November 2008


Who cares?  We bought a house yesterday.

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The lawyer’s office had a display of dinosaurs and a giant bowl of candy.  It was our dream wedding and loan closing all in one!

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As a non-cable TV person, I watch most shows on DVD months to years after everyone else has enjoyed them firsthand — most recently with “the Sopranos,” “The Wire,” and the first season of “Mad Men.”  If I want to discuss the shows, my friends have moved on and can’t tell Peggy from Snoop.  Instead, I have to create a dialogue with the internet (say, searching for “what’s the deal with Joan’s hair?”) and seeing what online articles I can find.  That usually leads to a few spoilers for upcoming seasons.  For instance, while reading up on “Mad Men,” I found out that the Sixties end up being a huge bummer.

I’m dissatisfied with some aspects of “Mad Men,” either with how it potrays society at that time, or because I don’t have the means to get my hair styled every week and that makes me grumpy.joan

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A few years ago I went to visit my family on a Saturday afternoon.  When I got there everyone (cousins/aunts, at least one sibling and parent) was watching “Police Academy” on Comedy Central.  I remember thinking “at least it doesn’t matter, it’s not like they’re a Nielsen family.”  It turned out that they were that week.

Now it’s our turn!  What I think/do FINALLY matters.  For one week, starting Thursday, Richard and I basically are the most powerful people on earth with our little Nielson Media diaries.  The non-cable TV watchers are a dying breed, but I’m glad to represent.   It’ll be officially documented that I watch “Wheel of Fortune” a lot.  Take that, “Two and a Half Men,” WE ARE NOT WATCHING YOU.  If I can reduce that show’s reruns by even the tiniest fraction, I’d feel as if I have done my job as an American.

Plus, we got $30 for our efforts.

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I think Ben Franklin said it best: “Life is what happens while you’re waiting for ‘Quantum of Solace’ to be released.”

I used to be a bank teller, and the day after the last presidential election, after our management’s unprofessional victory laps behind the teller line, I cried at my window.  The woman who I was waiting on at the time held my hand.  The gesture and talking to her encouraged me to volunteer for efforts that I believed in (it only lasted about a year, but still).  I left that job position a few months later, but I always remembered her because she was nice and wore ridiculous hats, and we shared a disappointment together.  Let’s hope that tomorrow at work I only cry in physical or emotional, non-political pain.