Britizh TV

Since one of our local PBS stations have gone strictly British, I find myself watching no network TV.  Instead I switch on WETA UK (447 for those local with verizon) or BBC America and only if there is nothing of interest do I go to other cable channels.

So I was wondering why I like british Tv so much and here is what I cam up with.

Dr. Who... well of course, who wouldn't like zipping around multiple universes and times in a blue box that is bigger on the inside.  The 10th Doctor however will always be my favorite.

British mysteries where people die and sometimes horribly but you don't actually SEE it.  My favorites are Old Dogs, Vera, Murder in Paradise and Poriot (sp?).

OLd people.  British Tv has no qualms about having shows with old people, which in America it seems that old on Tv happens at the age of 40 while the British let their wrinkles show and don't give a fig about them.

Large people.... yep you can be large on British TV and no one makes a crack about it.

The not so attractive people... Nope you don't have to be beautiful to be on British TV, youjust have to be talented

And plain old talent that it not pigeonholed into a single genre.  For instance a woman who shows up on Dr. who pops up in a comedy, a period piece and a mystery.  The guy with the go funny eye shows up in dramas etc. 

Oh I almost forgot that british accent, though I must admit the scottish accents take a bit of listening but who else but the British could say fart Fah- t and make it sound classy?  Not that the British do actually fart... sorry fah-t.

I even like the British Antiques Roadshow that once had a presenter who looked like a pug.  Really.  On America's Antiques Roadshow a person goes crazy if something is appraised at a couple thousand or more.  On the british version a painting is worth 250,000 pouds and the owner blinks once and simply murmurs 'Brilliant"

Oh and 'Brilliant"  Imagine saying Brilliant instead of Good or that's nice.  Brilliant conjures fireworks and ticker tapes and parties.

So there you go, me and my British TV.

Not Nice

I often find myself being a not so nice person and do you know what?  I really don't care.

Being nice hasn't gotten me anywhere.  Niceness is rarely reciprocated and I am tired of smiling and turning the other cheek.  The cheek left facing the world is really starting to sting.

For instance....

There is this Mommy Blogger I used to follow.  I found her funny and her daughter, then daughters delightful but then Mommy Blooger got too big for her britches flying off here and there, running marathons, going to Africa, rubbing shoulders and hob nobbing with the slightly famous.  Frankly it got boring, her telling us she was going to appear on this show and that.  Who cares really.  The people she was telling on her blog were already reading her so why did we have to know she was out there trolling for more.

Ok.  all of that I could put up with but then SHE BOUGHT A HOUSE.  Not a house, a mansion with god knows how many rooms.  A house so big they all had to carry cell phones so they could locate each other.  By this time she and her husband both were only blogging for a living and, while they were popular then, I wondered how long would it last.  People eventually grow tired of things, then where would professional bloggers be?  I thought it was stupid to take on so much house but I wasn't paying the mortgage and so what.

But then she began to furnish the house and we were treated to what seemed like photos of every single thing going into that house; from rugs to baby furniture to dog beds.  It was like she was shoving all of this into our faces.  yes, I might have been a little jealous living in a small run down home that hadn't seen a new whatever in ages.  Then my house burned, had to be rebuilt and hopefully I wasn't smearing my new stuff onto everyone's faces.  I hope not.  I would hope that my new sofa aka the Big Brown Turd did not rouse jealousy in anyone.  Though I suspect the fairy door might.

So I stopped reading Mommy Blogger and , bored, I looked at her blog yesterday.

She had to sell the mansion.  I guess that's what happens when you throw your husband out.  The one that was paying half the bills.  She had to sell the mansion and I was happy.  Yes, I know, shame on me, but I was happy she was thrown off that high horse of hers.  It's a bit of a pay back for having to wade through the look at my kincknacks see how they reflect the light and look at all this stuff we got for free phases of her life. 

No.  I do not wish to make a living with my writing.

I can really understand how excited someone is with a trip or a new house but really, post after post, facebook after facebook.  OK, we get it already.  You have this hoo haa house or are on this splenderifidous trip and it's good for you but what about people who might not have so much?  (I'm not talking about myself here)  Federal government employees are forced  to lose a day's pay each week.  Unemployment is, or has run out for many.  People can't find jobs, feed their kids and are in danger of losing their homes. Is it any wonder that I'm happy Mommy Blogger had to down size?

So I'm not nice.  So there.  So not nice that I am going to throw my latest purchase in everyone's face.
Ready?  eight cans of catfood and a pack of rawhide chews for the dogs.  Look at me.  woo hoo.

Now What am I Going to DO?

I've stopped crafting.  I don't know if it's for now or forever.  All I do know is that it took me ages to do something rather simple and it looked like crap when I was finished with it.  I just can't craft decently since the fire and so I give up.  Fire won.

So there I sit in the craft room at the table watching TV not knowing what to do with myself.  Can't watch TV in the living room because Michael has claimed that and the rocker which leaves me with the turd colored sofa unless Charlie and Kali are spread all across it.  I have no seat in the living room so into the craft room I go.  Yes, I know... MIchael has a TV in his room and he could watch it in there but the few times I have sat in his chair, some remark was made and I was booted out of it.  Truthfully I don't much like the living room.  I HATE HATE HATE that sofa that we had to buy for Michael to get that damned recliner.  We have very little furniture in it and it feels king of sterile.  I have only one TV... hey I don't rate a tray table, I'm certainly not going tor ate two tvs!

So there I sit with my hands in my lap watching tv.  Sigh.  It is pretty sad if you think about it and lately I have... been thinking about it I mean.  All in all my life has been pretty sad and by now you'd think I'd have gotten used to it.  There is one great consolation... I'm 61... I certainly can't expect to be around forever and I am anxious to cross that rainbow bridge... I have some dogs and cats and hopefully pigs waiting for me.  Now THAT is heavenly.