Television

I found out today Veronica Mars has the ability to time travel. I saw her in the wild west, a place called Deadwood, where Wild Bill Hickok was killed. I observed her cavorting with a lesbian hooker named Joanie and stealing some of her jewelry at a gambling establishment known as the Bella Union. Joanie ended up killing her later on at the behest of her boss, Cy, but she didn't enjoy it, so it shouldn't really count.

Have I mentioned before how non-HBO-quality Deadwood is? It's actually more UPN-ish. And Veronica Mars is more HBO-esque. Maybe Veronica thought so too, and, in her confusion, ended up on both shows? To be fair, I have only watched about ten episodes of the first season of Deadwood, I've never been a fan of the Wild West, and most important of all, I'm not much of a misogynist. So you see, I'm kind of biased.

In the very recent past, I've watched entire seasons (and in some cases, all of the existing seasons, in their entirety) of: Carnivale, Six Feet Under, Nip/Tuck, Veronica Mars, Twin Peaks, Sex and the City, and Desperate Housewives.^

I've noticed some common themes amongst these amazing shows (Some more amazing than others. And others still that are hardly watchable at all.) From my observations, I've compiled a list of elements that make a show watchable (or at least popular). All of these elements involve at least one main character, unless otherwise specified or not applicable. You need at least three of the following, not to exceed ten for any one show (Otherwise the show, though it may be labeled "popular", becomes unwatchable. Also, some elements listed may or may not have been observed in only one of the aforementioned shows):

* a safety deposit box key that no one knows about until someone either skips town or dies
* a paternity test, coupled with not immediately finding out what the results are
* adultery, both in the past and ongoing
* at least one unsolved murder, preferably of a young female
* substance abuse
* at least one unplanned pregnancy
* a diagnosis or clear-cut observation of mental illness or instability
* token "other"^^ characters (at least three) that the show would die without: sullen female adolescent, dependable black male, lovable gay, proud Latino, angst-ridden middle-aged WASP female, single 30-something cosmopolitan writer, two-bit whore, etc.
* the supernatural: telepathic abilities, telekinesis, communing with the dead, ghosts, monsters, unexplained phenomena, and UFOs, inclusive
* an abusive patriarchal figure + matching victim(s)
* Sex, sex, sex... But more importantly, people talking about sex
* lies, corruption, deceit, scandal, betrayal, greed
* a gruff, drunk female character with no redeeming qualities that bears little resemblance to the historic figure she is intending to represent
* set in a small, small town, even by the standards of the time, somewhere in the northwestern United States
* alcohol used more than any other beverage
* the "everyman": strong, steady, upstanding, level-headed, usually white and in his mid-thirties; predictably winds up being some sort of hero and defender-of-the-meek, numerous times
* unintelligible, garbled, mumbled, obscure and possibly inaccurate-for-the-time-period dialogue that requires the use of Closed Captioned subtitles even for those of us that are hearing
* the use of the words "fuck", "cocksucker" and "cunt" at least seven times each, every three minutes, for the duration of each episode
* loads and loads of gratuitous, unforgivable (though, to be fair, probably historically accurate) misogyny, even though the show appears to be written mostly by women


Huh. I just perused HBO's Deadwood site again, and noticed that there's a blurb about the New York Times. Supposedly, the New York Times thinks Deadwood is "as absorbing and addictive as The Sopranos".

Hm.

Remind me never to watch The Sopranos.


^ I know, I should get some kind of award.

^^ Meaning, in addition to the plethora of complex 18-50-year-old white male characters used as a "baseline". See "Band of Brothers" for more info on how a mini-series can become a raging success and not feature any single other type of character.

Go, Spurs, Go!

I'm going to go completely off-topic (if there is such a thing on this blog) and talk about the Spurs.

In the Western Conference so far, they have defeated the Denver Nuggets and the Seattle Supersonics. They are now up against the Phoenix Suns who they beat in the first three games.

It worries me a little bit when I hear that no one in the history of the NBA has ever come back from losing the first three playoff games to win because that just means that if the Suns DO manage to pull it off, it'll be all the harder for the Spurs to live it down. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

The Spurs almost swept the Suns in the fourth game, but unfortunately, last night wasn't their night. You can't win them all, and in truth, the Suns did play a better game four. We will see how things develop tomorrow in Phoenix.

Still, for all you Spurs fans out there, especially of #20, you can get shirts on ebay with timely, cleverly photoshopped iron-on transfers.

Here's one I like:



It just... Fits.

More Diapers... Hallelujah!

I made four more diapers after not making jack in a long time.

Here they are.

Chinese takeout (Or take-away, if you prefer):



Polka-Dots:



Farm Fun:



Citrus:



I found out recently someone I know is pregnant, and I'm so excited for her I'm going to make her as many as she wants. I don't know that she'll want any, but I'm hoping she does. This is going to be so much fun!!

The Araucana's Sink

Our lovely Araucana had been cannibalized a little by her peers while living in the upstairs bathroom, so we stuck her in our downstairs bathroom. The coop hadn't been finished yet, so we really had no other place to put her.

After she was finally transferred to the outdoors, we were left to contend with the disaster she'd left our bathroom in.

I'll spare you the grisly shambles of the rest of the bathroom, but I will share with you a picture of the aftermath of the sink:



That is the result of one chicken, working alone, for only a few days. And that's only the sink. You haven't seen the rest of the bathroom, and I'm not showing it to you.

To tackle this problem, I needed to get out the cleaning stuff:



Clockwise from left: Dr. Bronner's Tea Tree Oil Castille Soap, roll of paper towels, purple spray bottle filled with water, clear spray bottle filled with a mixture of Dr. Bronner's soap + water, blue rag, gloves.

Apparently Dr. Bronner's soap is so mild some people use it to brush their teeth with.

Oh, I almost forgot.



Baking soda. In a shaker container. I keep it in the fridge when I'm not using it to clean up chicken shit.

After much cursing, scrubbing, gritting of teeth, and several unpleasantly grime-filled hours, the sink, and the rest of the bathroom, looked something like this:



We haven't contracted Salmonella or any other chicken-feces-related ailments yet, even though no bleach or harsh cleaning products were used. Hmm...

Mothers' Day

I have an addiction. I read infertility blogs. It's not so much that the subject of infertility is fascinating or that I like reading blogs so much. It's that the women who are writing them are willing to be so open about themselves regarding something so very personal and painful. I don't know that I would have the same strength in their position. Heck, I don't yet know with any guarantee that I won't be in their position because I haven't really tried to find out whether I can have a baby or not. After reading so many blogs, I realize nothing is impossible. I am not immune from infertility.

I made a silly doodle for my mom for today, Mothers' Day. I didn't finish it in time for it to get to her today, so Trustin scanned it for me and made it into a jpeg file. I emailed it to her, and then I thought about all the other mothers out there who aren't getting a silly doodle. Mothers who, for whatever reason, didn't get to keep or have their children, either by miscarriage, stillbirth, child death, abortion, adoption, or by never having the opportunity to officially have the title of Mother at all. Mothers-at-heart, with all the varying degrees and shades of gray, who also deserve their day.

At the risk of being publicly ridiculed and burned at the stake (not only for my artistic disability, but also for mentioning "abortion" in the same sentence as, well, all the other words it was paired up with), I share my silly doodle for ALL mothers:



Happy Mothers' Day. To all of you.