How Does Sutter Do That?

    I have always known the power of television. Yet, never have I known the power of television in the sense I had discovered most recently through - WAIT FOR IT - Sons of Anarchy. Last night, they killed one of the main characters. And though I hated this man with all my might, it was weirdly heartbreaking. HOW DO THEY DO THAT? My whole twitter blew up like it does every week. People are way too passionate about this show, myself included, with their Team Tara/Team Gemma nonsense, (TEAM GEMMA!) the amount of time they spend really truly hating a character, the amount of time they spend mourning over a character, (RIP Opie) and talking about the show in every day life like all these people and story lines are real. I do all of these things and I'm glad to say, I'm not alone.

    I went to Asbury Park last week for the Sons for Sandy event. Theo Rossi, Kim Coates, Katey Sagal, and the genius himself, Kurt Sutter were there. I could not at all believe the people that showed up. There were people of all ages from all over who came to see them. There was a lady in line behind me with her oxygen tank. They did a question and answer session, and this older couple got in line to ask Kurt a question. It was like my Nana and Grandpa or Noni and Grandpa getting in line to ask Kurt Sutter a question. I was mind blown - as Sutter often leaves you. 

    They showed up the next episode before it aired and I wish I could watch it with 2,000 other fans every week. People yelling and cheering and CRAZINESS. Yelling at the people they wanted dead, yelling for the people they love, laughing at the Nero/Unser dynamic. It was awesome. So then, watching that episode on Tuesday in my living room felt empty. The episode didn't have the magic it did when I watched it with all the other SOA fans. They're all nuts. So am I. How great is that.

                                                    Sorry, iPhone pictures suck

     I spend my week on my twitter timeline with my SOA friends trying to figure out what the heck is going to happen next. Where is Sutter going to take it? And when we think we've come up with this great idea - he goes a whole different direction. Every week, we are shocked. ESPECIALLY last night. That look through the blinds was like a bullet to my heart. 

      You become so invested in every character. It's hard to see them go. And then it's even harder to remind yourself - hey, this isn't actually real life. I'm one of those irrational people Kurt was talking about because Gemma is my favorite character - she's so cold and evil but I love her, she's a queen - and if she dies (which is Sutter sticks to the Hamlet arc, will happen) I will be a wreck. I'll probably have to take some time off from my life to re-cooperate. But, really, think about it. How cool is that? Someone is just writing this fictional story and people treat it like it's real life.  That is just amazing to me. HOW DOES SUTTER DO THAT? It's incredible. It's incredible storytelling - and directing and acting and editing. But the story comes first. Props, Kurt.

This is Your Wake Up Call

    I'm not sure where my writing inspiration has been lately, but it's left the building.

    Anywho -

    I was thinking about something the other day that has now been bothering me ever since. There's things that have not existed forever, I know. I'm sure my little cousins can't IMAGINE the world without iphones or ipads or ipods or iwhatevers but I lived through that time where those things didn't exist.

    However, I've always had an alarm clock in my life.

    I don't know exactly when the alarm clock was invented. I tried to look it up on Wikipedia but there was a whole lotta reading - going back to Plato's days. I saw some things about water alarms (I don't know either) and clock towers. (Did the clock towers wake up the entire town? I don't know either.) But seriously, what did people do before alarm clocks? I picture all these people in an old timey town - girls with their awesome big dresses and men with their weird baseball-like pants and navy jackets - prancing around their non-paved street and tiny little wooden homes town and waking up whenever the heck they want.

    Did they just begin their day whenever they woke up? My sister suggested that maybe they had someone who would go around and wake everyone up. But then, how would that guy wake up? I asked my twitter followers and someone said a rooster. I guess in your little wooden home you could definitely hear a rooster. Cock a doodle doo.

    Then I started thinking - how did they know what time it is during the day? Yeah sundials and all. But how would you describe that?
    "Hey, what time is it, John Smith?"
    "Shadow's at the 2/16 of the dial, Paul Revere."

     It's much easier to say 2:00. If that's what 2/16 of the shadow or whatever is. At least they had no TVs in those days so they didn't have to worry about what time their show was on. Plus, I'd imagine having your clock outside is pretty inconvenient. As inconvenient as the word "inconvenient." I can never ever spell that right.

     If anyone really knows what people did before alarm clocks, I'd like to know because what if you couldn't afford a rooster? Or lived in a city? Did big cities exist in those days? Was it normal to have a rooster in big cities in those days? Who knows?

SHUTDOWN

I was with the rest of the nation last night tuning into Dick Clark's Government Shutdown Rockin' Eve hosted by Ryan Seacrest, counting down to the first government shutdown in 17 years. It seems as if Congress is taking the end of Breaking Bad pretty...badly. Though this is a serious situation, my Twitter friends and I were having a ball with it. It was fairly entertaining. And what's even better is that right at midnight, Lifetime began showing Hocus Pocus. Best government shutdown ever!
Also at midnight, Google changed their header to a collage for Yosemite National Park for its 123rd anniversary. Hilarious much? It's the park's 123rd anniversary, and congratulations! SHUTDOWN.
Anyway, I saw many "myths" going around about what will happen during a government shutdown. I'll let you decide which are myths and which are facts.

No mail service.
The reflection pool will be drained and turned in a skate park.
Free HBO Go accounts.
No more student loans!
Sarah Palin's view of Russia will be blocked.
All copies of National Treasure will be ceased.
Joe Biden's hair and makeup team declared "super-essential."
Abe Lincoln will leave his chair.
In an effort to balance the budget, postal service will increase cost of a first class stamp to 16.8 trillion dollars.
Who you gonna call? Not the Ghostbusters. They've been SHUTDOWN.
Big Bird will be put on leave.
Mitt Romney's car elevator will be SHUTDOWN.
Obamacare will be delayed.
The National Zoo animals' paychecks will be delayed.
Ted Cruz will be giving toasts at every wedding.
Air traffic controllers will be allowed nap time.
No more re-runs of The West Wing will be shown until further notice.
You will know longer be able to use the "John Hancock" phrase.
The Illuminati will begin takeover.
The heads on Mount Rushmore will roll off like that meatball on top of your spaghetti all covered in cheese.


Ok, none of those are actually true. But really, we can shut down the government and we still can't give that silly rabbit some Trix? This is absurd.

Crushing Candy

    I have to address an important issue that has come about in today's society.

    It is taking over the lives of many people I love and I hate to see what it does to them.

    Up all night, cursing, screaming, frustrated, thinking you won't be able to move on....

    I have sadly fallen into it as well.

    Candy Crush.

I finally beat level 125 on Candy Crush. I was stuck on it forever. I cried tears of joy.

    But I am Erica...and I am addicted to Candy Crush.

    I started playing a short time after the Christmas of 2012. Right away, I was hooked. That wonderful feeling you get when you combine a striped candy with the sprinkle donut ball...uhhhhh so good. I would be up all night every night crushing candy. No sleep was needed. No work needed to be done. It would all get put off for the magical world of Candy Crush.

    Even if I tried to put the game down for a minute, I would still be playing it in my head. I would put Paddy my iPad down at night and I would see the candy in my head. I would make the moves in my head. I did not care about anything or anyone else. Just crushing that candy.

    Level 65 was a rough time for me. I found myself slamming my iPad down, wanting to throw it out the window or break it in half. It caused a violent streak in me that I never want to go back to. Poor Paddy was abused and I did not mean it at all. Candy Crush just makes you do things you don't want to do.

    For instance, spend 99 cents on 5 extra moves. 

    Around June of 2013, I rid myself of my Candy problem. I was back to normal. I was sleeping at night. I was functioning normally during the day. I wasn't calling my friends at 3AM asking them for more lives. I wasn't seeing Candy Crush boards in my head when I wasn't playing the game. Everything was back to normal.

    Then one day, someone asked me to help them with a level. I did not want to, but I couldn't help myself. It was right there. I had to do it. I beat the level on the first try and the high was back.

I was one month clean and I had thrown it all away in an instant. Major relapse back into a life I had once known and tried so hard to rid myself of.

