i'm booking mine

How sad is it that my current favorite tv show is a past season of Tudors? I’m watching one a day (while walking my chubby butt on the treadmill) so that I can catch up and actually watch it in season. It is kind of nice to kill 50 minutes of sweat with my attention fixed elsewhere. And even though I know how the story goes, I find myself trying to tell stupid Anne Bolyn that she should really lighten up or Henry is going to cut her head off. Ah yes, nothing like a good story to take me away. The problem with watching anything like this is simple; whatever will I do when I’m out of episodes? I’ve seen all of Battlestar Galactica (which I loved, except for the ‘Starbuck wanders the universe’ season, and, of course, the stupid ending.) So now I’m trying to like Galactica. Really trying. It’s a prequel to the Battlestar series that has a promising premise. Pete and I have decided that the problem is that we don’t really like the characters (he actively dislikes the mom – a lot, it’s kind of fun to watch him be bitchy about her.) So there’s that – and we’ve been watching Parenthood (I like Lauren Graham – I want Gilmore Girls back please?) but again, it’s another show that we’re working to like. All of the parents are fairly stupid (though I did appreciate that the teenage daughter’s room had clutter on the floor in the last episode – thank you whoever threw in that little bit of realism) but the story lines just kind of plod through the hour. I want a show that sucks me in. Like True Blood. It’s so good it doesn’t even bother me that I should be embarrassed to watch it. I love it. The whole thing is total trash (so were the books, but they’re great fun too!) but it's totally absorbing. Maybe that’s what I’ll do, save the few quality programs that I can watch on demand for the treadmill and sit through whatever is on in the evening in my normal pose. I sit in my chair, television on in front of me, my attention all given to the book I’m holding. Yep, that’s it. Forget tv. Long live the book. And I’m talking a real book. You know, with pages instead of the cool ‘page turning feature.’ One of the high points of my week has been that I found out if I rush home at noon, wolf down a pb&j and rush out, I have time to visit the library and grab a book (or two!) on my lunch hour. This is first an indication of how slow my week has been, and second, a hint as to how much I love to sneak away from life for a few minutes to peruse the array of titles on the new book rack, see what publishers thought was worthy of print (and my time) this week. So maybe it’s not so sad that tv, even with hundreds of recorded shows, is a such vast wasteland. I’ll just book my next getaway, or getaway with my next book.