BBC America

My TV-watching is tending to skew very British these days. I'm spending a lot of time with BBC America -- watching hypergay talk-show hosts (well, just one), the near-extinction of humanity and energetic women with elaborate gloves cleaning filthy houses. Ah, those crazy English.

Soon after I adopted Dave's television, I started watching "How Clean Is Your House?" In case you haven't seen it, it's a show in which two women descend on some of the filthiest homes in the British Isles and clean them up. Kind of an Anglo version of "Hoarders," but more superficial, steering clear of the psychology behind the filthiness. It's a fun half-hour, and I think I've seen just about all the episodes that BBC America makes available.

Dave introduced me to "The Graham Norton Show," which is HILARIOUS. Graham (hypergay) is a terrific interviewer and he cooks up activities for his guests and audience members that are laugh-out-loud funny. We then expanded to watching Jonathan Ross as well -- also very funny. (Why did both of these shows adopt the same super-pink, lava-lamp decor?) Dave and I like these shows better than their American counterparts (Jay Leno, for example), but we're not sure why.

We've latched onto "Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares," in which foul-mouthed chef Gordon Ramsay tries to rehabilitate the sagging fortunes of restaurants throughout the British isles. He revamps menus, redecorates dining rooms and whips staff members into shape. It's an interesting show, though I find Ramsay irrational and downright offensive at times. He treats people terribly. I think he's the kitchen nightmare, but if the show is to be believed, he successfully turns around some dying establishments.

Enticed by the promos, I watched at least one Dr. Who movie ("The Waters of Mars"), which was interesting because I'd never seen Dr. Who before. And now I'm watching "Survivors," in which nearly everyone in Britain has been killed by a virus, leaving just a few stragglers to fend for themselves. Good so far!

I guess all this isn't surprising, considering how much I love Monty Python and "Keeping Up Appearances."

(Photo: Chinatown, last week.)

Olympics

Looks like we'll be stuck inside today. The snow is still falling, falling, falling. Last night I thought we might escape, because we'd only had lots of wet slush and not much accumulation. But that slush did indeed turn to falling snow during the night, and I had to push it all out of the way to get out the door this morning with the dogs. Fortunately, Dave and I went to the grocery store yesterday and we are almost absurdly over-provisioned.

One thing we won't be doing is watching any of the Olympics. Is anyone watching? Have any of you been talking about the games or hearing buzz from coworkers, friends or neighbors? Dave says none of his teacher friends have mentioned them, and I know only a few people who are paying attention.

I may be wrong, but I think the media gets more excited about the Olympics than the vast majority of America. Yesterday I saw that the Today show sent its whole crew to Vancouver -- even Gene Shalit, for God's sake. What an expense! And do viewers really care that much about curling and luge-ing?

I'm numb to the summer Olympics, too, but the winter games are especially mystifying to me, since I have no cultural connection to any of the sports being played. I grew up in Florida. Skating, hockey, skiing -- I did none of these things. (Well, I've been on water skis, but not snow skis.)

I'm not as glum about the Olympics as Christopher Hitchens, who wrote recently in Newsweek that they fuel an unhealthy competitive nationalism. I don't think they're exactly harmful. But I think they're somewhat outmoded. Nowadays the people of the world interact globally on a daily basis -- the novelty and necessity of coming together for sporting events just isn't the same.

What do you think?

(Photo: Cheekz street art in Tribeca. This piece has been hanging around for years. I'm not quite that grumpy about the Olympics, but maybe about the snow.)

Snowicane

Just as I was waxing poetic (or not so poetic) about the arrival of spring-like weather, we're getting slammed by another winter storm. This one is supposed to sit on top of us into tomorrow, dumping up to 16 inches of snow on parts of central New Jersey. It's been dubbed a "snowicane."

It's snowing outside as I type, but so far it's more like slush on the ground -- a big winter Slurpee. I was enjoying the melting snow, and I'm sorry to see the struggling grass covered up again. I'm going to get to the gym this morning so I can go running, thereby forestalling cabin fever over the next few days.

Dave is only working a half-day today, and we bought stuff to make chicken chili tonight. That should last us through tomorrow, when presumably we should be able to go shopping again. I don't think we'll have to follow in the footsteps of the Donner Party, despite the apocalyptic nature of storm coverage on the news. (Watch out, Ernie and Ruby!)

Though my cocktail of choice will always be a gin and tonic, I've been experimenting with mojitos lately. Dave had about a third of a jug of clear Bacardi rum kicking around, and part of my tendency toward neatness is to figure out ways to use things up. So I found some bottles of mojito mix at the liquor store for 99 cents apiece. I will never be a big fan of rum, but they're not bad drinks. Maybe I'll pour some of those this evening as we cook and watch the snow! I'll pretend I'm in the Caribbean!

(Photo: Some daffodils we bought at Shop-Rite, blooming on our windowsill.)

