Archive for March 18th, 2013


I don’t love Downton Abbey. There. I said it. (Please don’t thrown rotten vegetables at me.) I gave it a good go. I watched the first two seasons and started recording the third until I had time to watch it. I was finally able to steal a couple of hours the other night to get back into it and…nothing. I wasn’t intrigued. The plot line is slow. The dialogue isn’t funny or entertaining. It’s just…blah. It reminds me of the days I lived with my grandparents and my grandma watched Masterpiece Theater all the time. I hated it. I’m glad to see PBS has a hit show on their hands for once, but I’m just not a fan.

No love for Downton.

And while we’re on the topic of me not liking shows everyone else likes, I’ll also confess that I don’t like The Bachelor. Or The Bachelorette. Or any other matchmaking show. I watched the first couple of seasons of both and that was enough. I suppose I’ve just lost fascination with other people’s love lives. Actually, I guess that’s not entirely true. I still read all the sordid details about celebrity breakups and makeups in my US Weekly. But I still roll my eyes and skip over the stories involving reality TV stars.

Why is this guy always on my magazines?!

I don’t understand the appeal of Bethenny Frankel. I watch a lot of Ellen, mostly because it’s one of the few shoes that I can have on while the baby plays on the floor. No sex, guns, violence – a little inappropriateness now and again, but for the most part, it’s kid-friendly. Anyway, Ellen is a huge Bethenny fan and helped her get her own show, so she’s on there almost every other week it seems. And I just don’t get it. What’s her hook supposed to be? What is it about her that I should be drawn to? It’s not that I dislike her, I just don’t get why she’s famous.

“I don’t get it either.”

If you’re a longtime reader, you know I have a mild obsession with John Stamos. The other night, after an evening that included a 10 minute viewing of a Full House rerun and a glass of wine, I had a dream about Mr. Stamos. A very good dream that I’m certain my husband would not approve of, if I were to tell him. (And I have not. In my dream, I was also conveniently single, so that makes it ok.) Let’s just say I woke up in a better mood than usual.

“So…wanna makeout?”

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