I’m going to begin by saying I’m fully prepared to embarrass myself in this post. But when balancing funny and embarrassing, funny usually wins out.
So I would consider myself a fairly impressionable person when it comes to certain things (I’m about a 5 on the jaded scale). If I admire someone, I follow by example most of the time. I’ll even start talking like them if I’m with them enough. And I can get sucked into stories, easily placing myself in roles – even when it comes to television. Characters can become so real to me.
About a year ago I initiated a very bad habit of watching DVDs on my portable, in my bed, right before bedtime. I started with seasons 1 and 2 of House, M.D. Great show. It became so much a part of my routine, and I got to know these characters so well and so quickly that I began to miss them when I was away. I fell in love with Dr. Chase a little bit. And I was so impressed by Dr. House’s genius and diagnostic abilities that I’m afraid if I were hospitalized at that time, and my real-life doctors were unable to figure out what was wrong with me I would demand to see Dr. House because he would go to the ends of the earth to discover my mystery illness. He wouldn’t give up on me. He would be mean to me, but he would save my life.
After I finished Season 2 of House, I suffered a little bit of separation anxiety but decided it was time to move on. So I began season 3 of The West Wing. I had already watched seasons 1 and 2 a couple times a couple years ago. I loved that show. In fact, that show is what drew me to Washington, D.C. a few years ago. I wanted to visit the White House and hang with the senior staff. Not our real-life senior staff. I wanted to hobnob with Martin Sheen, Rob Lowe and Allison Janney. They were cool. Of course they weren’t there.
Next came Felicity. I wasn’t sucked into this show as much as the others. But it did take me back to my college years. Not only because they were in college, but because I was in college when this show first came out. Memories flooded back to me and I remembered what finals week was like with all the stress and anxiety. So watching Feli every night became pretty regular. I was on an emotional roller coaster, hating Ben, loving Ben. I’ve since banned my portable DVD player from my bedtime routine.
Some shows I watch and I’m so taken with the protagonist and their exciting/glamorous life that I want to be like them. Take Alias for example. I wanted to be Sydney Bristow for years. Not really, but you know what I mean. She was so cool. She could speak dozens of languages, she was quick, smart, and she could scale buildings all over the world in all sorts of disguises. Being a spy looked so cool. AND Michael Vartan would do anything for her because he was hopelessly in love. I think I’ve seen seasons 1-3 of Alias at least twice. I know, it’s a wonder I get anything done. Somehow I manage.
Most of you know Lost is my favorite show, but Lost doesn’t have the same effect on me. It makes me happy and I get really excited about it, but I don’t place myself in their stories, nor do I think of them as my friends. Maybe because they’re all so messed up.
Here’s an embarrassing story: Right after college, a couple friends and I moved to Portland, Oregon. I don’t remember all the details of the story but we were talking about different places we would want to live. We discussed how it’s easier to move someplace if you know someone there. Someone mentioned they would like to move to D.C. sometime. Fortunately, I stopped myself but I ALMOST chimed in and said, “You know who just moved to D.C.? Julia.” Yeah, I was thinking of Julia Salinger on Party of Five. Her character made that announcement on the series finale I had recently watched.
My latest show is Veronica Mars. Veronica Mars is this totally awesome teenager who solves crimes. She’s way cooler than I ever was in high school, but I would like to think she would be my friend. We’d hang out at Neptune High, do our homework together and hop from caper to caper, bringing justice to criminals and helping the meek and unfortunate.
I watched about 4 episodes of V. Mars on Saturday afternoon. That night I went to dinner with some friends. Our waiter turned out to be a guy in our ward that we hadn’t seen in a long time. After he brought us our drinks we tried to figure out who his roommates were and where he had been. Because I just returned to reality from Neptune, California my first thought was to plant a bug on him when he took our order and then maybe solve the mystery by listening in on his conversations with other people.
I really can differentiate between television and reality – even if it is in the nick of time. Fortunately I do have a lot of real friends so I’m not that pathetic.
