Jasmine body butter mixed with Vicks Vap-o-Rub smells like dill pickles.
You're welcome, I know you've been waiting for that information.
Then why on earth would my sheets smell like PICKLES? I sat there and mulled it over and started to discern the smells. Suddenly they opened up and I start to notice the essence of coconut. Ah, that would be the luscious Sephora body butter I was given for Christmas. I've been slathering that on my feet every night with fabulous results. But the other scent? hmmm.... that has to be Vicks. Yes, Vicks, the camphor rub I use to open my sinuses at night. Evidently it doesn't reduce my snoring but it soothes my congested airways enough that I can fall asleep. I might be addicted to it. At least I don't ingest it like my former father-in-law claims to do when he's sick - seriously. It even warns ON the jar NOT to ingest it. GROSS!
So science discovery of the day - Tropical Jasmine body butter mixed with Vicks Vap-o-Rub smells like dill pickles.
You're welcome, I know you've been waiting for that information.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
The Basement Grocery
He says he hates to shop, yet every week my beloved scans through the newspaper ads carefully cutting out coupons. He watches for the best deals and spends his days off hopping from one grocery store to the next. He may hate shopping, but he does love getting a deal. Saving money is his favorite pastime.
When I moved into this house, before my coupon crazy husband entered my life, I reveled in the fact that there were shelves in the basement. That for once, I could finally stock up on a few necessary items as my previous houses never had ample storage. Little did I know that in a few years these shelves would be quivering under the weight of our latest booty.
I take great pleasure in picking on my husband for his shopping adventures. The endless supply of toilet paper amuses me to no end. Between coupons and some store sale last spring, he brought home all that his little minivan could carry. We have enough toilet paper to wipe our asses for quite some time. This picture was taken just a few days ago and hardly a dent has been made in our supply. I thought it would take us a year to go through that much toilet paper, but it looks like I may be wrong. It will be much longer.
Before I get all smug over the toilet paper frenzy maybe we should peek at the shelves.
Notice the over-OCD manner of neat rows, labels pointing forward?
Yeah, that would be MY illness rearing its ugly little head - the compulsive need for order. At least my husband and I have complimentary illnesses? When we move I have dreams of a real, honest-to-God pantry. Can you imagine the damage we could do with one of those??? And yes, I'm pretty sure we'll need a few shelves in the basement to catch the overflow.
My daughter finds the current storage room extremely hilarious. And is a little envious. Her little apartment dwelling self swears she's going to come to my house to do her shopping. We've started referring to that corner as "The Basement Grocery Store".
When I moved into this house, before my coupon crazy husband entered my life, I reveled in the fact that there were shelves in the basement. That for once, I could finally stock up on a few necessary items as my previous houses never had ample storage. Little did I know that in a few years these shelves would be quivering under the weight of our latest booty.
I take great pleasure in picking on my husband for his shopping adventures. The endless supply of toilet paper amuses me to no end. Between coupons and some store sale last spring, he brought home all that his little minivan could carry. We have enough toilet paper to wipe our asses for quite some time. This picture was taken just a few days ago and hardly a dent has been made in our supply. I thought it would take us a year to go through that much toilet paper, but it looks like I may be wrong. It will be much longer.
Before I get all smug over the toilet paper frenzy maybe we should peek at the shelves.
Notice the over-OCD manner of neat rows, labels pointing forward?
Yeah, that would be MY illness rearing its ugly little head - the compulsive need for order. At least my husband and I have complimentary illnesses? When we move I have dreams of a real, honest-to-God pantry. Can you imagine the damage we could do with one of those??? And yes, I'm pretty sure we'll need a few shelves in the basement to catch the overflow.My daughter finds the current storage room extremely hilarious. And is a little envious. Her little apartment dwelling self swears she's going to come to my house to do her shopping. We've started referring to that corner as "The Basement Grocery Store".
Friday, September 04, 2009
BLAH
As I read through past postings I'm a little bored. This reads like a freaking diary. "Dear diary I took a walk" BLAH!!!
I cry laughing every time I read The Bloggess. SHE is funny. She obviously has ADD. I totally follow her line of thinking or lack thereof.
So I will try to kick it up, make it more interesting, more fun, more... me.
........................
Yes today was another walk. In the parking lot was something akin to a traveling Curves shop. Seriously. There was a SUV with a bunch of exercise equipment strewn out behind it. Three women were working out with the equipment, a fourth jogging in circles. It's one thing to go to a gym and work out, it's another to get up before dawn, meet up with other exercise freaks, drive to a park, get out the equipment and start working it.
