Archive for the ‘Television’ Category
It’s true. I’m addicted to American Idol. I kinda knew this to be the case from when I started TiVo-ing the show, but the real kicker came last night. I bought Blake Lewis’ album. And I love it.
And in other American Idol news, America got it wrong! I was very sorry to see Danny go. I didn’t really like seeing Asia’h go either, but at least Kristy has redeeming qualities. But Chikezie? Seriously? *sigh*
Does anyone besides Mike and I actually watch Burn Notice on USA? It’s one of their summer shows, on after Psych. Of course, probably no one watches that either. You should, you know. If you like dramadies and watching TV in the summer that isn’t the Red Sox making you want to throw the remote at the TV. Even if you don’t watch Burn Notice, I think this can be a fun activity for everyone.
A brief overview for non-Burn-Notice-watchers: The show is about a spy who gets burned, meaning he’s black-listed and not allowed to spy anymore. The people who burned him dumped him in Miami, where his mother, brother, ex-girlfriend, and best friend live and help him with various good-will activities such as saving a neighborhood from the influx of a new-age mafia. He spends his time making bombs and espionage devices out of cellphones and other random things while helping people and trying to find out who burned him so he can go back to being a real spy.
Mike and I were watching the season finale off of the TiVo last night. (If you happen to have it waiting on your TiVo, you can rest assured that this is not going to be any kind of spoiler.) Much of the beginning of the episode dealt with him trying to make contact with another spy-type. They were communicating in bizarre code, leaving clues for one another.
The main character narrates the show as if it were a how-to on spying. This particular narration was about how spies can’t trust each other, so before real contact can be made, they test each other out using non-involved third parties. In this case, the other guy paid a random stranger on the street to stand at a magazine rack reading a travel brochure. The stranger was told only to give a parcel to the first person who came around bothering him.
The main character’s name is Michael Westen. The clue in this case was that the travel brochure was for Madison, Wisconsin.
… You know what? I just found a quote from the show, I’m going to paste that in so you can read it yourself. I think I’m getting a little too roundabout.
The truly paranoid donâ€™t go to meetings themselves. They use a cutout, someone unrelated to them hired to show a prearranged sign and deliver a message. The sign is something innocuous but hard to miss. My favorite is a tourist guide from Madison Wisconsin. No one will look at it twice, but unless Iâ€™m in the mid-west I know they are waiting for Michael Westen.
—Burn Notice episode 11, “Dead Drop”/”Loose Ends”
So, I immediately began thinking, what tourist guide would I use? Mike? Anyone else?
Unfortunately for me, my initials are DJ, and there really aren’t any states that start with J. So, I have to go more global. Mike didn’t think there were any countries beginning with J, but I think he just didn’t think about it long enough. I rolled my eyes and said, “Jordan.” And unless you already knew that I share my last name with that country (yeah, I gave it away… I can’t help it… this topic is too awesome), you wouldn’t know why that was funny. Moving on, we came to Japan, but there aren’t any interesting places in Japan that begin with D. There’s also Jamaica, but again, no D cities. The only other country beginning with J is Jersey Island, which is barely a speck in the channel between France and England. As a bonus, all of their towns seem to start with S, so at least my sister is covered.
But that did give me an idea. Can I be so lame as to use the state of New Jersey and just ignore the N? Suddenly I’m wishing my middle initial was N… no, I’m not really, I like my middle name just fine. But still, I think I’d like to see about ignoring the N in NJ.
Well, after a bit of googling, I think I’m pretty screwed. The best I can figure is “Delaware River Region of New Jersey,” unless I want to use the tiny little town of Dover, which the New Jersey tourism sites don’t acknowledge. Lame!
More googling and I find that really Mike is screwed too. Rhode Island isn’t really holding any large number of places worth visiting, and none of them start with the letter M. Ooh! I did just think of an awesome one for him, once you go worldwide! Moscow, Russia.
Sad for me, though, because even after we’re married I’m still screwed. No interesting cities in Russia or Rhode Island starting with D.
Man, maybe this isn’t an awesome game.
Let me know if you find an awesome one for you, though. Then I can be uplifted.
The other night, we were fussing with the new TV. Mike had bought a special “how to tune your television” DVD for the last TV, and it was getting a new chance on a new device. The voice from the DVD told us, in a slightly condescending way, how to adjust the brightness and the contrast and the color and the over scan and all that other jazz. I hope he would approve. He made me feel like, if he didn’t like it, he might take our TV away from us.