    Now I'm back to late nights, crushing candy, bothering my Facebook friends for lives, getting EXTREMELY frustrated when I miss a chance to match 5 candies and make the sprinkle donut thing, and abusing Paddy. Someone I work with even posted a picture on my Facebook wall of a sign outside a building which read "Candy Crush Rehab." I am back to that dark place.

     This post is my cry for help.

     Help to unlock the next episode.

Noni's Porch

    My family and I joke that we should write a sitcom based on our lives and entitle it "Noni's Porch." Because I'll tell you, my Noni's porch is where it all happens. (see post: My Life is a Sitcom)
    I've had some of the best times on that porch.
    I enjoy sitting with my Noni on her porch. If I didn't have anything else to do, I'll do it all the time. We sit there watching the planes landing in Avoca, observing the cars that come by, and watching all the neighbors and their daily shenanigans. Sit on that porch for a few hours and you will learn so much about everyone on that street, it's unbelievable. Sit on that porch with Noni for a few hours and you will learn those people's life stories.
    That's what I love the most about it.
    Other people's life stories.
    I like looking into other people's lives.
    I once read this book by Maya Angelou. I cannot remember really anything about it including the title, but a girl was with her grandma and they were walking along the streets of a busy city and the grandmother told her to look beyond the faces of all those people because each one of them has a story. I have never looked at people the same way since.
People walk by Noni's porch and some say hello and some just go about their business. I learn who's married to who, who divorced who, whose kids are who, whose grandkids are whose, where all their relatives live, who has a drug problem, who has a mother-in-law problem, who has problems with the other neighbors, whose dog likes whose dog, who has what kind of car, who throws slippers down the toilet.....an array of things that I find fascinating. I don't really know these people. There's a few if I saw out, I would say hello to. The rest probably have no idea who I am.
But then, I sit there and wonder. When Noni sees someone go by, she'll say, "oh that's so and so's granddaughter." I wonder if when I drive by someone on their porch if they say, "oh, that's Mary's granddaughter." It fascinates me.
    And Noni seems to know every thing about everyone. I reallyyyy get a good look into these people's lives.
    Tonight Noni and I sat out there for a while, waving to cars going by, talking about the neighbors, watering the tomato plants, watching the planes come in, and catching some fireworks from all over town. It was better to me than being out doing anything else. She has the TV on in her room and we turn the volume up loud enough so we can hear it. Saturday nights = the Pennsylvania Polka on WVIA.
    It brings me back to when I was younger and I went to Noni's every day. I'd get there and eat my cereal and Noni would sit in her front room and watch TV. The channel always stayed on WYOU. We'd watch The Price is Right and then I'd eat my lunch during the afternoon news. Then I'd go down for my nap while Noni watched her stories. I'd wake up and Montel would be on or I'd catch the end of As the World Turns, and before you knew it, it was dinner time. Noni would be yelling to the other side of the house for my Grandpa. I can hear it perfectly. "IACER, DINNER! COME ON LET'S GO!" And Grandpa would come in and sit in his chair and would change the channel on the little TV in the kitchen. Dinner was not complete without the M*A*S*H theme song in the background. I can still see it so perfectly.
    Some days when it was nice out, we'd sit on her porch where she had the little TV with the antennas. She'd watch her stories on that little black and white TV and I'd sit on the swing or play on my bike or with my Barbies. And she'd sit there and wave hello to who ever passed by. Sometimes we had some visitors, like Rosie across the street or Bonnie down the street, or Joyce down the other street. The same few people who still come around today when Noni and I are sitting out there. They'd come up and talk for hours and we'd learn even more about the rest of the neighbors' stories.
    I'm a lot like my Noni in many many ways. But I think we are definitely both alike in that we like talking to other people and learning about other people. Maybe that's why she's loved her TV "stories" so much. Soap operas are a direct look into people's lives. Pretty dramatic ones, but whatever, still a look into a whole heck of a lot of people and the way they live.
    And maybe that's why now, when I babysit my little cousin and put her down for a nap I find myself watching those "stories," though only our Young and the Restless and Bold and the Beautiful are left.
    Maybe this is also why I feel old.
    But times on that porch with my Noni are some of the best times.
    And she's just like that grandma in Maya Angelou's story. She looks beyond the faces of these people. And now, so do I.

Colors of the World! ___ Up Your Life!

    I've been having a lot of those "I feel really old" moments. I'm not a fan of it. At all really. It makes me feel like I'm on a whole different level from some people. And it's not like this has just happened to me once or twice recently, but like 100 times a day. I can't recall ever having an "I feel old" moment in my lifetime. All of a sudden it was like "OLD."
    I'm really not that old. I'm 20. But all of a sudden, I feel it....the oldness.
    I was playing taboo with my sister and the word was "Spice." So, obviously, I said, "Colors of the world, ____ up your life!" She looked at me like I was a Martian. It was my first real "I feel old" moment. I couldn't even continue to give her clues. I was dumbfounded. She really doesn't know the lyrics to a Spice Girls song? How could this be? When did this happen? Everyone knows the Spice Girls right? Every boy and every girl, SPICE up your life! How could she not know that? This is common knowledge. When did I become my grandmother? How in the Spiceworld am I going to get through life now knowing there are people who don't know Spice Girls lyrics roaming around this Earth? Why won't the Spice Girls get back together? Who am I?
It was an awful moment in which I have pondered many days and nights.
    Just the other day, I was playing Heads Up! (which, by the way, Ellen DeGeneres, is a fabulous app. I love your work. Put me on TV.) with my cousins and aunts and uncles and sisters and mother and who ever, and I picked the Just for Kids category. A thing called "Wonder Pets" came up. What in the world is a Wonder Pet? Does it pick up after itself? Does it lack bad smells? Does it not shed? How WONDERful would a pet like that be? Well, apparently, it's just a silly toy.....that I had never heard of. OLD.
    I keep thinking this old thing will pass, but in my heart I know, it will only get worse and I will have to get used to it. In the mean time, I'll be sure to educate the younger generation on the Spice Girls and, ya know, Barbie. (since she's not politcally correct and all and teaching us bad things or whatever) BARBIE IS THE QUEEN.
     Anyway, my rant on Barbie haters can be a whole other blog post...or book.
     Be sure to Spice Up Your Life today.
     Every boy and every girl, spice up your life.
     Never give up on the good times, livin it up is a state of mind.
     If you want my future, forget my past.
     Get down, get deeper and down. Saturday niight.
     All that I want from you is a promise you will be thereee.
     Slow down, baby, gotta have some fuunn.
    I remember when the first NOW! CD came out. I saw NOW! 45 in Walmart the other day. Holy old. You know what was on the first NOW! CD? My favorite Spice Girls song, "Say You'll Be There." See one of the lines of lyrics above.
    NOW! 45. Wrap your head around that.
    I remember when it was 37 cents to get on the Turnpike. It's now like... a dollar. I feel like I'm a part of an elite group of people when I drive the turnpike any more. That's a buttload of money to drive on a road for a little while...and then to go farther, you have to pay another dollar. Crazy stuff right there.
    37 cents.
    Thank God for the EZ Pass.
    And now I sound like every old person in the book.
    Oh wait, in my day, I walked through ten feet of snow, uphill both ways, just to get to school.
    There, now I sound like every old person in the book.
     

