Turn it UP!

Can I come watch TV at your house? Please? I promise, I won't talk. I won't ask for the remote. I just want to watch the TV with some normal people.

I don't think it's necessary to comment on every sentence spoken in a sitcom. I don't think the "information" that Fox News spouts is generally important enough to be commented on. The fifteenth time I see a funny commerical - guess what? Not Funny Anymore. At least, not funny enough to comment on.

My mom talks through every f'ing TV show that comes on. Nothing is not worthy of some comment, which leads to a story, which means that I miss what ever show I was trying to watch. And even if you smile, nod, make a "hmm? Really?" sort of comment, and then pointedly stare at the TV, she keeps going. She is completely unphased.

I don't even really care about the TV. I don't really like to watch it all the time, I feel like a slug when I get stuck in front of it for hours, especially if Allen has the remote. Then I feel like I'm watching him watch TV, because I can't watch more than one show at a time, and he can't watch less than 3. I think I just watch it as a barrier - like, maybe if I watch TV I will look sufficiently busy and people will leave me alone. It doesn't work, but I think I can get away with not being terribly attentive if I have the TV as an excuse. Reading a book certainly doesn't work, and besides, I have a million knitting projects I want to get to before Christmas rolls around.

This morning, Mom took exception with the comments of a stylist on the Today show. He said women of a "certain age" should get shorter cuts and have 'side-swept' bangs to keep their hair out of their faces. Mom thought that this was ridiculous, because she tries to hide her face with her hair. I was so aggravated - I mean, it's one thing to have that feeling yourself, I told her, because you have self-esteem issues, but not everyone does. Some people LIKE it when other people can see their face. Then I went to work. I'm sure she's pissed at me now, but whatever. I understand that she has issues, but she's the one who acts like no one else understands what she's going through - so why is she so shocked when some people are actually ok? I don't get it.

On the plus side, even though I would rather have my eye lashes ripped out one by one, I have another wedding to go to this weekend. We're not seated at the same table as our friends from out of town, oh no - we're with my old roommates from RI that I haven't talked to in months. This should be REALLY comfortable. I am looking forward to being a pissy, drunk bitch the entire time. No, not really. I will behave, for Allen's sake.

God, I am whiney and spoiled today.