So, that DVD took quite a long time. I mean, he had to explain over and over again how we are stupid, television manufacturers are idiots, and he is a super-genius. Next thing you knew, it was rather late to be considering home made dinner. So, we ordered boneless wings from Wing Street (a.k.a. the other half of Pizza Hut).
They were quite spicy. I got spicy BBQ, which Mike simply couldn’t handle. I love the spiciness of doom. His wimpy pallet insisted upon the “mild” variety of Buffalo flavor. Of course, that turned out to still be too spicy for him.
As we were cleaning up after dinner, I looked at the calendar to find out what the holiday might be, and apparently, at least according to Laura and Tom, it was, in fact, International Hot and Spicy Food Day.
…by which I mean “How appropriate!”
…and I suppose I could have substituted with the more appropriate:
Let me paint you a picture. I’m sitting on a brown leather sofa, kind of haphazardly. In front of me is an extremely large plasma television. In each of five directions, I can see very small cube speakers. They are producing no sound, but the television is producing a picture. A moving picture, in fact, showing some adorable Huskies.
When I saw the preview for Eight Below, I was in the movie theatre. I’m sure most people work the same way during the previews. A preview finishes, you look to the person you’re there with, and either make the excited “we’re going to go see that” nod or the less-than-impressed “not in a million years” finger-in-the-throat. Most of the time, Mike and I look at each other and make the same gesture. Sometimes, if I’m really excited, I fidget in my seat like a five-year-old. In this case, I was really excited. I love puppies! Mike… he made the gag gesture.
I was sad, but soon forgot about it. That is, until I was sitting in Best Buy waiting for Mike to pay for the TV.
Oh, right. We (and by “we” I really mean “Mike”) bought a new television. It’s too big. But it was on sale with several combined discounts and 3 years of no-interest financing. Why did I let him do this? I don’t know. I’m still not sure how he wore me down. But now we have a new TV, and watching 24 on it was pretty nice.
So there I am, sitting in a store, amongst people I do not know, watching the end of a movie I’ve never seen, hearing the audio from the next movie over (which I immediately recognized as Superman Returns, in case you were wondering). There were puppies. They were cute. Their owner-daddy found them. One of them was missing. Sadness. One of them wouldn’t get in the truck and ran off. Owner-daddy chased him. They found another puppy lying on the ground. Owner-daddy cried because, like me, he thought the puppy was dead. But then… you could see he was breathing… and his eyes opened… and owner-daddy picked him up and carried him home. And then…
I was bawling.
I love television.
I am very sorry to each and every one of my brain cells that may find itself turned off during my long stints of television viewing. Please forgive me, brain cells! But I really love television.
So, last night, on one of our plethora of TiVos (because why have just one?) [EDIT: Check out today’s apropos PvP], we were watching a couple of this season’s new shows. Oddly enough, they were both on NBC – a channel I’m pretty I would have forgotten the existence of last year, if it weren’t for my addictive need for intravenous Law and Order. (I prefer the CI flavor, but I still watch SVU and the OG on occasion.)
Which two shows, you wonder? That would be Heroes and Studio 60. Forgive my fan-girl-ism, but WOW WAY COOL AWESOME YAY! How could those shows go wrong in my eyes? If I were Maria, my song about my favorite things would include super heroes and satire (in addition to the “snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes”).
Anyway, I’m a little (probably unreasonably) excited about television. If they cancel one of these shows before I get to enjoy it thoroughly, I will be very, very sad.
I love the Olympics. I watch just about every possible minute of them. Even sports I normally wouldn’t care about are super-exciting when it’s the Olympics!
This obsession meant that for two recent weeks, I missed (but TiVo-ed) all of my normal TV programs. This obsession meant that I went to bed an hour or more later than I normally do, and was therefore somewhat tired every day. This obsession meant that I watched actual commercials.
And one of those commercials, which was repeated quite a bit, was for the show Deal or No Deal.
I try to tell myself that I’m totally not gullible. I always poke fun at Mike for being the target audience for ever ad ever shown on TV. I’ve witnessed him watch a Pizza Hut commercial and moments later turn to me and say, “Do you want to get pizza for dinner tonight?” I laughed at his gullibility. I thought I was impervious. I thought I could withstand the pressure.
“There’s just one question: deal or no deal?”