A Night on Drugs

   (For more dramatic effect, listen to the above song while reading)   
    Have you ever seen a movie that has left you speechless? I have.
    I can think of a few movies in which I couldn't say one word after. Precious (based on the novel Push by Sapphire), The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, United 93, Schindler's List....and that's all I can think of at the moment. But tonight, I took an accidental nap and woke up at 9PM and decided to watch a movie. I've had this movie on my list for years, I just haven't gotten around to it. Now that I have, I don't know if I can ever go back to it.
    I just finished Requiem for a Dream. I have never read the book and I can't even imagine what the book is like, but I knew the movie would be top notch. And it was. It is so incredibly well done. The acting is really just outstanding. Ellen Burstyn really becomes Sara Goldfarb. I was blown away by the whole thing. I was also incredibly scared.
    If you've never heard of the film or read the book, the story surrounds 4 people living in the New York area who develop or have developed drug addictions.
    This movie is rated R, but if you want to scare the crap out of your kids from using drugs, this is the movie. It creates an incredibly real picture of life as an addict and how SPOILER ALERT drugs kill your dreams...and therefore eventually kill you.
     It just amazes me how a simple two hours of staring at my television screen can change my life forever, make me look at everything in a completely different way.
    Burstyn's character is an avid television watcher. (sound familiar?) She gets a phone call saying she has been selected to be on a television show. She immediately drags out her red dress and tries to slip into to prepare for her TV debut. The dress does not fit. She decides to try some different diets, but when none of them work, she sees a doctor who gives her a prescription for diet pills. (IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE MOVIE WITHOUT SPOILERS, SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH) She becomes hopelessly addicted to them and destroys her life and her dream of being on television, while unbeknownst (that's a silly word) to her, her son has a heroin addiction that is essentially killing him. There is a scene toward the end of the film where Burstyn's character goes to the television producers and asks them when she is going to be on television. She goes on and on about her red dress and her son and her deceased husband. It is heart wrenching and fabulously real, which is the scariest part.
        I'd imagine playing a role like that has to screw a person up in some ways for a little bit of time, too.
        It is now 3AM. There is no way I can sleep after that film. And no way I'll probably ever be able to watch it again. The ending is so incredibly powerful that it hurts my head. Most of the movies I listed earlier, probably with the exception of Precious, I could watch again. I don't see myself watching Requiem again any time in the next 30 years.
        I'm just amazed that something so powerful and so real....isn't actually real. It's acting. It's direction. It's a made up story with some real life elements. It is truly art. I haven't seen a really actually terribly good movie in a long time and I didn't realize it until I watched this one tonight. I remember what movies are about and what they can do, as well as what a good film looks like. Think of a movie that's brought you to tears or left you speechless. Think about how those films have made you look at your own life, have changed you in ways.
         I'd like to be in a movie. Not like. I'd LOVE to be in a movie or two or ten. A movie that could make people laugh when they are feeling low, or leave an audience speechless, or have them crying over my death or my incredible recovery from an injury to become a star soccer player. A movie that will inspire someone to blog about it like I'm doing right now. Hopefully someone important is reading this and will just shoot me an email and ask me to be in a movie. ;)
      ANYWAY
      I'm in awe of what a movie can accomplish and reminded of what inspired me to jump into the communications and film world. Movies and television provide enough escape from your life. Don't kill your dreams with heroin. (Erica's Lesson of the Day)

Bring in the Dancing Lobsters

I don't know what it's like to be Amanda Bynes. I don't know what it's like to walk in her shoes. All I know is that I've looked up to her for years. She's a terribly funny person who created her own kid's version of Saturday Night Live. How freaking cool is that?

We may feel like we know her from what we read in the media everyday. And all that crap is what turns me off from my own possible profession. Every day someone is ripping her apart, reporting her mishaps and mistakes and downward spiral. And I can't help but think, are we creating that downward spiral?

Aren't we supposed to think about the person on the other side of the stories we report?

No one could possibly know the depths of her struggle. And yet, it's plastered all over every TV, newspaper, and website.  She is the butt of jokes on late night television and Twitter and Facebook. But just think, what if this was me? What if I was Amanda Bynes? Wouldn't seeing or hearing these things push me further down the path of destruction?

Amanda Bynes is 27 years old in a business that ensures no security to anyone.  Despite Hollywood, everyone (I don't care who you are) goes through a stage of confusion and doubt and loneliness, especially in their 20's. I have no idea where my life is going to go. And I'm sure Amanda Bynes feels the same way. Scared. Deep down, she is just like us. Erase the media crap around her and look a little deeper. You have a confused, talented 27 year old girl whose lost sight of herself and her goals.

She grew up in a bubble, the Hollywood bubble, which few people can handle, nevermind a child. She doesn't really know any other way of life. She never really had a childhood. She was always in the spotlight. Maybe this could be what has done her in.

We truly don't know.

She has a mental disorder. She needs help.

Yet, look at the history of what the media has done to celebrities with mental disorders like Amanda's.
Lindsay Lohan has been torn apart in the media for years for her drug and alcohol abuse and overall behavior. Amanda Bynes seems to be spiraling down a similar path. Britney Spears was ridiculed for her drug and alcohol abuse and overall behavior while going through what I assume was the toughest part of her life. They made fun of her. Charlie Sheen seemed to be almost praised for his behavior. There was so much hype around him and his live web chats and his "tour." How in the world can this help anyone?

These people are normal people, just like you and me. Their lives just get picked apart to no end.

Before you go making a stupid comment about someone, anyone, think. Think how it might affect them. Don't judge them. You've never taken a walk in their shoes. Be kind to everyone you meet, for they are all fighting a hard battle.


I know this isn't my usual kind of blog post, but I felt I needed to post my two cents. Now we might as well bring in the dancing lobsters!

Twister

I was at my Noni's tonight when I saw the footage from Oklahoma for the first time today. I can't even imagine what these people must be going through.

I'm in NEPA. We rarely see this kind of action. Yet, I remember when I was little, like...1st grade....we had a tornado watch. I didn't really know what exactly a tornado was. Once, my mom and dad were watching the movie Twister and it scared me half to death. Then I went inside during this tornado watch and on the screen was a real life scene from Twister. From that day forward, I was deathly afraid of tornadoes. I couldn't sleep at night because I would worry about a tornado coming. This went on for years. I would hear thunder and I would think TORNADO.

Then one day I actually sat down and watched a Storm Stories marathon on the Weather Channel for a good 12 hours. This was the start to my "I want to be a meteorologist" phase. The only channel I ever watched was The Weather Channel. I was in 3rd or 4th grade. I watched The Weather Channel 24/7. This might tell you what kind of kid I was....and the kind of weird person I am. Anyway, this Storm Stories marathon inspired me. Not only did I want to be a meteorologist, I wanted to be a storm chaser. This was the beginning to my adrenaline junkie phase that hasn't ended yet. Then once I actually watched the movie Twister and all I wanted was to be Helen Hunt in that movie. That movie became my bible.

That might be an exaggeration.

Then I hit the 6th grade, when we began to learn the nitty gritty stuff of meteorology. That was the end of my "I want to be a meteorologist" phase.

 Yet, the adrenaline junkie phase still lives on. I would tag along with a storm chaser in a heart beat. I'd chase a tornado myself. A small one. In NEPA. Near a mountain that would kill it. Since the path of a twister can really change at any second, I'd like to be with professionals who knew what they were doing.

I've got CNN (found my remote) on right now and all I can think is "I want to be Helen Hunt in Twister." Why didn't I follow those storm chaser dreams? Why can't I like science more? I can't even imagine a mile wide tornado. A MILE. That's huge. But Helen Hunt dealt with one in the movie Twister. And right now, I'm kind of wishing I was a storm chaser, out there following that twister and figuring out the science behind it. How on Earth did it stay on the ground for 40 minutes? How can we better predict it and warn the people sooner?

Finally, I'd like to say, I'd like to get caught up in the eye of the twister and survive like Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton.

Also, someone on CNN just said it was exactly like the movie Twister. There were cows flying around and cars. Crazy.

God bless the people of Oklahoma.
You can help the people of Oklahoma by donating to the Red Cross. Text REDCROSS to 90999.

The Real Crisis Today

Ok, I think it's time to address the big issue we're all facing today.

Television remotes.

Ten years ago, I had one television clicker. When I hit the power button, the TV turned on right away. If I wanted to change the channel, I hit the channel up or down button. If I wanted to change the volume, I hit the volume up or down button.

