Netflix resembles a puddle of slime that I'm tired of stepping in.
"LOOK AT ME!" they seem to say.
TAKE THIS IN.
THINK LIKE THIS!
MY WAY IS RIGHT!
The volume on both seems to be turned up to the max, and I have decided to take a break.
I have been binge watching Grey's Anatomy.
It's my first time watching it and I got lost in the story.
Stories are good.
Stories in TV shows and movies are so much more interesting than my own story. Their stories have a clear beginning, an exciting and dramatic climax, and in most cases a satisfying ending. Their people don't look frumpy or middle-aged, but if they do, it is to make their glamorous reveal at the end of the story, all the more dramatic. Their people generally don't have unusually curly hair.
My story is about work, cleaning, cooking and being married for 25 years to the same man who loves me unconditionally and works hard for his family. He has never cheated on me. He does not drink or beat me. He loves his kids and does not cause them undue stress. My children love me and we like to be together. We don't fight very often. I do have unusually curly hair.
Seriously Hollywood? You can't work with this?
But I grow weary of Grey's Anatomy and their story. I have completed the first two seasons but Meredith needs to steer clear of McDreamy. He's married and nothing good can come out of what they are up to. Izzy should not fall in love with a patient she has only known in a hospital setting for less than a month. Christina needs to widen her worldview; life is not only about surgery. George is a mess. Why is he so afraid of everything?
I do want my real life story to be more than coming home from work, fixing and cleaning up supper, and then settling in to watch the stories being fed to me by the creators of Grey's Anatomy.
I want my real-life story to include real-life people even if their real-life stories don't have a clear beginning and an ending that wraps up nicely in an hour's time. Granted, Facebook and Netflix are more convenient.
With Facebook and Netflix, I can show up in my jammie pants and have wonky hair. Plus it is winter here in Iowa and once you get in from a day that has hit you with wind, cold, damp and dreary, going out again can seem like a bad idea.
I know, excuses, excuses, but warm, fuzzy pants, a sweatshirt, and a warm house during the winter months in this prairie town can not be ignored or discounted.
How can I convince myself to break free of my fuzzy jammie pant habit and put myself in situations where there are more real-life people?
Maybe I should start inviting real-life people to real-life dinner around my real-life table so I can listen to their real-life story while we eat good food. That way, if I invite them to my house and do the cooking, I don't actually have to go out.
Do you believe that is a fair trade? You have to go out but you don't have to cook? Think about it.
There would have to be rules; for myself and my guests.
1. Jammie pants are allowed. Why not? (Please no scratching).
2. Wonky hair is also allowed. And fuzzy socks if your feet are cold.
Dinner would not be fancy. Maybe a big pot of chicken noodle soup or some beef stew? Chili and corn bread? Chicken pot pie and a Caesar salad? Home-made macaroni and cheese and a garden salad? Home-made tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches on sourdough? Brownies? Chocolate chip cookies? Rice Krispie treats? Monster bars?
|Please note that none of these pictures are mine. They were all found on the web but they do look delicious!|
Are you feeling me right now?
Yum. Easy. Simple. Comforting. Real-life food. Real-life people.
Then when the time came to hug and say goodbye, and I closed the door on my night of real-life people and found my house empty again, I would continue to turn my back on the TV and computer.
Now would be time for me and a cup of chamomile tea. I would take my mug of tea, hold it with both hands and breathe in some warmth. I would sit cross-legged on my couch, sip my tea, and let the flavor and aroma of the real-life people story and the time spent with real-life people, mingle with the smell of what we ate for dinner a little while longer before I turned off the lights and headed to bed.
Doesn't seem like a terrible way to spend an evening does it? I mean, everyone has to eat, and honestly Meredith Grey's decisions are wearing me out.
And please, let's not forget. I said jammie pants were allowed.