My Stories

A couple of years ago, my favorite soap was cancelled.  I watched Guiding Light religiously.  I mean RELIGIOUSLY.  It was a sad, sad day when it ended.

Now One Life to Live and All My Children are going, too.  I watch OLTL every once in a while.  It is so frustrating to me that a whole genre of television is disappearing.  And to be replaced with what?  The Chew and The Revolution.  More reality tv.  Fantastic.

I'm kind of over the whole reality thing.  Sure, I watched my share or Big Brother and I LUVED Laguna Beach and The Hills.  But I'm pretty much over it.  Give me some good 'ole fiction, escapism any day of the week.  Or every Monday through Friday, as the case may be.

Oh, and The Chew is supposed to be similar to The View.  Wow.  How original. 

I don't care if the same story is rehashed several times.  I don't mind suspending my disbelief and seeing someone come back on the canvas after I watched them die on screen.  And I certainly don't mind the abundance of hot guys that flood my television screen.

I don't want reality.  I want to live in a fantasy world sometimes.  Every once in a while it feels good to curl up on the couch with a glass of wine and watch my stories. 

Oh well.  Here's hoping that The Young & The Restless and General Hospital stick around a while longer.

A Realization

I've been unhappy in my job for a while now.  Switching properties only made it worse.  A couple of days ago I realized that I was just making things harder on myself. 

I got frustrated very easily.  Mostly with coworkers who have no clue what they are doing.  I'm tired of cleaning up messes that others are making.  I don't want to be in this field.  I'm tired of being exhausted when I wake up in the morning because I begin my day so early, stay on the road about 3 hours a day, and then get home just in time to put my baby to bed and get in bed myself.

It is tiring.  But it is no one's fault.  And blaming everyone else, no matter how incompetent they seem to be, wasn't helping.  It was making things worse.

So I've resolved to try and make the best of it.  It won't change the mind-numbing monotony of my day.  And it won't make the questions that literally pain me any less tedious.  But maybe it will help me to not feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin every day.  Maybe I won't fly into a murderous rage when someone cuts me off on the interstate- well, I will probably do that anyway.

But you know what else?  I actually found that I kind of like the coworker who was driving me bat shit crazy.  She really is nice and she is trying to learn.  Maybe I should just get over myself and try to turn this situation around.

The Red Carpet

I didn't finish watching the Oscars last night, due to my ridiculously early bed time.  Hey, a girl has to get her beauty sleep right?  And with the insane hour that I have to get up in the morning, and no guarantee of good sleep, I have to get in bed as early as I can.  Anyway, I didn't finish watching the Oscars.  Yet.

So I had this thought as I was drifting off to sleep.  I had been sitting on the couch watching, and stating my opinion of the fashion on Twitter... why?  What the hell is the big deal?

I love fashion.  I love shoes.  There are no limits as to how much I love shoes, my dears.  But why do we constantly feel the need to digest every fraction of these celebrities in their Chanel and Marchesa and Choos?

Well, I guess that wasn't the exact thought.  More, it was about the people themselves.  Is it the money?  Of course, they can afford or borrow everything they are wearing as they strut down that red carpet.  But why do we tune in to watch them smile and congratulate each other on doing such a great job? 

'Hey, Natalie!  Fantastic job playing that ballerina in Black Swan.  You were amazing and took home an Oscar and a ton of cash.  Smashing!  But did you see that Variance Report that I turned in last Friday?  I rocked that bitch.'

I don't feel like I'm accurately stating my point.  And I may not really be able to.  What makes them so damn special?  I mean, there are plenty of companies that pay their employees generously.  Those employees can probably afford to step out to the company Christmas Gala in Ellie Saab or Tom Ford, but you don't see the paparazzi there capturing each step, or misstep, along the way.

I guess what it boils down to is the age old conundrum of celebrity.  Why them?  Why the need to watch and emulate?  What makes them any better than plain Jane sitting behind a computer screen pondering the meaning of it all? 

Must be the money.  Or the shoes.

Wow I sound really jealous.  Is jealous the right word I'm looking for?  Actually, I'm just more curious.  Although it would be pretty awesome to hit a red carpet- and a few after parties.  Ha!