Well, yet another blog post beginning with the phrase... "it's been awhile". In the famous words of a rather devious old-English sister, "I'm a married woman now, I don't have time for such things." Oh Lydia. Remind me to watch that show sometime in the near future. The BBC edition. None of this freakishly-skinny, "you've bewitched me, body and soul" bullshit.
I've fallen in love. Not only with my husband, but with Netflix. You see, carrying on two love affairs at once is exhausting. Add in work and my ability to blog with any frequency wanes.
Where was I? Oh yeah, Netflix. The content is sad, (stupid Canadian version), but I hope it to be better in the near future. The main reason I love netflix? Jeremiah. See, I'm terrible at watching shows. My friend Tanelle used to have a list of her "shows" that she would dedicate a portion of each Thursday evening to. Me? I'd watch whatever happened to be on (which was most likely CBC Newsworld, even when it was on repeat... cause I'm cool like that). Tanelle's dedication to the world of television viewing was something I could only aspire to. Not anymore... thanks to Netflix. Now I can (*gasp*)... and did watch two complete seasons of Jeremiah in a week. Yep folks, I work 50-70 hours per week, and I somehow found the time to watch 35 episodes. I'm a winner.
I also have managed to develop a TV crush. Perhaps this is the third love affair I am carrying on. C'mon, I know all of the 5 people that read this (and the occasional foreigner randomly surfing the web who stumbles across this blog and actually sticks around to read it) have fell in love with a tv character/actor/actress at some point in their life. The whole point of television is to get you to identify, emulate or at least enjoy a fake character played by a real human being for a set time per week. When you watch approximately 30 hours of one show in less than a week the attachment one develops is freakishly strong... well, it's like a romance that just ends too quickly. Just last week you were being introduced and now you're eating ice cream all alone wondering what to do with the emptiness.
Then you have the realization that the human beings that you just gotten to know and love actually played the character almost a decade ago and are long gone.
See, I blame my addictive personality. I have learned recently that I never really complete anything - I like to think my high intelligence causes me to tire quickly of the trivial nuances hobbies and the like have. I do, however, get easily caught into well-written (and sometimes even not well-written *ahem* Days of our Lives) stories. I love a good story. Before I know it, I am in the story, swinging the blade, kissing the hero and feeling the immensity that can only be felt when facing an insurmountable foe. The shitty thing about stories is that they inevitably end.
On that happy note...
Married life is great. Some people have asked me if it feels any different than before. The truth? Yes, though I notice it some days more than others. Like when I sign my name Jodi K instead of Jodi G. Like when I refer to him as my husband. Like when there is laundry all over the floor, I grumble at his laziness... then realize it's mine. Yep, love and marriage.
Off to watch TV.