I don't know, that's too much effort. I mean I just jump out of bed, change clothes, put on shoes and grunt at my son before waltzing out the door. Bam I'm out and back in fifteen minutes. It's practically no effort at all.
Meeting up with people? In the morning? That really violates my morning prerogatives. It would involve being pleasant and engaging in mindless, friendly chatter. Holy crap I am soooo not up to that. I prefer not to talk in the morning. If I have to I'm usually annoying. It sounds happy and chipper but it's an act. It's how I am able to belt out bad opera to wake my kids.
Seeing those women in their cute workout clothes, bouncing up and down - ugh. It pissed me off. Go hide in a gym like a decent person. But I know they won't. They want the world to see their efforts, they flaunt it. I bet they also spend their lunch hours reciting the total caloric count of breakfast and lunch to their less diet-inclined coworkers. Poor saps. If their coworkers were in better shape maybe they could muster the strength and imagination to strangle the bitches. Kinda ironic, huh?
I cry laughing every time I read The Bloggess. SHE is funny. She obviously has ADD. I totally follow her line of thinking or lack thereof.
So I will try to kick it up, make it more interesting, more fun, more... me.
........................
Yes today was another walk. In the parking lot was something akin to a traveling Curves shop. Seriously. There was a SUV with a bunch of exercise equipment strewn out behind it. Three women were working out with the equipment, a fourth jogging in circles. It's one thing to go to a gym and work out, it's another to get up before dawn, meet up with other exercise freaks, drive to a park, get out the equipment and start working it.
I don't know, that's too much effort. I mean I just jump out of bed, change clothes, put on shoes and grunt at my son before waltzing out the door. Bam I'm out and back in fifteen minutes. It's practically no effort at all.
Meeting up with people? In the morning? That really violates my morning prerogatives. It would involve being pleasant and engaging in mindless, friendly chatter. Holy crap I am soooo not up to that. I prefer not to talk in the morning. If I have to I'm usually annoying. It sounds happy and chipper but it's an act. It's how I am able to belt out bad opera to wake my kids.
Seeing those women in their cute workout clothes, bouncing up and down - ugh. It pissed me off. Go hide in a gym like a decent person. But I know they won't. They want the world to see their efforts, they flaunt it. I bet they also spend their lunch hours reciting the total caloric count of breakfast and lunch to their less diet-inclined coworkers. Poor saps. If their coworkers were in better shape maybe they could muster the strength and imagination to strangle the bitches. Kinda ironic, huh?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
I Took A Walk
Life lesson number one: Never say never.
I swore I would never be one of those people who would take walks. I'm not sure how I envisioned getting exercise into my world, but it certainly was not going to be through walking. But I also spent the first half of my life being the skinniest person in the room. I didn't need to contemplate exercise.
And here I am double the size I was in high school, very frustrated as I teeter on the 200 mark on the scale. It's time. I've reached my breaking point. Something has to be done and I really need to get my body moving to overcome this fabulous couch potato physique.
For quite some time I have been after myself to start walking. Two years ago I moved practically spitting distance from a beautiful park with a nature trail. Four years previous to that I lived exactly five houses away from a school that had several paths perfect for walking. Committing myself to walk has loomed over my head for several years. But it's soooooo... much effort.
Knowing my issues with morning - I really should blog on my morning persona since I'm among the living dead before 9am on any given day - I never even contemplated doing my walks in the morning. I figured I would get home and take my walks in the early evening. Unfortunately when I get home my brain is focused on dinner and relaxing. I don't have a terribly stressful job, but I manage to have days that frazzle me just the same. Can you image that there are days that I have to THINK? It can be pretty exhausting at times so my first goal when I get home is to lay on the couch.
During the past several years I have started waking up, voluntarily, at 6am. This is contrary to my Night Owl pledge. At first it was out of necessity as I ensured my children woke up in ample time to make their way to school. After they left the house I would slowly start my day. Most recently I have landed nearly an hour and a half to myself. It is pure heaven. I can get online, catch up with recorded shows or dance around with my ipod.
Recent walks later in the day I discovered that I can leave my house, do an entire "lap" around the park and be back on my couch in fifteen minutes. Surely I can squeeze that into my morning routine?
Right?
