October 29th, 2010
There is something not quite right about me. Now, I’m not talking about the fact that I am older than six years old and I still wear shirts with kitties on them. Nor am I referring to the habit I have of making up songs to sing to the pooch (Although I must admit, the one about the bone-bone is pretty catchy). Or the fact that, on occasion, a handful of Cheetos sounds like the biznomb. Or the fact that I just wrote biznomb in my post today. Hmm….yeah, all of those habits are not quite right, but I was actually referring to my obsession with television shows. I have a compulsive need to finish entire seasons (series, even) as fast as possible. True, I am the type of a person who reads the last page of a mystery, then reads the rest of the book; so I am sure the desire to know what happens propels my compulsive TV habits. But I also just love stories—of all kinds– and I enjoy following interesting characters on their adventures. And isn’t television just the perfect medium for this?