Realizations

The past couple of days, I have come to some realizations, some big and some small.

For example, I realized yesterday (while strolling to the park with my handsome son) that now that I am a Southern gal I find it not only extremely odd if someone I pass on the street doesn't wave at me, but I am somewhat offended when they don't.  I mean, come on!  If I'm going to live in a town where I have to drive at least 40 minutes to buy a packet of curry mix there need to be some perks.  One of those perks is having everyone be friendly, which means strangers on the street are supposed to wave at you.  And most of them do.  Which is why I was shocked yesterday when three didn't.

I also realized yesterday (while cleaning my father-in-law's office, because he's awesome and gave me that job so I can afford health insurance) that some people are just nasty.  Case in point:  who pees all over a toilet (and I don't want to get TOO graphic here, but I will suffice to say that when I say "all over a toilet" I really do mean ALL OVER the toilet) and just leaves it.  I would be mortified to leave a restroom covered in my urine, knowing that someone could walk in behind me and know that I DID THAT.  A second office example:  who deposits their chewed stick of Big Red on a leather, waiting room chair--on which someone else may sit! So gross!  These people had mothers, did they teach them NOTHING?  

I also realized yesterday, that I occasionally enjoy trashy TV.  I guess I've always known this, because as a youngster, I used to watch episodes of a show starring these lovely people:


That, my friends is the cast of The Bold and the Beautiful.  I don't mean to expose my mother's inner-most secrets on this blog, but she watched this show when I was growing up.  She still watches it (sorry, Mom).  My Grandma Joy watches it, too (sorry, Grandma).  I don't watch it anymore, but I do tune in with her when I go home to visit.  She records the episodes, and we fast forward through the commercials.  That means one 30 minute episode probably ends up being closer to 18 minutes.  The amazing thing is, I can tune in for a couple weeks a year and feel like I never stopped watching.  That's the beautiful thing about soap operas.  I mean, my mom will have to fill me in a little bit (about which divorcee is now married to which "I-thought-he-was-dead"-"no-he-was-always-alive-just-was-in-a-coma-and-forgot-his-identity" fellow) but it won't take long for me to be completely up to speed.

I denied I had rekindled my trashy TV addiction for a while when I first started watching this:

See that smiling, sensational actress in the left-hand corner?  That's Sally Field.  If you don't know who she is, I suggest you go to rent my favorite movie of all time, which just happens to be Steel Magnolias.  If you don't want to watch the entire film (which is a ludicrous thought--OF COURSE you want to watch the entire film), you can fast forward to the funeral scene--look for the part where she starts screaming, "I'm fine"--and I guarantee you will still cry:  that's how amazing Sally Field is.  Anyway, I started watching this series because I could stream in on Netflix, which we currently have due to a wonderful Christmas gift from my parents.  (Plus, my friend Lacey told me about it.  Sorry, Lacey.)  The plot lines were a little extreme (see how honest I'm being, maybe you shouldn't judge me too harshly), most of the acting was mediocre at best, and Sally was still amazing.  I couldn't stop watching.  She sucked me in.     I have now watched the first three seasons (remember that part earlier about not judging me too harshly?).  Anyway, despite the at times melodramatic nature of the show, I didn't think it was a soap opera.  I mean, it airs in the evening (even though I stream it at all times of day while I nurse Kaden or fold a load of laundry).  Then, Chad caught a few snippets of episodes. One time, he walked in while I was watching one and we had a conversation that went something like this:

Chad:  You're still watching this show, huh?

Katie:  Yup.  It's not even that good, but Sally Field is so amazing I can't stop.
 
Chad:  Wait a minute, they're dating?

Katie:  Yup, they're going to get married.

Chad:  I thought they were brother and sister.

Katie:  No, no.  They only THOUGHT they were brother and sister.  They thought she was his father's illegitimate child from his mistress, Holly.  Then they found out her real dad was a man named David, so they started dating.  The real illegitimate kid is a boy, some kid named Ryan.

Chad:  I seriously can't believe you're still watching this.

Light bulb.  Once I heard myself explaining the plot out loud, there was no denying its soap opera-ness.

And the thing is, I can't believe I'm still watching it either.  But every episode ends with some plot twist that makes me stream another episode later, because I just HAVE TO KNOW what happens.  Evil.
  
Today (while watching my sweet baby go for his first swing) I realized that the likelihood that this face will ever stop melting my heart is non-existent:

 It's hard not to forgive me for my trashy TV addictions when I bombard you with photos of a precious face like that at the end of a post, isn't it?  I'm very sneaky.

 

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