***change of topic***
At dinner Kristi and I reminisced about last year’s “perfect summer day”. It was so great. We went swimming at Jenn’s pool. We choreographed 8 counts of 4 of a synchronized swimming routine. And then we drove to the Burger Bar in Roy and sat out in the sun eating our hamburger and fries. Then we drove home, showered, went to Arctic Circle for a shake and then came back to my house and watched Les Mis in concert. It was the perfect summer day.
We talked about this upcoming summer. A bunch of us are getting Lagoon season passes. Maybe this year’s perfect summer day will be at Lagoon. A bunch of us will arrive in the early afternoon. We’ll ride the white roller coaster, the screamer; the samurai…things will be just peachy. But then maybe we’ll get in line for the jet star 2 and it will be shut down. Everyone will groan in disappointment but I’ll investigate. I’ll go up to the guy in the purple polo and ask him what’s up. He’ll be baffled and say “I don’t know, the ride just stopped” I’ll insist, “Rides don’t just stop, something must have gone wrong.” And then he’ll be all, “Go find another ride little girl” and then we’ll continue with snide remarks for a brief period before I decide it’s time to take matters into my own hands. I’ll visit the security office (I’ll happen to have a friend who works there). He’ll help me out by following the jet star 2 guy with close camera surveillance. In the meantime, I’ll be sifting through this guy’s outgoing text messages (I swiped his phone when he wasn’t looking). I’ll find a couple cryptic exchanges between him and some guy named Rocko. I’ll send a quick text back to Rocko telling him to meet me at the Terror Ride. Other strange things will occur, but long story short, my friends will take stations outside the Terror Ride entrance, we’ll surround this Rocko character, my security buddy will frisk him and he and jet star 2 guy will get busted for drug trafficking. Now that the mystery is solved, my friends and I will hit Pioneer Village for some ice cream cones, have our ride on the jet star 2 and it will be the perfect summer day.
So I would consider myself a fairly impressionable person when it comes to certain things (I’m about a 5 on the jaded scale). If I admire someone, I follow by example most of the time. I’ll even start talking like them if I’m with them enough. And I can get sucked into stories, easily placing myself in roles – even when it comes to television. Characters can become so real to me.
About a year ago I initiated a very bad habit of watching DVDs on my portable, in my bed, right before bedtime. I started with seasons 1 and 2 of House, M.D. Great show. It became so much a part of my routine, and I got to know these characters so well and so quickly that I began to miss them when I was away. I fell in love with Dr. Chase a little bit. And I was so impressed by Dr. House’s genius and diagnostic abilities that I’m afraid if I were hospitalized at that time, and my real-life doctors were unable to figure out what was wrong with me I would demand to see Dr. House because he would go to the ends of the earth to discover my mystery illness. He wouldn’t give up on me. He would be mean to me, but he would save my life.
After I finished Season 2 of House, I suffered a little bit of separation anxiety but decided it was time to move on. So I began season 3 of The West Wing. I had already watched seasons 1 and 2 a couple times a couple years ago. I loved that show. In fact, that show is what drew me to Washington, D.C. a few years ago. I wanted to visit the White House and hang with the senior staff. Not our real-life senior staff. I wanted to hobnob with Martin Sheen, Rob Lowe and Allison Janney. They were cool. Of course they weren’t there.
Next came Felicity. I wasn’t sucked into this show as much as the others. But it did take me back to my college years. Not only because they were in college, but because I was in college when this show first came out. Memories flooded back to me and I remembered what finals week was like with all the stress and anxiety. So watching Feli every night became pretty regular. I was on an emotional roller coaster, hating Ben, loving Ben. I’ve since banned my portable DVD player from my bedtime routine.
