Reality TV...

...for some reason it gets me all the time. I don't usually watch it the first time it shows. I'm not one of those people who is in to the latest and greatest reality tv show. But for some reason, the weekend comes...and I get sucked in. It's like a vaccuum that I just can't stay out of.

I was flipping through the channels today (to avoid doing things that would be a more productive use of my time) and I came across Project Runway. I figured I could watch that for an hour and then, move on. Well, it is now 2 1/2 hours later, and I'm still watching it! This happened to me last season too. Caught a marathon of episodes one day, and had to watch the rest of the season.

Last year I spent an entire Saturday glued to the tv. It started innocently enough. Flipping through the channels, landed on America's Next Top Model. Turns out it was the entire season! Had a friend call me up right as the last episode came on. I probably was not the best conversationalist at the time, but I had so much involved at that point. It really mattered to me who won and who didn't.

It's a sickness. I admit that. I just have a very addictive personality. Now I'm going to have to start watching this show weekly! Curses!

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Either time heals all wounds or depression is a great way to get over past...events. takes all your energy to get through the day to day things that you have no energy left for anything else.

What Would They Say?

Today at work, a coworker as my other office mate and I, "what would your friends say at your funeral?"

Interesting question. I gave it some thought. I honestly don't know. I know one friend has said that I'm loyal (to the point of insanity ~ that's a good thing,...right??) But other than that, I really don't know. Depending on the circumstances of my death, one person might say that I was psychic. Told her a couple times how I thought I would die. One was dying in a horrible car crash caused by a wasp in my car that of course didn't attack until I was driving on the highway and then I freaked out trying to get away from the wasp but when you're trapped in a car it's kind of hard to find someplace to go so I'm stuck and not watching the road and then....well....you know. Another option was falling down the stairs landing in a broken heap unable to move and no one being able to find me for days. Although, that scenario was based on my freakishly steep stairs at my apartment in the Boro (like the Shire, but taller). There were a couple of close calls. And had I actually fallen, no one would really be able to help me because I would have blocked the door in. Really a horrible way to go. But as I no longer live in the Boro apartment, guess it's not much of a concern.

Lately I've kind of been thinking a lot about my life. I'm in the process of making a "Life-Altering" decision. Well, to be perfectly honest, I think the decision has already been made, I'm just working on the confidence to follow through, and hoping for a sense that this is what I'm supposed to do. But earlier I was thinking about my place in the world and my various journeys. The question brought up at work, added to my other thoughts, made me wonder if the world would be any different if I weren't here. And of course the answer is yes, it would be different, but would it be a good different or bad different.

Many years ago I ended up moving to Texas. I coerced one sister into moving down there. Then a couple years later I left to head back up north. A year or two later another of my sisters (the baby sister) moved down to Texas to live with the other sister. Now, all in all, this seems to have been a positive thing for the baby sister (who while being the baby sis is still over 20), but if I hadn't of been around during her formative years I wonder if she would....have gone down a different/better path in life. Now I honestly don't know the answer to that question. I kind of think that my moving was the catalyst to get her down there, or at least paid a part in the grand scheme. But she is an awful lot like her paternal aunt, well, actually she has a lot of the genes from that side of the family. Which leads back to the whole nature vs. nurture debate.

(Though, in my mind it's not much of a debate. I believe the answer lies somewhere in the middle. I grew up in the same house as 3 of my siblings, and we are pretty different. Actually if people didn't know us, they would probably never guess we were related....well, until they saw us all together; we interact like siblings. And somehow I ended up being scarily like my dad in some respects, and we don't share any of the same genes.)

Anyway....what would your friends say at your funeral?