Now, there are 4 remotes by my bed side. I pick up the Vizio remote to turn the TV on. It takes agood 45 seconds for the TV to turn on, so if you walk in your house at 8:59:15 on a Sunday night just in time (or so you think) for the Celebrity Apprentice, you are screwed. You will miss the very beginning. Then, if the TV is on the wrong channel, forget it. You can't just hit the channel button on that remote. You have to dig for the Comcast remote to change the channel. And when you change the channel, if it's too loud, you then have to find the Universal remote you purchased in Walmart to change the volume. If I lose the Vizio remote, I can't turn the TV on or off. Then I live by the sleep timer on the universal remote...if the TV was on when I lost the Vizio remote. This new TV doesn't have buttons on it so if I lose any remotes, I'm dead. And this is my crisis right now. My channel has been stuck on NBC for 2 weeks. NBC of all channels, (no offense to NBC, but you're failing) and I can't change it. So last night, while I was watching the Celebrity Apprentice finale, I wanted to flip channels on commercials to the Billboard Music Awards. So to "flip channels" I had to run into my sisters' room. I certainly got my exercise for a week.
Then, downstairs on the nice big TV we have one of the HD boxes. I have everything programed on one remote, but when you hit the "All On" button, the TV might come on, but the box and the sound bar will not. Or...the box will come on, but the TV will not. Then it's all out of sync until you hit the button 100 times and they all finally turn on at once. Then, at night when you turn the TV/Box/Sound bar "off," you come down in the morning only to notice the TV was all night, but you would never know because the box and the sound bar turned off so it's just a black screen. See, I though technology was supposed to make things easier. Why has it made my TV viewing experience terribly complicated?





I joke about my "real" crisis, but I realize I am terribly lucky today. Prayers to Oklahoma and everyone in the path of those storms.

Questions to Ponder

I often have trouble sleeping at night....or concentrating on anything. I've figured out why but I don't know how to stop it. My mind races with all these questions I want the answers to, but I don't know where to look for those answers. I figure, maybe you all can help.

Is there actually a doctor named Dr. Pepper?
If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, then why is there a song about it?
You know that kid's show Martha Speaks? Who names their dog Martha?
Why aren't I famous yet?
Why did Yankee Doodle name the feather in his hat "Macaroni?"
Is there an actual Sesame Street?
On that theme, why does everyone forget about Grover because he is the funniest Sesame Street character?
How come when I put something down somewhere it magically hops to somewhere else and then I can't find it?
Is my memory just bad? It shouldn't be because I watch GSN.
If a woman becomes President, what do we call her husband? First Man? 
If you get "half scared to death" twice, then what happens?
Why do Sauna Pants exist?
How does a Real Estate company sell its office without causing confusion?
Along those lines....how do you throw away a garbage can?
You know when you're listening to a song and you think you know the words but they're not close at all? Does an artist sing different words to just mess us up?
Why is the TV telling me it's great to be a worm right now?
Why is Fox News still a thing?
Why are some people such butt heads?
Can you cry under water?
Why is it that on a phone or calculator the number five has a little dot on it? and the F and J keys on the keyboard?
When does murder become assassination?
How were sports invented? There's so many rules. Who has that kind of time?
Or card games? I love sports and card games but who has time to think of all these things with all these rules and these scoring methods and all that other crap?
Why is football called football? In every other country they call soccer "football." So why couldn't we have just done that called football "soccer?"
Why is a strike bad in baseball but good in bowling?
If you have braces and you die, do they bury you with your braces on?
 Why do Atheists exist? Because if there is a God, you've ruined all chances of making it into Heaven. Give yourself a little leeway.
Religion again...If every religion says, "if you don't believe in our religion, you're going to Hell," then doesn't everybody just go to Hell?
What's with the Easter bunny and eggs? A bunny does not lay eggs. Unless I missed that day in school.
How do you perform a Citizen's Arrest? (ok this one I could research but a. I'm too lazy and 2. I usually don't think about it until I'm almost asleep.)
My mom always says things like, "you know....they say..." or "you know what they say..." WHO ARE THEY?
Who came up with the name Oogie Pringle?
Sliced bread is great and all, but why don't we say, "That's the best thing since television?"

Life's Struggles

I've come across many struggles in life. Death, depression, addiction (to candy crush), missing my TV shows...you get the idea. But one of the biggest and most annoying is the struggle I constantly have with my closet. There's simply not enough room. I've collected 20 years worth of stuff in a 2 by some other small number space. I have dressers galore. My closet has every kind of organizing pinterest trick you can imagine. Still, some clothes just have to be stored on the floor.
I wish I was Carrie Bradshaw in the Sex and the City movie. She gets this gorgeous apartment in Manhattan with Big and then she gets a PERFECT closet. I fantasize about the day all of those things happen to me. But especially the closet part.
I also have a slight shopping addiction. Ok it's not slight, it's huge. It's bad. It's a problem. If I am not rich AND I don't marry rich, I will have a problem. I figure may have to do with my small closet problem. But even if I don't really have a shopping addiction, I still could use a bigger closet. I have containers under my bed with clothes. I have clothes hanging on the back of my door. And you know what the big problem is? I don't wear half of it, yet when I go through it I think, "No I might wear this someday." Or something like, "As soon as I give this to the Sally, I will be looking for it." It always seems to work out that way. So then....I keep it. Stuff I haven't worn in years...or ever. It's still here in my room haunting me. "whyyyy did you buy me if you were never going to wear me?' "look at all this money wasteddddd" "you're just going to let me sit here in this crowded closet?"
I don't know if clothes have thoughts but that's what I imagine them to be.
Who am I kidding? Clothes don't have brains so they don't have thoughts.
What if things without brains could have thoughts?
Now I'm getting off topic.
The point here is....I need a separate room...or house...to use as a closet. It would make life much easier. You would actually be able to see my blue carpet instead of a somewhat blue carpet mixed with denim and green and purple and black and Lilly Pulitzer prints. It is a constant struggle between me and my closet and my clothes and possibly my shopping addiction. I know the solution: get rich and build a bigger closet. But the getting rich part seems to be harder than I expected so if any of you have a faster solutions, suggestions are greatly appreciated.

We Are the Only Species That Laughs

I never expected to be inspired, awed, and lifted tonight when I went to see Joan Rivers. She is really truly hilarious. Yes, she can be offensive. But I think this world needs to lighten up. Her off color remarks had me tearing with laughter. I got an ab workout during the show, better than any other workout I've ever done. And she recommends laughter as a workout. Who doesn't like to laugh?
You know what she said yo me at the end? (Not necessarily just to me but it felt like it) She said, "We are the only species that laughs." She's right. It's a gift we've been given. You don't see cows laughing. Or dogs. No matter what you may think. We are the only species that laughs.
Joan talked about her life. The ups and downs, the cruelness (idk if that's a word) and fabulousness of show business and just how hard it was to get to now. She is almost 80 years old. She's still going. But it wasn't all fun and games. It took her 7 years to get noticed. She worked on shows as a comedy writer. A woman comedy writer. Unheard of in those days. Even after she had established herself, she struggled. After her husband committed suicide, someone told her that no one would laugh at a woman whose husband had just committed suicide. She fell backwards. Back to being a nobody. Then E! put her on the red carpet and she spoke those fabulous words "Who are you wearing?" Suddenly, Joan was back.
She made fun of countless celebrities, even some people in the audience during the Q&A. I raised my hand and stood up to ask her a question but the microphone dudes never came to my rescue. I even had a crowd of gay men behind me trying to help. No luck. But she was inspiring. She reminded me of myself in weird ways.
She talked about how she always knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Show business. She called it "luck." She never had to ponder, "what do I want to do with my life?" She knew. And she said, once you know, put your blinders on and take that road. Don't worry about other people. It's your life. Live it.
She was fabulously entertaining and wonderfully inspiring. Not exactly what I expected from Joan, but exactly what I needed.

Whoaaa Nelly! What a Great Idea!

