Quirky,

Is is so wrong that I wish I lived inside a Showtime melodrama?

Does this make me strange? (For the record, I prefer quirky.)

Do I need therapy?

Seriously. I know we all have problems. But my problems are so ordinary. At least if I lived inside the mastermind of  a Showtime writer my problems would include sex, drugs and rock and roll- not to mention a quippy blog, snappy pop culture references, perhaps a good long look at Henry the VII, and all actors from 90's WB shows.

Problem Number 1. The L Word has given me unrealistic expectations for my life. Seriously- all these chicks have money, and are gorgeous. And no matter what trippy relationship conundrum they are dealing with their hair still looks great.

Problem Number 2. The Tudors. This show may be incredibly loosely historically based, but they sure make old school look hott. I mean, I guess they do avoid shots of folks using chamber pots and brushing their teeth with chalk. But whatevs.

Problem Number 3 (aka the nail in the coffin). Californication. Ok so this show was shortlived, but I totally want to move to LA, become a writer/blogger/epic screw up and live in a fantastic apartment. Ok, so smoking is a dirty nasty habit and I quit over a year ago. But true story, Duchovny makes smoking a cig look good as he pensively inhales while overlooking LA from a classic looking west cost cliff.

Problem Number 4. I just subscribed to Netflix and spent our last snowy weekend in my bed devouring old TV shows like some type of glutton. I had absolutely no desire to get up and spend time with the three dimensional people.

Only bright spot: I was scared of becoming a blob in front of my laptop/computer so I DID make myself go to the gym and it's not so bad that I've started skipping work. yet. Maybe you guys should keep tabs on me.