So Monday morning I jumped out of bed, quickly put on something decent and headed out the door. My son was already at the bus stop when I returned home. He didn't think I would actually do it. I'm getting a lot of disbelief about my morning walks. One time, maybe two is a fluke. Actually, I'm in that crowd too. And on Tuesday I had a night filled with insomnia and overslept that morning. No walk. But yesterday and today I did repeat Monday's feat. YAY!!!!
Knowing my aversion to mornings, to exercise, to walking specifically, and my general inability to stick with anything, I have low expectations here. My goal is to do one month of walking. I'm not even committing myself to every day, just a couple times a week for a month. At that point I will assess my progress.
I make no promises as to what will come of that assessment. That is too much pressure. Just dealing with the day at hand is my real goal. And knowing myself it could be January before I remember to take my one month assessment (it's currently August). That's okay. In fact that is what I hope happens.
I swore I would never be one of those people who would take walks. I'm not sure how I envisioned getting exercise into my world, but it certainly was not going to be through walking. But I also spent the first half of my life being the skinniest person in the room. I didn't need to contemplate exercise.
And here I am double the size I was in high school, very frustrated as I teeter on the 200 mark on the scale. It's time. I've reached my breaking point. Something has to be done and I really need to get my body moving to overcome this fabulous couch potato physique.
For quite some time I have been after myself to start walking. Two years ago I moved practically spitting distance from a beautiful park with a nature trail. Four years previous to that I lived exactly five houses away from a school that had several paths perfect for walking. Committing myself to walk has loomed over my head for several years. But it's soooooo... much effort.
Knowing my issues with morning - I really should blog on my morning persona since I'm among the living dead before 9am on any given day - I never even contemplated doing my walks in the morning. I figured I would get home and take my walks in the early evening. Unfortunately when I get home my brain is focused on dinner and relaxing. I don't have a terribly stressful job, but I manage to have days that frazzle me just the same. Can you image that there are days that I have to THINK? It can be pretty exhausting at times so my first goal when I get home is to lay on the couch.
During the past several years I have started waking up, voluntarily, at 6am. This is contrary to my Night Owl pledge. At first it was out of necessity as I ensured my children woke up in ample time to make their way to school. After they left the house I would slowly start my day. Most recently I have landed nearly an hour and a half to myself. It is pure heaven. I can get online, catch up with recorded shows or dance around with my ipod.
Recent walks later in the day I discovered that I can leave my house, do an entire "lap" around the park and be back on my couch in fifteen minutes. Surely I can squeeze that into my morning routine?
Right?
So Monday morning I jumped out of bed, quickly put on something decent and headed out the door. My son was already at the bus stop when I returned home. He didn't think I would actually do it. I'm getting a lot of disbelief about my morning walks. One time, maybe two is a fluke. Actually, I'm in that crowd too. And on Tuesday I had a night filled with insomnia and overslept that morning. No walk. But yesterday and today I did repeat Monday's feat. YAY!!!!
Knowing my aversion to mornings, to exercise, to walking specifically, and my general inability to stick with anything, I have low expectations here. My goal is to do one month of walking. I'm not even committing myself to every day, just a couple times a week for a month. At that point I will assess my progress.
I make no promises as to what will come of that assessment. That is too much pressure. Just dealing with the day at hand is my real goal. And knowing myself it could be January before I remember to take my one month assessment (it's currently August). That's okay. In fact that is what I hope happens.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
New phone
I have a new phone! Yippee!
boo hissss
It took forever for this technology goddess to figure out how to save my contact list (nearly a bagillion) to the SIM card and then transfer it to the new phone. But I prevailed and I no longer have to contemplate bribing my twelve year old to enter each one for me.
And here is the cold hard truth - I am old. Until recently I was young and knowledgeable. I can hook up DVD players to the TV like nobody's business. My antique VCR shows the correct time, not the flashing 12:00 and I play video games. I use computers, surf the web, have a facebook page and know how to tweet. Give me a damn phone and suddenly I'm all thumbs, can't read the screen, hang up on callers and delete messages. I can't find half of the settings to customize it to my likes and needs. Sadly I'm going to have to appeal to one of my children.
I'm excited that it has bluetooth, not that I want to walk around with one of those ridiculous ear pieces like what's her name from Star Trek. This phone has a camera on it! Yeah, my old one was indeed very old, dinosaur almost! So I want to be able to take those cool camando pics and then load them on my computer. BUT HOW???? It took several hours for me to figure out how to discover the computer, or was it the phone? Hell I don't know. Now it says something about wrong file or something? I'm so confused.