Well, crap. I was suckered in. So, finally, during a commercial break for the closing ceremonies, I programmed one of our numerous TiVo devices (Mike likes technology) to grab Deal or No Deal. It was a moment of weakness. I felt sorry for myself, but decided I may as well continue in that state.
[Aside: I’ve totally done this once before. Can we say, “You’re risking the patient’s life!” It’s the price I paid for getting to watch my Red Sox win the World Series. At least we didn’t pick up “Her father’s the district attorney!” the year before.]
Last night, Mike was reading a book, and my brain didn’t really feel like being engaged, so I put on the first two episodes of Deal or No Deal. Oh. My. God. I totally thought it was an easy game, and that I could totally handle it, and I’d “win” because I’m good at math. Turns out that’s a load of crap.
There I was, sitting on the sofa, clutching a pillow and the corner of a blanket, yelling at the TiVo-ed taped television program. The first guy managed to push his luck all the way to over $300,000. The lucky bastard had only $25 in his briefcase. It was awesome. I wish I was him. Then, the poor second lady ended up with her case, which was worth only $5. I was so sad! I wanted her to win so badly! She seemed so nice!
So I’ve been thinking about what I would do, with the audience and my family and friends yelling at me, while Howie “I didn’t know he ran out of money” Mandel (quote from Mike’s dad) urges me to answer, “Deal or no deal?” I’d probably freak out and forget everything I ever learned about pot odds and any other kind of probability. You have to keep playing until you win the million! Right? But… if they offered me $100,000, there’s no way I could turn it down! Right? GHA! I don’t know what I would do!
And then they’d cut to commercial.
That’s one thing I did notice about the show – the obscene number of commercials. Luckily, I’m back to TiVo-land – the lovely land where commercials don’t exist. I can thrive here for at least a little while. Well, at least until baseball season starts. Then I’ll start my annual memorization of the local furniture store ads.
Well, for the second day in a row, someone has ruined a TV show for someone else at breakfast. This is, perhaps, getting out of hand. I should probably warn you that I might make mention of television programs that aired recently. So if you’ve got your best friend (your TiVo) storing up some shows that you haven’t watched, you should tread carefully through this post.
It all started on Tuesday. I was just peacefully sitting at my desk, and I hear two of my coworkers talking. I poke my head up, and suddenly realize that they’re talking about Jack. There isn’t a Jack in my office. Jack Bauer is the subject of conversation. I quickly cupped my hands over my ears and monotonically sang “LA LA LA LA LA…” I was lucky to evade the situation.
Unfortunately, Wednesday brought escalation. As we were walking down to breakfast, one of my coworkers said, “House was wicked good last night.” He’s from the area. He says “wicked” a lot. Anyway, I immediately replied, “I haven’t seen it yet.” He hushed up. Temporarily.
We all got our food, sat down at a table by the windows (our only chance to see the sun all day), and started eating. Here I was, minding my own business, sprinkling some salt on my eggs, and what does that same coworker do? [SPOILER ALERT] “So Stacey’s leaving.”
“You ass!” I wailed. “I said I didn’t see it yet!” Something about the concept of TiVo is lost on this guy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, but he still lives in the days before TiVo or even VCR, where everyone watched the same show at the same time. That is so 1960s.
So here I am, whining that it’s ruined, when another coworker chimes in, “It’s so sad that Wilson died.” This I knew could not be true. But the first coworker definitely took the ball and ran with it, full speed! “Yeah, that car accident was tragic!” I laughed. I know they didn’t mean badly by it.
Then, Thursday morning comes around. The same troupe of guys was walking down the hall towards the cafe. A couple of people were talking about Lost. Now, I don’t actually watch Lost. My only exposure to it is from the Super Bowl ad (“Might as well face it, you’re addicted to Lost!”). So, I had no idea what they were talking about.
But the same coworker who made jokes about Wilson yells out, “I TiVoed it, I haven’t seen it yet.” They acknowledged him, but the conversation barely stoped for a second. Then they said something pivotal. “UGH!” I made some comment about how he got his due reward, and the other two continue on, weaving in obvious (I guess) lies. They all ended up laughing about it, though the one with the TiVo was at least a little bit miffed.
Back at the table by the window, and I suddenly become the problem. Apparently, my next-cube-neighbor had said that he hadn’t yet seen House. Well, I didn’t hear him. So I guess I now understand the problem, because now that I have seen House, I wanted to talk about it. So, I ruined the [SPOILER!] Stacey thing for him too.