I know I haven't posted in a while. I haven't been inspired. But today, I was inspired. A little maybe. We'll see how this goes...
I come up with these great ideas.
At least, I think they are great ideas.
I want a pet dolphin.
I'm totally against dolphins and captivity and all that jazz and if you're not, go watch The Cove. But anyways, it's a nice dream.
I could buy an ocean and put my pet dolphin Nelly in it. I would play with Nelly and swim with her and we would have a great time. Eventually, I'd have to buy her some dolphin friends but buying an ocean is going to put a dent in my checkbook.
I'd buy a boat so I can take Nelly for a swim like people take their dogs for walks. I'd put her on a leash and I'd sit in the boat and she could just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming swimming swimming. Not too far though because then I'd probably get lost and my boat probably won't be that big because ya know, the whole buying an ocean thing but whatever. And when Nelly pulls on the leash like a dog, I can yell "Whoaaaa Nellyyyy!"
This whole idea came to me as I was driving to Seaside Heights and saw all the boats in the marina before you go over the bridge. And dolphins are my favorite animals so that's my obvious pet choice.
I also like killer whales also known as orcas. My pet killer whale would be like Free Willy. A nice whale. One of my best friends really. I haven't picked a name for my whale yet because I don't want to get too excited if I can't afford him/her, but maybe a name like....Kim Kardashian.
I have a lot of other great ideas, like turning the roads into waterways and making everyone kayak everywhere. We'd all be in mad shape, but it would take a lot longer to get places. I also realize there's a lot of other holes in that idea. I'll work on it.
I can't remember my other great ideas. Maybe they weren't so great. Or maybe I'm like Dory and I can't remember things.
I'm going to start writing every idea down. There must be an app for working out great ideas. If there's not, I'm going to make one. What a great idea.

2 Weeks Left of this No Potato Existence

Ok, so I cheated. I ate French fries on Parade Day. They convinced me it was a holiday and so it didn't count. I also ate potatoes at dinner tonight. But the plan was to have tacos for dinner. Then it snowed and my car's in a ditch and I ended up at Noni's and she was having potatoes for dinner so I ate them.
But other than these two incidents, I have not eaten potatoes. Even if that Sunday rule does exist, I still have not eaten a potato on a Sunday. FOr the full 40 days or whatever, I've tried very hard to go sans potato. Now, I only have two weeks left. I will not eat another potato until Easter, when I will eat all the potatoes in the land...covered in cheese. Probably. Just a guess.

Age is Really Just a Number

    Something major hit me today. So major, I don't know how to deal with it. I realized I'm just a really old person trapped in a 20 year old's body. I'm babysitting for my little cousin, like I do every Thursday. I put her down for her nap and switched the channel from Sesame Street to The Bold and the Beautiful. I've turned into my grandmother. I went from spending my days sleeping till noon and going out with my friends all the time to waking up early and watching soap operas and reading Danielle Steele books. (Which, by the way, if you haven't read Johnny Angel, you're missing out. It's my favorite book) There was no middle ground. It just went from high school to old. I haven't hit retirement home stage yet, although I'm looking forward to it.

    I can tell you exactly what's going on in the CBS soaps. (they should bring back As the World Turns. just a side note) I could tell you who in the world Brooke is married to today and how everyone's lives have changed after SPOILER ALERT: Stephanie's death. I play Slot games. I am addicted to Bingo. Too addicted. It's scary. The Vegas Bingo app kills me. I sit there and play it all day. I should just start crocheting too. I'm surprised I haven't learned yet. I haven't gotten into the Alfred Dunner clothing yet.

    When I was little, I used to go to my Noni's everyday. Everyday I'd eat my cereal and watch TV with Noni. At lunch, I always had peanut butter and jelly and we'd watch the Price is Right and the local news. Then it was nap time. I'd take a nap and Noni would watch her "stories." She never changed the channel at all. It was always on CBS. We'd watch Montel and MASH. Now, when I go visit Noni, it's pretty much the same. I stop by in between glasses and eat my sandwich and watch The Young and the Restless and the Bold and the Beautiful. Sometimes, I do actually take a nap during them. We watch Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown. On the weekends, she watches the Game Show Network. There's nothing else on TV, ya know. Granda is either working or sitting in his chair watching Dreamgirls. Dreamgirls is one of my favorite movies. Guess what? It's his favorite movie, too.

     Even if I escape this routine and do something else, it's still the same. I just switch to CNN and see what's happening in the world. I watch Hardball with Chris Matthews. I think, "hey, young people watch this stuff." Young people don't even know who Chris Matthews is. I go to my Nana's and what are they watching? Hardball with Chris Matthews. She and Grandpa watch it for completely different reasons, but it still applies. I sit there with them and Grandpa will talk about the fiscal cliff or what is it now? The sequester. Nana sits there and says, "That's a really nice tie he has on today. Jack, I'm gonna look for one like that for you."

     What's even better is that most of the time I enjoy conversations with my grandparents more than anyone else. They don't complain about stupid crap. They don't tell me pointless stories about how some person they're "in to" doesn't like them back. They don't talk about silly drama that they create themselves. WHO CARES? I don't. So I go to talk to my grandparents about ice cream, the news, our family, pasta sauce, family history, Parade Day, the On Demand feature on the television, suitcases, what Michelle Obama is wearing, Chris Matthews, Chinese food, Hillary's hair, Hillary's job, Hillary's pantsuits, Hillary's life, movies, basketball, Sharon Osbourne, good television, Walmart, and many other interesting and important things.

     This has become my own life. And I don't care. Life is great. Age is just a number. I feel like I'm at an advantage. I have the mind of an old folk, and the body of a 20 year old. DING DING. I win. On slotomania just now but also in real life. I am an old person. Or, as my twitter friend Sunny tells me, "You're an old soul in a young body."

I Love....Feet?

      There's a lot of things I don't understand. I don't understand gnats and why they have to exist. I don't understand when someone says "I don't watch a lot of TV." I don't understand why a bottle of water at the movie theaters has to cost $498,324,093,498. But what I really don't understand are a lot of people's career paths. Doesn't everyone want to have a glamorous job and be super rich and famous? That's the only way of life that makes any kind of sense to me. Don't they want to do something they love? I don't understand a love of math. or science. or cleaning teeth. I guess I can understand a passion for shaping the minds of today's youth aka teaching. I can understand having a passion for interior design or architecture. But a passion for....accounting? No offense to my father on that one. I can't picture my life as an average Joe-lene. (that's the female version of average Joe i just made up) I love television. So I want to be a part of television. Some people love...surgery? What? You love feet? I don't understand. Who loves feet so much that they want to be a foot doctor? Don't even get me started on proctologists. Although honestly, when I think of proctologists, I just hear Kramer in my head saying, "Cosmo Kramer, the Assman." Everything goes back to television. Television is so wonderful. Why doesn't everyone want to be on television? I'm glad that not everyone does because then it makes it a little easier and less competitive, but that doesn't mean I understand it. I'm glad people want to do these other jobs that I want no part of. That's fabulous. But what inspires them to do so?
      I watched ER with my mom all the time and thought I wanted to be a nurse. I watch Law & Order and I think I want to be a detective. I watch The Good Wife and I think I could be a lawyer. Heck, I watch Sons of Anarchy and think I want to be the Queen of a  motorcycle club. Maybe other people think like that too. I think I am lucky. I've realized, I don't actually want to be those things. I just want to pretend to be one of them on TV. Maybe all these doctors and nurses and dentists and detectives and lawyers and people involved in MCs just never realized that in real life those jobs are not as fun as they look on TV. And now, they're stuck being doctors and nurses and dentists and detectives and lawyers and members of an MC. Or maybe they actually wanted to be doctors or nurses or dentists or detectives or members of an MC. Who really knows? Not me. Maybe I'm just an anti-dentite.

POTATO UPDATE

I ate a potato. Not like an apple. I had some potato soup. And a french fry. (again, is the "French" in "french fry" supposed to be capitalized?) I was at work yesterday and the soup of the day was loaded potato. What a tease. But then I remembered my Aunt Janet saying that Sundays during Lent don't count. I'm not sure if that's a real rule or just a rule she made up, but I took advantage of it. So it's possible that my recent potato intake doesn't count. Now, this weekend is Parade Day and I always go to Kelly's on Parade Day. Last time I went to Kelly's, I resisted the urge to eat any potatoes so I'm confident this time. But then the following week is St. Paddy's Day and if my mom makes those cheesy potatoes, I might die. Although, I believe St. Paddy's Day falls on a Sunday this year so that might not count. My mother did make her garlic mashed potatoes one night and I did not eat any of them. If there's any leftover, I'm usually the only one who eats them and every day I opened the fridge and there they were, starring right at me. But I didn't eat them. Now I feel bad because no one ate them and they had to go in the garbage. I just shed a tear writing that sentence. It's such a shame. I can't even think about it. My poor potatoes being tossed out. This is too much for me. I just love potatoes.