Some shows I watch and I’m so taken with the protagonist and their exciting/glamorous life that I want to be like them. Take Alias for example. I wanted to be Sydney Bristow for years. Not really, but you know what I mean. She was so cool. She could speak dozens of languages, she was quick, smart, and she could scale buildings all over the world in all sorts of disguises. Being a spy looked so cool. AND Michael Vartan would do anything for her because he was hopelessly in love. I think I’ve seen seasons 1-3 of Alias at least twice. I know, it’s a wonder I get anything done. Somehow I manage.Most of you know Lost is my favorite show, but Lost doesn’t have the same effect on me. It makes me happy and I get really excited about it, but I don’t place myself in their stories, nor do I think of them as my friends. Maybe because they’re all so messed up.
Here’s an embarrassing story: Right after college, a couple friends and I moved to Portland, Oregon. I don’t remember all the details of the story but we were talking about different places we would want to live. We discussed how it’s easier to move someplace if you know someone there. Someone mentioned they would like to move to D.C. sometime. Fortunately, I stopped myself but I ALMOST chimed in and said, “You know who just moved to D.C.? Julia.” Yeah, I was thinking of Julia Salinger on Party of Five. Her character made that announcement on the series finale I had recently watched.
My latest show is Veronica Mars. Veronica Mars is this totally awesome teenager who solves crimes. She’s way cooler than I ever was in high school, but I would like to think she would be my friend. We’d hang out at Neptune High, do our homework together and hop from caper to caper, bringing justice to criminals and helping the meek and unfortunate.I watched about 4 episodes of V. Mars on Saturday afternoon. That night I went to dinner with some friends. Our waiter turned out to be a guy in our ward that we hadn’t seen in a long time. After he brought us our drinks we tried to figure out who his roommates were and where he had been. Because I just returned to reality from Neptune, California my first thought was to plant a bug on him when he took our order and then maybe solve the mystery by listening in on his conversations with other people.
I really can differentiate between television and reality – even if it is in the nick of time. Fortunately I do have a lot of real friends so I’m not that pathetic.
***change of topic***
At dinner Kristi and I reminisced about last year’s “perfect summer day”. It was so great. We went swimming at Jenn’s pool. We choreographed 8 counts of 4 of a synchronized swimming routine. And then we drove to the Burger Bar in Roy and sat out in the sun eating our hamburger and fries. Then we drove home, showered, went to Arctic Circle for a shake and then came back to my house and watched Les Mis in concert. It was the perfect summer day.
We talked about this upcoming summer. A bunch of us are getting Lagoon season passes. Maybe this year’s perfect summer day will be at Lagoon. A bunch of us will arrive in the early afternoon. We’ll ride the white roller coaster, the screamer; the samurai…things will be just peachy. But then maybe we’ll get in line for the jet star 2 and it will be shut down. Everyone will groan in disappointment but I’ll investigate. I’ll go up to the guy in the purple polo and ask him what’s up. He’ll be baffled and say “I don’t know, the ride just stopped” I’ll insist, “Rides don’t just stop, something must have gone wrong.” And then he’ll be all, “Go find another ride little girl” and then we’ll continue with snide remarks for a brief period before I decide it’s time to take matters into my own hands. I’ll visit the security office (I’ll happen to have a friend who works there). He’ll help me out by following the jet star 2 guy with close camera surveillance. In the meantime, I’ll be sifting through this guy’s outgoing text messages (I swiped his phone when he wasn’t looking). I’ll find a couple cryptic exchanges between him and some guy named Rocko. I’ll send a quick text back to Rocko telling him to meet me at the Terror Ride. Other strange things will occur, but long story short, my friends will take stations outside the Terror Ride entrance, we’ll surround this Rocko character, my security buddy will frisk him and he and jet star 2 guy will get busted for drug trafficking. Now that the mystery is solved, my friends and I will hit Pioneer Village for some ice cream cones, have our ride on the jet star 2 and it will be the perfect summer day.
A couple Christmas ago I was riding in the backseat of my brother’s car on Dad’s Durham Family Christmas Lights Caravan tour. I squished between my two nieces in their car seats: 4 year-old Chloe on my right, 1 year-old Piper on my left.
Although I absolutely adore them all and life would not be complete without all three, I’m beginning to wonder if Chloe makes a valid argument.
