Reality TV

I have a 8-5 job five days a week.  When I get home on the evenings I potter about taking care of my cats and cooking my husband dinner.  I tend to spend most of my time on the computer, checking out my favorite sites and following stuff on twitter.  TV for the most part is MSNBC checking out the latest in politics.  Then comes the weekend and I turn into a reality tv junky.
On Saturday morning I wake early, as usual, and shuffle out to the living room in my “do not meddle in the affairs of dragons for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup” t-shirt and settle myself into the recliner for a love fest of reality tv on demand, where I can fast forward all of the annoying ads that get in the way.  With my bucket sized cup of hot tea I turn first to Storage Wars which I find fascinating.  Despite having my illusions shattered by tales of the show being rigged by the producers “seeding” the storage units with unique finds, I still love it.  When my husband and I were first furnishing our house we turned to storage auctions for many of our items, and in fact our first tv unit that we bought from a storage auction now sits in our garage and serves as a storage area for the lawn mower gas cans.

From Storage Wars I turn next to “Chasing UFOs”  another subject with which I am fascinated.  While I find it strange and silly that the “investigators” insist on going out into wildlife infested jungles in the middle of the night and then are shocked, shocked I tell you that they encounter large amounts of wild life I am non the less fascinated by their antics, despite the fact that they invariably fail to find anything.

My next show is “Destination Truth” which has Ryder from “Chasing UFOs” as a member of its team.  Yet again these investigative teams appear to insist on doing everything by “going green” and doing everything under the cover of darkness, and going into jungles and caves when any right minded person would thing that getting evidence under the bright light of day would be preferable.

Jack Osborne’s show “Haunted Highway” is my next stop, right now Jack is on hiatus, having been diagnosed with MS, so his other team, also a part of “Fact or Fiction” are on the case.  I have to say that their most recent foray, the “Silver City” investigation where Jayel got trapped in the “isolation room” was truly scarey.   The “Fact or Fiction” crew are hilariously funny thanks to their “bug across the camera lens test in 3, 2, 1….. ” seriously, we do not need a count down for you to take a picture, it is fairly obvious when you are going to hit the shutter button.

“Haunted Collector” is a particular favorite seeing as for the most part, the owner of the home, or the manager of the haunted place tells the “investigators” of the thing prior to them even doing their investigation, it seems that it always ends up that the “thing” that the person had pointed out turns out to be the “thing” that was causing the problems.  I mean seriously who finds a gold tooth on a lake’s beach and brings it into their house and then cannot figure out why there is strange activity?

Once I have gone through all of the above shows I am then lost for entertainment, that is when I find myself turning to “Craft Wars” the most horrible premise for a show that I think I have ever seen, yet I cannot look away.  While I fast forward through most of the show, seeing I do not really need to know why someone thinks that hot gluing popsicle sticks to a bird house has vision, I am still fascinated by the judges reasoning, and the fact that someone wins $10,000.00.  What can I say, my Saturday morning is mine and no one will take it from me.

I LOVE these shows, I love them because it allows me to turn my mind off on a Saturday morning and totally lose myself in silliness.  I have one of those brains that never turns itself off, I am always thinking about something that has to be done at work, or a particular problem that I need to solve, or an issue I need to deal with.  On a Saturday morning I can turn on the “on demand” channel and completely immerse myself with inanity and turn off my brain.  That is a good thing I think.



It rained all weekend

Which was appropriate in a way, tears raining down on the roof of an empty house, a house no longer full of the sounds of a rambunctious dog lording it over his kingdom.  There is something heart wrenching about opening the door to a home and not being greeted by the wiggly butt of a dog.  Yes, the cats are still there and begging me for treats as I walk in the door, but there is nothing like a wiggly butt, albeit sans tail, slobbering jaws begging for kisses and scritches.

