Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Let's Go To The Couch!


No, not the therapist's couch. The good kind of couch. The TV couch.

A quagmire is something you can't get out of, right? Then I find myself in a couchmire. Mired in couch. And for the first time in my life, I don't want to watch TV anymore. I've watched so much TV in the past week that I'm saturated. This is truly depressing because I love TV more than anything. Once, in this illustrious online forum, I said that I'd like to marry going to the movies. Well, I cheated on the movies with watching TV and and married watching TV
and now we're getting divorced. Don't worry girl, you know I didn't sign a pre- nup. I'm getting HALF of everything that TV earned aka what's rightfully mine aka MY DUE! See what I mean? It's time for an intervention.

Oh, it started out dignified, the way courtships do. I began with the serious HBO dramas: Season 4 of Big Love, a few Boardwalk Empires (sucks, wicked boring), then re- watched AMC favorites Breaking Bad and Mad Men,
then before I could say "Mazel" I'd gone through two season marathons of TWO Real Housewives casts! That's the thing about year- end programming, what with all the marathons and the back to back episodes resulting in bed sores and muscle atrophy from a vegetable torpor of my own creation. Disgusting.

When I found myself crying during Bethenny Frankel and Jason Hoppy's televised wedding ceremony on the eponymous episode of Bethenny Getting Married? yesterday morning, I knew I had to call it quits with TV, at least for a few days.
I even turned off TaxiTV, which I do enjoy, in the back of a cab last night. Art reflects life, as I'm really into abusive relationships. My M.O is to be like, "Ha! I'll show you what life is like without Paloma Zenaida!" and then I call in a few days when he hasn't called me and I just slink back and pretend the whole unsavory affair never took place.

My relationship with TV also mirrors my real- life relationships (wait, I thought TV was my real life relationship. This is getting too meta) in that it's masochistic. I don't have cable, just a big boxy set with a DVD drive that rarely gets used because I'd rather watch free episodes on Hulu cuddled up with my laptop in bed. After exhausting the choice free shows on Hulu, like my beloved Housewives and the sole episode of The Fashion Show with dueling drag queens Iman and Isaac Mizrahi, I scan through the shabbier options and sometimes stumble upon a gem. Like SoapNET's Real Southern Belles of Lousiville. It's like a really really boring episode of the Hills with older, less gamine, stouter protagonists. Their molasses- like
accents and uptake lull me into a hypnotic trance that leaves me wanting to shop at Kohl's and set my hair in rollers and eat foods made with Crisco. But that could be said for a number of things.
As it stands now, I get basically nothing worthwhile done. I've taken procrastination via napping and cleaning to a kind of performance art. Sometimes when I'm supposed to be "writing" I just lay down on the cold hardwood floor and stare up at the ceiling and replay sassy maxims from Real Housewives of Beverly Hills in my head.

"Some may think I have it all, but I want more." -Taylor
If TimeWarner were to bestow upon me the ultimate gift of friendship (because the people on TV are my friends, and I'm not just talking about Rachel and Ross and Chandler), then I would really get nothing done. And besides, not having a TV actually enhances my social life. I invite myself over to my more upwardly mobile friends' apartments and demand to be taught how to operate their remote control, and then languish for a few hours catching up on Jersey Shore and Millionaire Matchmaker. This dependency has actually preserved, maybe even fomented, many friendships because my friends don't have to talk to me. They just step over me like a bag
of old clothes they've been meaning to take to Beacon's Closet. And if I've deemed this friend worthy enough to grace them with a return visit of moi I'll even reset their DVR to my programs. That's right, I have my programs.

One program I simply adore is AMC's Rubicon. It's a really spooky show about all the things I like: spying, subterfuge, terrorism (oh come on, I don't mean like it like it) and conspiracy. And the even weirder thing about it is the leading man of the show looks just like that closet case teacher on Glee and both their character's names are Will. They should do some synergistic cross marketing for the two shows and have Rubicon Will sing a show tune about oil wars in
Nigeria.

If Columbia offered an MFA in TV, I'd be teaching it. Except I don't love talking about TV, I love watching it. I'd teach all my classes from a bean bag chair wearing a Snuggie and bring snacks to every class and all the students would love me. Maybe they could be my new TV friends. Literally. Figuratively. Who am I kidding? It would be an online course.


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