Monday, June 10, 2013

Talk Shows and Talking Shows

I don't watch a lot of tv. I don't mean that in the I'm-Better-Than-You way. I mean that I don't watch a lot of tv in real time. I Netflix/Hulu/Amazon everything because cable is expensive and babies aren't. Plus, I think I maxed out on every episode of SVU/Criminal Minds/NCIS in existence while struggling through depression a few years back, and there's only so much Food Network I can take before I start getting angry that I'm not wealthy with a sick kitchen and perfect makeup. So now that the only tv we are at the mercy of comes in basic channel form, I don't flip through very often. I have one hour of watching between putting the Bird to bed and going to bed myself, and that watching hour is usually accompanied by ice cream or wine or both in my face. I don't have any hands free to flip channels.

Sunday night, my husband was watching basketball, and I realized that I was missing the Tonys. Once the game was over before it was over (4th quarter and the Spurs just kind of said, "fuck it, let's try again tomorrow"), we decided to flip. Of course, the one channel we don't have with the digital antenna is CBS, so no Tony greatness for me. I'll have to YouTube/Netflix/Hulu/Amazon it. So be it.

What I did find, aside from awesomely bad episodes of the Bionic Woman (nananananananaaaaaa), was a stupid talk show I only see in cabs.*

*I have a cab problem. I'm much better lately because...poor...but trust that I have to work to not throw up my arm in the JAPpiest of JAP moves a JAP ever JAPped. I don't know where I get this from. I'm broke as hayall, and only my dad was Jewish and it was my mother who described camping as, "A Howard Johnson's if we have to." And WE were poor. I digress.

Talk Stoop is a brief show where some lady interviews a lot of very famous people on a stoop in New York. This, in and of itself, is fine. It's a three minute whatever while you get from point A to point B in your taxi ( know...a couple of times if you take that taxi to work BUT WHO DOES THAT, RIGHT? shit.), but here it was taking up actual tv time. It was on. I watched it. Woody Harrelson was talking about a play he wrote and is producing in New York. The interviewer, looking her quirky best with her dogs sleeping nearby and her Chucks in the shot with her sundress, proceeded to ask why he used unknown actors and what he has "against famous people." Gross.

Later, she gives him a present for his birthday right after describing him as "the guy who talks about hemp all the time" and he opens the bag to discover a terrarium. Ok. Sure. Whatever talk show hosts give famous people on steps in New York while cameras roll on their birthdays. I don't know these things. He asks how he takes care of it, and she guesses watering it. And then pours coffee cup water into the narrow glass vase. My sister makes terrariums - kick ass Star Wars ones to boot - so I winced when this happened.

See, none of this matters, and I truly don't care. But after a long weekend of singing, playing, walking with a baby, hurting (my body is falling right the fuck apart, in case you're keeping tabs), giggling, baby loving, working, and breathing (in AND out...exhausting), I want to unwind. I was shoving unspeakably bad food into my face because lazy and didn't change the channel. So instead of unwinding watching the Tonys and getting choked up and proud of Chicago's storefront scene, I watched a perky woman present a celebrity with a gift and take a big dump in it, essentially.

Did I also mention that my weekend included having my stomach fat pinched by someone I hadn't seen in a while when I dared to leave the house without SPANX? It did.

Also, why is there no GrubHub for wine delivery?

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