So many things change when you no longer have a dog in your life.  You can eat a meal in peace for instance, which, if I am to be honest, is really quite boring.  You can no longer stop eating that slice of pizza when you are no longer hungry knowing that it will find a willing mouth after you are done with it.   (And please I have no desire to have a discussion about feeding dogs leftovers, it is something I have always done and I will not apologize for it).  Cueball expected at least some of my meal, even if it was just a few beans and a crust from a slice of toast, if I never left him anything he would look at me hurt.

When I wake in the morning my first thought is not getting up and letting him out into the garden, now I can lay in bed and worry more about which channel to surf through, rather than chirp merrily “you want to go out big boy?”.  It sucks.

The cats now have a full run over the house, which of course they never did when Cueball was around. The living room area, particularly that area near the birds Harmony and Melody was completely off limits for the cats, now they can wander over their without a problem,  the birds having lost their bodyguard.  The cats now lounge all over the floor, anywhere they want, without ever having to be worried about being trampled by Cueball’s huge feet, and as they seem to have no fear of my feet, I am constantly having to step over them.

Cueball’s “nest” which was a storage box with a cushion and a blanket over it has now been claimed by Ellie Wyatt, and it is strange to see a tiny cat now occupying the same space once occupied by a huge 90lb force of nature that pretty much destroyed everything he came into contact with.

I am sure he misses his presence in the house, as do we all.   It is quiet, and I don’t like it.


And then he was gone

Cueball went to the Rainbow Bridge today.  He had not been the same since Judy died, and to be honest I think he just missed her.    He was lonely without her and yet getting him a companion would not have been possible thanks to his dominant personality.   He had been under the weather for a couple of days but yesterday he appeared to be improving and ate heartily.  Today however I came home and found him dead on the living room floor.  It appears that he had simply gone to sleep in his favorite spot by the coffee table and passed away.

The house is strangely quiet now, the cats are acting up of course, as they always do, but there is no familiar click of Cueball’s toenails tapping about the living room as he wanders around herding them, no snoring as he sleeps, no baritone barks as someone walks in front of the yard.

There is a huge hole where he used to be.  For the first time in 20 years there is no dog in our home and I am bereft.    He was such a huge part of our life, a constant companion and protector.  On the many nights that my husband had to be away from the house I always felt safe knowing he was there, a constant guardian, a constant bodyguard.  He would love nothing more than sliding down beside me or my husband on the recliner and watching television with one of us.

I suppose if I remember anything of him I will remember that

Now of course he will be reunited with his beloved Judy and I imagine that as he barrels across the bridge to meet her the reunion will look something like this.

With Judy saying “pinned you again”.    Goodnight my precious boy, give my love to Judy, and let her know that I loved her just as much as I loved you.  I will never forget your impact on my life.   I will never forget how much you meant to me.

Texting while driving

To be honest with you I have never embraced texting.  I am a typist by profession.  I live for a standard querty uiop keyboard, whether it is on a typewriter or a computer.  The very IDEA of using my thumbs to stamp out an inane messages on a phone while a quick call to the person I am trying to communicate with would take half the time is simply insane.

There is this cautionary tale then.
A man texts about the need to stop texting before he drives off a cliff.  Think about that for a moment, he actually knows that texting could get him killed, and he is doing it anyway, while driving off a cliff.

Let’s face it, the majority of cell phone calls and text messages are not “oh my god the house is burning down send help”, or “fax that contract to the office in New York before 5 pm or we lose the deal”.  No the majority of cell phone conversations go like this



“what cha doin,”

“nuthin, what you doin”

“I’m at the grocery store, what you doin”

“watching tv, what you doin?”

Ad infinitum.

That is it, that is what the majority of cell phone calls and texts are about.  I was at a brilliant Duran Duran concert several years ago I was standing on the chair dancing to the brilliant music while a teenager with her parents next to me spent the entire time texting people on her phone.  I can just imagine the conversation.

“what cha doin”

“at duran duran concert with parents, lame”

“how is the music”

“dunno, not listening, texting”

So texting is willing to drive your vehicle off a cliff for.   Other than the fact that my house is burning down or one of my animals is in danger there is nothing that I could text that could be worth that kind of sacrifice.  Yet another example that humans, as a race, have outlived their usefulness.