Day 5 Sans the Potato

5 days without potatoes.
I almost broke it on Saturday. I was at Kelly's and I almost ordered french fries. I just totally forgot it was potatoes. and then i went to replace it with potato pancakes but i could only say "potato pan" before i realized....that's a potato.
My mom has been working with me. Instead of making potatoes, she makes noodles or rice. It's really fantastic. If she had made mashed potatoes, I would probably definitely cave. Yet, I've been surprised by my will power over the potato. We had some friends in from Maryland visiting over the weekend, so of course, we went out to eat a few times. We went to Coney Island. When everyone else is sitting around enjoying their French fries, I was struggling, trying to look away, trying not to think about the beautiful french fry covered in cheese. I didn't eat any. I couldn't believe it. Will power.
I went in to Mamma Mia's in Clarks Summit on Friday to pick up a pizza. They never sample things in there, but on this day, they were sampling a different kind of pizza. POTATO PIZZA. Such torture. I couldn't believe it. It was cheesy mashed potatoes on a pizza. How genius. But I resisted.
I apologize to my family if my mom keeps up the whole no cooking potatoes thing. Now I've dragged you into this sorta kinda cuz you all still were able to eat French fries at Coney Island and Kelly's the other day. By the way, is the "French" in french fry supposed to be capitalized? I'm not sure. Oh well.
Time to keep not eating potatoes.

The Fine China is Reserved for Oprah's Visit

We recently upgraded our cable package. 80 more channels plus HBO and a DVR (I know, we're a little behind). It's fantastic. And now, I'm extremely happy because Oprah has come back into my life through the OWN network. It's really fantastic to hear Oprah's voice in my living room again. It's soothing.
In the last few days, I've watching a lot of Oprah's Next Chapter from Beyonce to Cissy Houston to LL Cool J and Drew Barrymore and David Letterman. This afternoon, I watched one with Lady Gaga.
I am fascinated by Lady Gaga. She is sometimes so bizarre I just have to wonder where in the world her mind is. Sometimes, I just don't get her and it annoys the crap out of me. I just can't figure her out. This Oprah interview caught my eye. Maybe I could get an inside look as to what actually goes through Lady Gaga's mind. I did get a little glimpse into that. But it also got me thinking about other things.
Oprah came to Lady Gaga's house for this interview. I can't even imagine Oprah coming to my house. The cleaning spree it would send my mom on...it scares me just to think about it. She goes nuts cleaning before the plumber comes to the house. I can't even imagine Oprah. And then, Lady Gaga made Oprah tea. I feel like there is so much pressure there. It's like making tea for the Queen of England. Tea is her thing. It has to be absolutely positively 100 percent perfect. I don't really know if tea is Oprah's thing, but I would want to be as perfect as Queen Elizabeth's tea. They get to talking about Lady Gaga's mom's fine china, which Gaga has said she's never seen before! But of course, you have to break out the fine china for Oprah. If Oprah came to my house, I would use the fine china too. I hope it's fine enough. Oprah is at my house for Pete's sake. (who is Pete?) If Oprah came over, what would I even wear? Gaga had to get her nails done beforehand and then she said she had to pick out a nice suit. I would definitely get my nails done, but what color screams Oprah? Red? Purple? Blue? Pink? I DON'T KNOW. So much pressure! Also, where would we sit? On the couch? Maybe Oprah doesn't do couches after the whole Tom Cruise thing. At the dining room table? At the kitchen table? Gaga looked like they were at the dining room table. Do I serve snacks? What snacks are Oprah-worthy? Do you think Oprah likes taco dip? Is that not suitable to serve to Oprah? Maybe no chips and dip, maybe just fruit. But then again, what if Oprah is expecting chips and dip and not fruit? Serve both? Too much food? WHAT! This is all so confusing.
This is making my head hurt. Hopefully, I have a few years to think about these things and prepare for the day Oprah comes to visit. But, I better start now. You can never be too early for Oprah.

One Potato, Two Potato, Three Potato, No Potatoes for 40 Days

Lent started today. So, like everyone else, I went to the Twitter and Facebook to see what I should give up. After many suggestions, I decided my good friend and neighbor Kathy gave me the best suggestion. Potatoes.
I felt like I had to give up something epic for Lent since the Pope gave up being the Pope and all. Some suggested Twitter, which would be epic, but very inconsiderate. I couldn't let my Twitter followers down by not being there for entertain them for 40 WHOLE DAYS. That's like...a lifetime.
So, we came to potatoes.
My beloved potato.
That's about as epic as we can get seeing as the name of my blog is Erica Loves Potatoes.
The potato is a part of me. It makes me who I am.
I love potatoes. This will be a challenge. It means no french fries, no chips, no mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, cheesy potatoes, roasted potatoes, eating potatoes like an apple. None of that. It will take a stupendous (wow I haven't used that word since I used to watch Barney) amount of will power. For instance, St. Patrick's Day falls during Lent. I always eat potatoes on St. Patrick's Day. It's the law. But hopefully, I will stand my ground. Say no to the delicious potato.
Bring it, St. Patrick.
I will be keeping all of you updated on my potato-less existence for the next 39 days. I know Lent is 40 days but today doesn't count because I ate potatoes at lunch.

The Old Pope

The Pope is resigning. I had no idea this was possible for a pope. I'm in a state of shock over the Pope. I thought the Pope had to die to not be the Pope any more. I just like to say the word "pope." But all this Pope talk has got me thinking. I am a member of Catholic church. I'm a bad Catholic though. Sorry Noni. My Noni goes to church every day. I go....every year. And I will never be used to that "and also with your spirit" stuff. Probably because I only have to remember it once a year. For 18 years of my life, there was no "also with your spirit." It was simple. "And also with you." Now, for the last two years they've changed it on me. Anyway, enough blubbering about my bad church-going habits. Let's talk about the Pope.
The process of picking a pope fascinates me. The cardinals go into the Sistine Chapel and I don't know what they do exactly, but a smoke signal is released and if it' black, no new pope. If the smokes turns white, hey, we have a new pope. I imagine it's like American Idol. The cardinals go in and out and people vote and white smoke means you're going to Hollywood! Or in this case, Vatican City!
I've never seen a young pope. Of course, I think there's only been two popes in my lifetime, but still. The Pope is always kinda old. Who are we kidding? The Pope is always old. This job is a lot of pressure for an old guy. I imagine that's why Pope Benedict XV something...the 16th, is leaving the Pope-acy. Nope, I don't think that's a word either. Then, on top of all the stress of running the Catholic church, especially nowadays, the Pope's gotta wear that big hat on his head. Now, I love that hat don't get me wrong. It's fabulous. But it's gotta be heavy. And the Pope never has fabulous posture. I've never seen a Pope with great posture. The only logical conclusion is that this is because of the hat. Or he is just old.
I often wonder the Pope does in every day life. Is the Pope like a regular old person? My grandparents aren't as old as the Pope, but when I go visit either of my them, both of my Grandpas are usually watching television. They do plenty of other things, too, but TV is the big one. Sound familiar? Yes. Maybe excessive TV watching runs in my family. But I just assume everyone watches a lot of TV because what else could you possibly do? Especially if you are as old as the Pope. So, does the Pope watch a lot of TV? What does he do all day? What does the Pope do in his spare time? Does the Pope have spare time? Maybe he just rides around the Vatican in the Popemobile.
Regardless of what the Pope does in his spare time, if it exists, the Pope still has a pretty tough job. The Catholic church is behind on the times, in my opinion. The Pope has to deal with this kind of criticism daily. Plus all the priests. I won't even go into that. Maybe that's why the Pope has bad posture. Under that robe he's gotta wear, he stores all the confessions from the priests. Anyway, even the President of the United States is never as old as the Pope. When someone runs for Prez and they are approaching 70, they are considered ancient and too old to handle the job. The Pope is 85. The man has lived for 85 years and now they make him run the Catholic church. At 85, unless I'm as cool as Betty White, I hope I'm well into retirement. I understand, the older, the wiser. That is, until you're so old, you don't remember to put pants on before you leave your house. I wonder if the Pope has someone helping him put his socks on. Maybe the Pope can put his own socks on.
I have many questions about the Pope.
Regardless, the Pope is old.
And maybe, cardinals, we should look for a younger Pope. Especially now.
Unless there's a rule I'm unaware of that you have to be pretty old to be a pope.