I did manage to snap a pic of the giraff my youngest drew several years ago and it is now my wallpaper. Yay, small victory.
I believe this plan (it's through work) also includes texting. I'm a texting virgin. The few times I've had to type out something for a friend, it took forever and ended up very garbled. I'm scared.
boo hissss
It took forever for this technology goddess to figure out how to save my contact list (nearly a bagillion) to the SIM card and then transfer it to the new phone. But I prevailed and I no longer have to contemplate bribing my twelve year old to enter each one for me.
And here is the cold hard truth - I am old. Until recently I was young and knowledgeable. I can hook up DVD players to the TV like nobody's business. My antique VCR shows the correct time, not the flashing 12:00 and I play video games. I use computers, surf the web, have a facebook page and know how to tweet. Give me a damn phone and suddenly I'm all thumbs, can't read the screen, hang up on callers and delete messages. I can't find half of the settings to customize it to my likes and needs. Sadly I'm going to have to appeal to one of my children.
I'm excited that it has bluetooth, not that I want to walk around with one of those ridiculous ear pieces like what's her name from Star Trek. This phone has a camera on it! Yeah, my old one was indeed very old, dinosaur almost! So I want to be able to take those cool camando pics and then load them on my computer. BUT HOW???? It took several hours for me to figure out how to discover the computer, or was it the phone? Hell I don't know. Now it says something about wrong file or something? I'm so confused.
I did manage to snap a pic of the giraff my youngest drew several years ago and it is now my wallpaper. Yay, small victory.
I believe this plan (it's through work) also includes texting. I'm a texting virgin. The few times I've had to type out something for a friend, it took forever and ended up very garbled. I'm scared.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
No Cable
I live under a rock. There are whole conversations that I can never participate in because I don't have cable. (((SHOCK))) How the hell can I function without ever seeing Sex In the City, Sopranos or South Park? To be honest I do feel deprived. But somehow I manage to string my days together and survive just the same.
For the most part, the decision to live sans cable has been financial. My AOL subscription is about the only luxury I've allowed myself. But it's also because I'm such a TV junkie. I doubt if I had 24 hour access to the History Channel that I would ever pry my ass off the couch. I can see calling in sick to work because I just came off a Cooking Channel flan marathon and need some sleep. Eventually I would lose my job and get behind on my cable bill and then be in the same boat I am now with no cable, but also no job, and curled up in the corner, shaking from withdrawl, because I can't watch the lastest episode of some ghost buster show.
It's clearly in my best interests that I subsist on Free TV. Being hooked on Grey's Anatomy, Desparate Housewives, Medium, and Boston Legal consumes enough of my time as it is. Having Grey's bumped for the Oscars threw me into a tizzy. Last night I went on a rampage looking for a shadow box that I hadn't seen since I moved two years ago (I knew it made the move, I could not have left it at the old house!). Fortunately I found the shadowbox, but I also missed Medium. DAMMIT!
But all is not lost. Sex In The City, Sopranos, and South Park have come out on DVD. Us under-rock dwellers who have managed to come into possession of a DVD player can finally be let in on the secret. Albeit 5 years after the fact.
For the most part, the decision to live sans cable has been financial. My AOL subscription is about the only luxury I've allowed myself. But it's also because I'm such a TV junkie. I doubt if I had 24 hour access to the History Channel that I would ever pry my ass off the couch. I can see calling in sick to work because I just came off a Cooking Channel flan marathon and need some sleep. Eventually I would lose my job and get behind on my cable bill and then be in the same boat I am now with no cable, but also no job, and curled up in the corner, shaking from withdrawl, because I can't watch the lastest episode of some ghost buster show.
It's clearly in my best interests that I subsist on Free TV. Being hooked on Grey's Anatomy, Desparate Housewives, Medium, and Boston Legal consumes enough of my time as it is. Having Grey's bumped for the Oscars threw me into a tizzy. Last night I went on a rampage looking for a shadow box that I hadn't seen since I moved two years ago (I knew it made the move, I could not have left it at the old house!). Fortunately I found the shadowbox, but I also missed Medium. DAMMIT!
But all is not lost. Sex In The City, Sopranos, and South Park have come out on DVD. Us under-rock dwellers who have managed to come into possession of a DVD player can finally be let in on the secret. Albeit 5 years after the fact.
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