Actually, it was more like a month and a half and it wasn’t by my choice. It was interesting, nonetheless.

My TV broke. And it sucked. I was watching it and accidentally turned it off. It didn’t turn off the right way. It wouldn’t turn back on. I had to ind a way to get it out of here and then buy a new one. In the mean time, I learned some things.

• TV really is a good way to veg out sometimes. It’s distracting.
• It also provides background noise in the middle of the night that helps a person to feel less isolated.
• But sometimes the stuff that’s on really isn’t any better than watching nothing at all.
• Streaming Netflix is a God send. I watched a ton of it–mostly Family Guy–but my computer just isn’t very high quality.
• I can’t do anything on the computer if I am also watching a show or movie on it.
• A TV can serve as a central decorating point that pulls a room together. Without it, everything looks bare.
• Daily/weekly shows are fun to watch. They’re reassuring.
• Season premieres are exciting.
• I go a little stir crazy after not having a TV.
• Yet, having a TV isn’t a make it or break it deal, really. I am excited to have one again but I more used to not having one than I realized. I use it a lot less now.
• TV can make me restless in an anxious way.

I tell people not to die a lot. I don’t literally mean it. I mean, I kinda of do. I probably don’t actually want you to die but when I use this phrase, I usually mean something like “It’ll be okay” or “Don’t let it get to you.” However, there are times when I have very specifically worried about people dying.

When I was younger, I sometimes had trouble sleeping because I was afraid my mom would die and I’d wake up and not have her. This was probably compounded by the fact that my sister actually did die. Kind of fucks a girl up.

This problem really affected me for a short time. I had a difficult time falling asleep and when I would, I’d have nightmares. I’d run into mom’s room crying. I’d try to sleep in her bed. This usually didn’t work.

I can’t remember how or when this fear passed. Occasionally, I will still feel a debilitating fear about some subject. A few years ago, I could barely crawl out of bed because I was afraid that my life was too insignificant to matter. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn. That, too, passed.

I don’t feel particularly fearful now, which is great. I also feel significantly less fearful in my dreams–a fact that I can attribute to dealing better with my anxiety in the waking hours.

I’d probably experience a bunch of anxiety if you were to die. So, don’t die.

I am a bleeding heart liberal, humanist with a tenuous faith in God and a big mouth.

I am the best friend that many of my friends have ever had and I am working to be even better.

I am a crazy cat lady who is mommy to two of the most beautiful albeit annoying felines that ever walked the Earth.

I am perpetually interested in anything and as such, have developed a well of facts that only useful as long as they are entertaining to my peers.

I am the owner of two wonderfully feminine breasts and this is central to my being.

I am ridiculously funny and I know it sounds pompous to come right out and say it, but it’s true,

I am experiencing a level of okayness with myself, my life and my body that is strange but entirely natural.

I am experiencing such a level of discontent with the world and its tragedies that I’ve no doubt I will one day do something to rectify the situation–as soon as I figure out what that is. In the mean time, I will continue to be the funny friend and send good vibes out into the world.

I am ever naive and optimistic when it comes to the following things: my natural abilities, the goodness of others, the fairness of the “system” and love.

I am going to have cheesecake with cherries for breakfast at 2:35 in the afternoon.

I just read the repeal against “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was blocked. I guess supporting our troops is just too much to ask, eh?

Wil Wheaton had it right when he posted this:

I’m going to be sad now.

Well I have. I seem be alone in this one. It’s usually related to a pretty common thing, however.

You know how sometimes you swallow your spit wrong? It goes down the wrong tube. And you feel like you’re choking and the only thing you can do is cough until you get that one really big cough?

And then you’re all better.

But in the meantime, you look like a moron if anyone else is around because, like, what the hell is wrong with you?

Yea, I hate that.

And when that happens and the really big cough make my arms hurt.

That sucks, too.