Being Down with Being Down

"According to the cosmology of Thomas Moore, it's OK to be complicated. It's OK to be sad, too. Being 'normal' doesn't really do much for anyone except deaden the connection to the soul. Being present, according to Thomas Moore, means being aware not only of what's right in front of your face, but also hanging out with memories, hopes, worries, and the imagination, all of which accompany us every second of every day."

I don't know anything about Thomas Moore, but I so appreciated these words, written yesterday by my blog sister Reya. I am very bad at being sad. I often push away "negative" feelings such as sadness or anger, believing them to be unproductive or harmful. I come from the "if you can't say something nice" school of thought, whereby only "positive" expressions are allowed, even to myself.

It's bizarre, because this impulse runs so contrary to my Buddhist practice (such that it is these days). Zen emphasizes being in the moment, feeling what's there and not turning away from it. Even though I understand that on an intellectual level, being there, really being, is hard.

The other day, Dave was talking about some classroom issues that have him stressed out. He turned to me and said, "What stresses you out, anyway? You're never stressed." I said I could be situationally stressed, such as when I'm driving down the New Jersey Turnpike and my gas tank contains only fumes (which in fact happened to us just a day or two earlier), but that I wasn't easily stressed on a deeper level.

That's not really true, though. I am stressed by my joblessness, my hazy future, my neither-here-nor-there living conditions. I just don't readily allow myself to see the stress, or to express it. I keep going to the gym and try to do useful stuff around the house, to maintain a sense of control and self-worth. (I guess this is probably pretty common among the jobless.)

That control, though, can be soul-deadening. If I'm honest with myself, I've been feeling down lately. I miss the city and the creative spark it gives me -- it's honestly hard to keep up my level of daily activity and creativity here in the 'burbs. There's just not as much stimuli. Also, so many of my habits have changed -- I'm eating more red meat and ice cream, sitting less, watching more television -- and I miss some aspects of the "old me." I think perhaps I need to be more conscientious about staying in touch with myself, and making sure I get into the city more often.

And I need to let myself be down now and then, if that's how I honestly feel. I'm alive, and I need to experience my life, whatever it may be!

(Photo: VFR in Chinatown, on Monday.)

Slacker

As you can tell, I'm feeling a bit lazy about posting these days! There hasn't been a whole heck of a lot going on around here, so I haven't exactly been holding back. But I thought I better put a post up just to let the world know I'm still around.

It's rainy today, but nonetheless I've been enjoying the weather lately because it seems vaguely spring-like. Something about the light during the past week seemed to change -- the intensity, the angle, something. The sun seemed brighter, the air softer. Even the rain is nice, washing away the accumulated snow and revealing the grass once again. (I know the dogs are happy about that -- they no longer have to leap through the snow like gazelles.)

I was in the city yesterday to get an old filling replaced -- it was an old amalgam filling that I got at least 20 years ago, one of only two in my mouth, and frankly I was happy to get rid of it. Fortunately the procedure was very mild and took only about 30 minutes. (And I still have health insurance to pay for it -- yay!) After the filling I went walking, and took some nice photos in Chinatown and Tribeca.

Dave and I went in Friday to get his auto registration updated and get him a New Jersey driver's license. But it turns out he needs a birth certificate or a passport to prove his identity -- he has neither readily available -- and his old license from Michigan isn't sufficient. (This must have something to do with homeland security, though I imagine your average Somali terrorist would have no trouble faking a birth certificate if need be.) Anyway, we were stymied in our efforts and now we have to get the appropriate documentation before we can go back. Bureaucracy!

(Photo: Wall in the East Village, last week.)

Dave's Work Here Is Done

The other day, I ordered dog tags for Dave's dogs. Nothing special -- just little stainless steel bone-shaped tags that give their names and Dave's name and address. The dogs had no ID, and I thought it would be wise to get them some in the unlikely event that they get lost. (They spend 23 hours of every day on the couch.)

When I told Dave about the tags, he laughed and said I'd once written in my blog that although I grew up with dogs, I would always be a cat person. I don't remember writing that phrase, but it sounds like something I might have said. In any case, he teased me and said I needed to write a blog post titled "Dave's Work Here is Done," expressing my full conversion to dogdom.

Personally, I think this dichotomy -- dog person vs. cat person -- is a false construction. You can be both, right? An animal person? Still, I'll let Dave have the title.

We took the dogs to the vet the day before yesterday to get them caught up on shots and get their local license tags. Now they're legal dogs! I'm sure they're relieved.

(Photo: Shadow on the wall at Penn Station, last week.)

Change of Plans

I came into town early yesterday for my job interview, got myself
cleaned up and was just putting on my suit when I got a call from the
interviewer. Seems he forgot Monday was a holiday when he scheduled
our meeting, and he wasn't in the office! So we rescheduled for today.
Minor inconvenience at most.

I spent yesterday walking around Harlem and the East Village taking
photos. Had a great time, and wore out my walking legs after spending
so many hours reclining in the burbs!

Finished my David Sedaris book. Hilarious! I kept looking for bits to
excerpt here, but it's hard to get the full effect from just a few
lines out of context!

(Photo: Artificial palm tree on Third Avenue, several weeks ago.)