losing my convictions

I've more than willing to acknowledge that one of my biggest character flaws is a tendency to apply equal weight to all of my beliefs, from the silly to the substantial. In daily life, this often means that I will defend my love of all-things-Mac/Apple with the same fervor that I will expound upon my opposition to the Bush Administration and other Masters of War. Wearing socks with sandals? Putting relish in your tuna fish? Country music? Clearly as heinous as those sickos (sic?) that set their pets on fire. I am not kidding. I just seem to have been born without the little importance-o-meter that all people should have implanted in their brains somewhere.

I mention this because I want to convey to you the full meaning of my distress when I say that I have given up, caved in to what were some of my most closely-held beliefs. I have sold-out, and put aside my convictions for sheer peace of mind and comfort of body. I am so ashamed.

So, what have I done to bring on this remorse, this true disappointment in myself? Here are the cardinal Murphy/Ferriot rules which I have violated:

I. Thou shalt not watch television.
How, oh how did I let this happen? I have lived happily, blissfully free of American Idol, Cops, The OC, and even Buffy for the last six years. I have not seen a single commercial or music video. I haven't seen South Park since Season One. I have never seen The Daily Show. And you know what? I never missed it.

Okay, that's a lie. I miss the Sopranos. I hate having to wait until shows that actually have some redeeming quality get to DVD before I can see them. I hate having to avoid all media that discusses what's already happened until I can catch up. (As in, I found out Adriana gets whacked by lowering my vigilance and reading a feature on Drea in Vogue. Vogue! Why the hell do they care about her character? Don't they just care about her legs??)

But on the good side, I wasted a lot less time watching things that might be good, but turn out to be complete drivel. Once a show is to DVD, the verdict is pretty much in. I can live with that. We had Netflix. I mean, we're not completely off the grid. So I learned patience and the art of bulking up a sizable queue.

So what happened? The DH happened. I couldn't take the whinging anymore. About how I am depriving him of his basic human rights and such. And my entire family sided with him when the subject came up at the reunion. So I caved. Got a satellite (with a DVR, natch.)

Sadness. So, so sad. Especially when I learned that there are not one, but two channels entirely devoted to game hunting and the idiots who film themselves game hunting. From what I can discern, God is very happy with his devotees and their animal sacrifices in his name in central Missouri. The DH is delighted.

Okay, so there is always the balm of neverending reruns of Law & Order. But still, the sting of my failure will rankle for a long, long time.


I. Thou shalt not own or operate an air conditioner north of the Mason-Dixon line.
If I can live in extreme southern Maryland for four years, sandwiched between two humid waterways in a house that had to be 98% water, all through the summer, without mechanical coolant of any kind, I can damn well live out a few sweltering weeks in Vermont. Vermont! for chrissakes. BZZZZT! Wrong again!

Reader, I bought an a/c unit.

I'm sorrreeee, I am such a wus! It's just, what with the digital indoor thermometer that mocks me with its 91 degree heat inside and 86% relative humidity, and the fact that I've had to wear my hair shellacked to my head for the past three weeks in order not to frighten the co-workers, I just couldn't take it anymore!! I haven't slept in DAYS. It's bad enough that my bladder is the size of a walnut and I'm getting up to pee every hour, but when the sheets come with you to the bathroom because they're glued to your back? Just, ew.

I live in Vermont because for 9 months out of the year, you can go ice skating on your driveway. Because snow is never a reason not to get in your car and go somewhere. NOT BECAUSE IT REMINDS ME OF A TROPICAL PARADISE. I swear, I'm going to hock the damn air conditioner and move to Newfoundland. I hear they make good yarn there.

ps- i have no idea what is wrong with the font sizes in this post. they won't do what I tell them to.