On a side note, Catholic church and new Pope, whom ever you may be, make mass more exciting. We should have a dance party....or an ice cream bar.

The Blog Post

There's an epidemic in this country. And I don't need WebMD to diagnose it.
It's so bad.
Terribly bad.
Awful.
There's an epidemic of bad television show names.
It started with The Talk. I thought that was silly. The Talk? How creative. They should've just went all out and named it The Talk Show. Or CBS's Version of The View.
Now, I actually enjoy the talk. Sheryl Underwood cracks me up. But, you need a new name.
This "virus" must have caught on. There is a show on now in the middle of the day called The Chew. Ew. What kind of a name is that? Chew? Yeah, sure, I chew my food but that's such a weird word. Chew. Chew. Keep saying it to yourself. It's a weird word. What do you picture when you think of the word chew? Yeah, a mouth with a bunch of food in it. Ew. Again, I like the show. They have some good recipes on there. Not that I ever cook or anything. They have great recipes that I pass on to my mom.
Just when I thought it could end there, I see previews for a show called The Taste. It's like American Idol for chefs. Judges taste aspiring cooks' food. How creative to name the show, The Taste. I can't even believe it. It's genius. How in the world did they come up with such a great name? Gee, I don't know.
I thought it would end there. I wish it would've ended there because today I was sitting on my Noni's couch watching the local news when a preview for a new show came on where contestants compete for a job. And guess what it's called? Oh man, how did you know? It's called The Job. WHAT IN THE WORLD IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?
When will this end?
I'm very worried for the television industry right now.
If they can't even think of names for shows, how in the world can they even write or create a good show?
Oooo, wait, here's a preview of the fall TV lineup: Mondays: The Sitcom. Tuesdays: The Drama. Wednesdays: The Cop Show. Thursdays: The Singing Competition. (As if we don't have enough of those) Fridays: The Reality.

When are we going to get creative again? Just a tad bit more creative. Please. Even as creative as Wings, which isn't terribly creative, but at least it wasn't called The Airline.

I have a solution.
Put me in the television business. I'm an expert.

EMERGENCY! WebMD Says I'm Dying

     Have you ever tried to diagnose yourself using WebMD? Well I have. I use it all the time. Why? I have no idea, because every time, it scares the living day lights out of me.
    I was on today. There is probably nothing at all wrong with me. I just noticed I was very tired today and my throat hurt. Yet, this time, I also decided to include all the symptoms I have all the time. Like, for instance, insomnia or dry eyes. I put in my symptoms thinking, hey, maybe all my problems could be linked. This is what I got : It says I could have inhaled anthrax. I could have the bird flu, the Plague, ricin poisoning, West Nile Virus, acute sinusitis, appendicitis, throat cancer, toxic shock syndrome, fibromyalgia, anorexia, cocaine abuse, dehydration, dementia, vertigo, ectopic pregnancy, "exercise or physical activity" (i don't know, either), mumps, diverticulitis, ovarian cancer, common cold, scarlet fever, schizophrenia, or radiation sickness.
     What in the world?
      Now I have become unreasonably (hopefully) scared for my life.
      I of course click on each problem to see what it's all about. Some of them have giant red boxes underneath the name that say EMERGENCY. Call 911 immediately. It's possibly the scariest thing ever. Even scarier than that haunted house I went through at Dracula's Forest at Halloween.
       Every time I visit WebMD, i get results like this. It frightens me. Every time. And I never have any of these serious problems. It's usually nothing.
       I often wonder how many people call 911 and tell them that according to WebMD, I have most of the symptoms of Ricin poisoning. Is WebMD becoming a problem, tying up 911 lines? Does anyone else freak out when they go on WebMD like I do? I would imagine people have to freak out. It tells them they have a life-threatening disease. Or...like ricin poisoning, a completely fatal disease. No way of surviving. Sorry.
        I don't think I've ever eaten a ricin bean. I don't even know what a ricin bean is. Yet, I am sitting here deathly afraid that I have ricin poisoning.
       Why do I continue to put myself through this torture?
       I don't know what I'm here writing for, since it's possible I may die of the Plague soon. So I'm going to go live like it's my last day.
       Everybody Loves Raymond is on TVLand.

18 Million Cracks

I was heartbroken in 2008 when Hillary lost the primary election. Devastated. I had followed her around for months, investing my heart and soul into that campaign. I blamed it mostly on Florida and Michigan. If they had followed the rules, she would've won. We wouldn't be here now, listening to her concession speech.

"I want to say to my supporters: When you hear people saying or think to yourself, If only, or, What if, I say, please, don't go there. Every moment wasted looking back keeps us from moving forward.

Life is too short, time is too precious, and the stakes are too high to dwell on what might have been. We have to work together for what still can be."

She was right. But for me,  it was so hard to get over the fact that she had lost. 

Just imagine something you invested so much time in that had failed.

But did she really fail?

18 million people voted for Hillary. 18 million. 

18 million cracks in that glass ceiling.

Throughout the campaign, I had met her twice. She came to Scranton to be in our St. Patrick's Day Parade. I followed her along the parade route. She was shaking everyone's hands and saying hello, taking pictures. I stuck my hand out. "Hello!" she said, as she shook my hand. I had no words. I couldn't say a thing. Hillary Clinton had just shaken my hand.

One morning, Hillary was making an early visit to Scranton. I dragged my mom down to the Cultural Center for 4 AM. We were third in line. Ryan Lecky came and interviewed us. There was a woman directly behind us from Bosnia who had pictures of Hillary safety pinned all over herself. It was freezing cold. But I just kept thinking, I need to talk to her. I have to say something to her this time. 

I was able to stand right in front as she was speaking. And afterwards, she came around, talking to everyone, taking pictures. She got to me and it was very chaotic. But this time, I spoke. She signed my book. I got a nice picture with her and we chatted about relatives up at Lake Winola. 

That was one of the best days of my life.

I eventually came around to supporting President Obama. He seems like a cool guy. I feel like I could sit down and talk to him about anything. And I LOVE Michelle. She just seems awesome.

Now, he's entered his second term and Hillary is stepping down as Secretary of State and the rumor mill begins swirling. Will Hillary run in 2016?

I think she's exhausted right now. She needs time off. But these articles are getting me very excited. They are bringing back that feeling I had in the 2008 election. A feeling of hope and excitement.

"To those who are disappointed that we couldn't go all of the way, especially the young people who put so much into this campaign, it would break my heart if, in falling short of my goal, I in any way discouraged any of you from pursuing yours.

Always aim high, work hard and care deeply about what you believe in. And, when you stumble, keep faith. And, when you're knocked down, get right back up and never listen to anyone who says you can't or shouldn't go on.

As we gather here today in this historic, magnificent building, the 50th woman to leave this Earth is orbiting overhead. If we can blast 50 women into space, we will someday launch a woman into the White House."

When Hillary was young, she wanted to be an astronaut. She wrote to NASA and they told her that women can't be astronauts.

I'm hoping we will launch that woman into the White House in the near future. Hillary 2016.