Now, don’t get me wrong, TiVo is a fabulous device. TiVo is our friend. TiVo watches television for us when we cannot. TiVo lets us save part 1 of 2 so that we can watch the two parter back to back, instead of waiting. However, TiVo is making breakfast conversation more difficult.
I talked to Mike about this yesterday, and he said that his group of coworkers basically bans talking about television that happened less than a month ago. If you are a month behind, you’re screwed. I think that’s more or less fair. But what are you to do when you get excited about the show you just watched the night before? Well, basically, hold it in. And, if someone starts with the “LA LA LA LA LA”s, shut it. Seriously.
… and only 74 until opening day!
Take me out to the ballgame!
Take me out to the crowd!
Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack!
I don’t care if I never get back,
‘Cause it’s root, root, root for the home team,
If they don’t win it’s a shame,
For it’s, “One! Two! Three strikes you’re out!”
At the old ballgame!
I am so done with football. I don’t even want to talk about it. Seriously. Leave me alone. My only consolation is that Indy lost too.
Did you watch 24 last night? You should have. I won’t tell you anything. Just that you should have watched it.
I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with television. Probably because it’s addictive and it rots the brain. Nothing wrong with a good brain-rotting every now and again. I don’t even like some of the shows I watch. 24 makes me anxious, nervous, and pukey! I hate it, but I’m in love with it anyway.
Other awesome shows that I watch even though I hate them include Battlestar Galactica and The Office. Battlestar has the same effect on me as 24 – it makes me nervous and anxious. And occasionally pukey, but it doesn’t cause me quite as much stomach distress. The Office makes me nervous because it’s a sit-com, but it’s a different kind of nervous. I hate sit-coms by there very nature.
Yet I watch all of these shows anyway. They’re too good. Damn television and it’s seductive ways!
When you have two TiVos and a DVR cable box, you know you and your boyfriend (especially your boyfriend!) are addicted. Yeah, that’s right, we can simultaneously tape four things at once. That’s not really what we do, but we could if we wanted to!
At breakfast this morning, one of my coworkers was wining about not having good audio with his new HDTV. We were giving him all kinds of suggestions, and he got nervous about the idea of adding another box to his setup. He counted up his three devices, and I snapped, “Oh, wow, three? Wow. I’ve got nine.”
Another coworker pointed out that was because my boyfriend is a “gadgetron.” I’m pretty sure that was the word he used too. He’s a strange man. Anyway, it is true. Mike likes the gadgets. I’m currently trying to hold him off from buying an even bigger and more ridiculous TV. We live in a smallish apartment. We don’t need a bigger TV. Seriously.
I played additional poker this weekend. After not winning that Omaha 8 tournament, I decided I could afford to step up a limit and try out the $1/$2 table. It was something I’d been contemplating anyway. But more like, “I wonder how big I’ll want my bankroll before I’ll feel safe jumping up there,” rather than, “Let’s do it now!” But with the doubled bankroll from this weekend, I felt pretty safe trying it out. It went well.
On average, the players aren’t really better at the higher level. The only real difference to me is that I can sit at 5-max tables, rather than starting a new full table and hoping it doesn’t get filled up too quickly. I get really bored at full tables and end up donking off money calling pre-flop bets with junk.
An embarrassing moment happened after a few hours of play. I totally misread my hand and the board. In a stellar moment of intellect, equaling that of a fine gentleman fish from the previous day’s tourney, I thought I had a full house. What I really had was three of a kind. Or two pair. I did have several redraws (what I actually had was 3 of a kind, with multiple redraws to a full house, due to the fact that my other two cards each had a partner on the board). Meanwhile, I’m raising and re-raising the guy who actually has the nuts (in this case, a straight). I am such a donkey!
You can’t have a full house if there’s no pair on the board. You can’t have a full house if there’s no pair on the board. You can’t have a full house if there’s no pair on the board.
I gave myself four big bets to calm the fuck down, saying I’d leave if I lost $8 or more before regaining control. I was quite proud of myself when I only donked off three retarded limps before I got back into my game. But by that point, my concentration was shot, so I closed out of the game up a ridiculously unsustainable amount.
I haven’t got much else to say. I hope you all had a nice weekend… I think I did. It would have been better if a certain sporting event hadn’t been so nauseatingly terrible…
…Take me out to the ballgame…