You Gotta Beliebe

     I have to explain something major. A major development in my life.
     New Year's Eve: 2000....something. This Justin Bieber kid was performing on my television screen....well my aunt's television screen. Anyway, he was like 15 and his song had two words : "baby" and "oh." I instantly laughed at this new teen sensation.
     Fast forward a few years. My sister has become a belieber. I constantly make fun of her. How in the world could you be so in love with this kid? I couldn't understand it at that time. He wears overalls to meet the Prime Minister. He waddles because his pants are down around his ankles. He can sing and dance, but I don't see much else in the kid. My dad even makes fun of him, calling him a "woos." She has posters of him all over her wall. I even took her to see him on the Today show. Granted, we could only hear him, but still. She had a sign that said "Don't Stop Beliebing." And I wanted her to be able to see him. I tried to shove my way to the front, but many Beliebers are just crazy. Like....CRAZY. Girls were crying and they couldn't even see him. I cried at my first Bon Jovi concert when Jon first graced the stage...but that's JON BON JOVI. and I could actually see him.
      Then, all of a sudden, I had this weird urge to listen to the Biebs. And it hit me. It's real. Bieber Fever. I've seen stories of people who've "caught" it. I laughed at them, like I laughed at everything else that had to do with the Biebs. But now, I don't laugh. It's not a laughing matter. It's real.
       I, me, Erica, the ultimate Bieber hater, had become a Belieber. I don't understand it. I'm listening to Bieber now. All around the worldddd, people want to be lovedddd. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME?
      There's simply no other way to explain it. Bieber fever is real. And I've got it.

Sweet Escape

      People always find little ways to escape life. Some ways are good, some...not so much. I've been thinking a lot about what i want to do with my life. The only things I can come up with are "Be super rich and famous" and "sit on a beach, shop, watch TV, and eat potatoes." Those are great....but, as much as I hate to say, unrealistic. I hate that word. When people ask me what I'm going to be when I "grow up," I always say "super rich and famous." Which prompts them to respond with my least favorite word besides "guestimate" because that's just a stupid word, "unrealistic."
     So then I sit around and I think that there has to be a way to become rich and famous. I CAN'T FIGURE IT OUT besides luck. Luck seems to be on my side, sometimes. But my life depends on this whole being super rich and famous idea and I can't just rely on luck. I have to make my own luck. That's what all those rich CEO's say, right? Anyway, as you can see, I become stressed and annoyed and THAT is when I head to my escape route: television.
      I know I've written about TV before and how much I just love it. But I feel the need to write about it again because it's just so fabulous. I turn on the TV and all those problems disappear. I become engrossed in other people's problems instead. I analyze their lives. When LOST was on, I watched religiously. And in between episodes each week, all I would think about was LOST and what could possibly happen next. Sons of Anarchy has become my new LOST. It's my one hour escape from life. And then when the episode ends, I try to predict what could happen next and try to figure out the character's back stories and how they ended up where they are and why they are who they are. It's so much more fun to me than paying attention in class.
     Law and Order SVU Tuesdays: best day of the week, easily. This semester, of course, I have classes 9-9 on Tuesdays. It ruins my week.
     Wednesdays I watch the Middle. I like trying to relate my family to the Hecks. And Axl is just hilarious. Kinda like me.
     I'm a big 30 Rock fan and I'm sad it's coming to an end. On Thursdays, that is my escape. I transform myself in Liz Lemon, which isn't very hard, and I am a part of the show.
     And every night I watch Everybody Loves Raymond on TV Land. My favorite show ever. And I am a mix of every character. It's too perfect...and hilarious.
     That's what I like. Putting myself in television. Relating it to my life. It's easy. It's fun. It's what I like to do. Now I know there's someone out there who's said something like "Find what you love to do and figure out a way to get paid for it." So that's the goal. Goal set. Now what?

This is what I want to do in my life:
live somewhere warm
be super rich and famous
meet Oprah
eat potatoes

If there is job that requires all four, I am available. VERY available.

Ok, no more stressing about where my life is going to go. Time to escape. I'm just going to go watch The Golden Girls and pretend I'm Rose Nylund, which isn't that far of a stretch.

All You Can Eat

    I am a frequenter of the Chinese buffets in town. I love these Chinese buffets. They don't just have Chinese food. I can mix mac and cheese with orange chicken and some pudding and piece of pizza. But I realized the other day when I joined my Grandpa for lunch at the Chinese buffet that I had been doing the buffet thing all wrong.
      Usually when I go to the buffet, I stuff everything I possibly can on one plate and then sit down and eat it. My french fries are covered in soy sauce. The sweet and sour sauce for the sweet and sour chicken is every where but on the chicken. Where is the sense in this? I am at a buffet. I can go back for as many plates as I want. Why should mix it all together, pile everything on top of each other?
      My Grandpa is what I refer to as a "Professional Buffet Eater." A term I didn't know should have existed until I joined him at the buffet. He begins with his fish plate. Mainly shrimp. Then he moves to fruit. Then his main course, which consisted of stuffed clams and mushrooms among other things. He had never known about the Hibachi part, so my cousin introduced him to that and he added spicy chicken, shrimp, steak, and noodles to his entree. Then he moved on to his usual dessert of pudding and jello squares. What a genius. Why have I never thought to do that? THAT is how you work the buffet. You would think that through all my buffet experience, I would have picked this up by now. It seems like common sense.
      A buffet is a place to sample things. It's all you can eat. And you can have an unlimited amount of plates. So try every ice cream flavor without mixing them all together. And eat non-soy-sauce soaked fried zucchini. Try your Chinese donut without sweet and sour sauce and cheese and rice all over it. Transform yourself from an amateur buffet go-er to a professional, like my grandfather. The ultimate buffet pro.

I've Never Injured Myself Using A Cotton Swab

I just saw a commercial for this product called the "Wax Vac" or something of that nature. It cleans your ears. The commercials starts by talking about how using cotton swabs to clean your ears is "dangerous" and whatever. Then, they proceed to show a man cleaning his ear with a Q tip and then screaming "OUCH!" Now, I don't know about any of you, but I've never injured myself using a cotton swab. And at this....I laughed. I laughed way harder than anyone should while watching a commercial not meant to be funny. A serious commercial that is trying to sell you something.
I've seen plenty of these types of commercials. They're hilarious. Doesn't the maker of the product realize how ridiculous the commercials make the product look?
I saw another one just before the Wax Vac in which people are complaining that when they sit down for long periods of time, their "back and bottom" hurt. So...what is the commercial's answer to this problem? This little foam pillow with gel in the middle or something. It's called Forever Comfy. You just put it on the seat and VOILA! No pain. Now, I see how this thing can solve that awful pain on your butt, but your back? Not making much sense to me. Then there's this older guy who is sitting at his computer in major pain from sitting too long. Then he gets the pillow thing and he is just super happy and typing away and making that "you go girl" gesture at the computer screen. You just have to laugh. There's no other way. I guess you could also yell at the TV, "If your butt really hurts from sitting for hours, why don't you get up off your lazy bum for a little while?" There, problem solved.
All of these great commercials....from the Sauna Pants to the Snuggie commercials where everyone is wearing snuggies literally every where and they are all dancing in them....are just great entertainment for people like me. They provide good laughs and great conversation. I don't know if that's what the sellers have intended. If so, they're doing a fabulous job.
One of my favorite commercials, which I actually haven't seen in a while, is the Hover Round commercial. Now I can go go go in my Hover Round. Indoors, outdoors, all over town! And there's just old people everywhere riding their Hover Round, enjoying life. There are choregraphed Hover Round dances, with everyone in circles riding around. And what makes it even better is that the man who invented the Hover Round appears in the commercials and his name is Tom Kruse. This commercial is just GOLD. Old people riding their Hover Rounds in the woods, in the mall, by fountains, in the old folk's homes. Everyone every where in this ad has a hover round. In the woods, in the mall, by the fountains, in the old folk's homes, everyone has a Hover Round and a smile. AND it comes with an in home test certification....whatever that means.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go put on my Trendy Top and Cami Secret because regular camis are just too annoying and make the perfect Tortilla for dinner, use my Hot Buns to get the perfect bun....or curly hair, take some money out of my Fanny Bank, and go to Boscov's and buy a purse organizer in every color and some Pajama Jeans. Because...who wouldn't want Jeans made out of sweatpants?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFLQuPh0uC4