I hate that television shows can’t seem to have successful relationships in them. I can only assume that the ratings drop if there’s no grand sexual tension, or a relationship that’s just on the verge of happening … for years. It’s ridiculous. I lived through I don’t even know how many angst-ridden years of Friends waiting for Ross and Rachel to get together. Every time they did they’d fuck it up in some stupid way. Niles and Daphne … thankfully they got together and stayed together eventually.
What about Sam Seaborn and Leo McGarry’s daughter Mel? Or Mal and Inara from Firefly, or if you really want to get into it what about Kaylee and Simon? There’s Leonard and Penny from Big Bang Theory … and Casey and Dana from Sport’s Night … and then practically EVERYONE on The Newsroom. There was also something going on like that on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. How about Castle and Beckett?
This leads me to believe that maybe I have a problem with Aaron Sorkin and Joss Whedon. But the list goes on and on and on. My entire life I’ve been watching shows where this happens and it’s infuriating in that Constantly-stewing-and-simmering-in-the-back-of-my-mind type of way.
To television writers, directors, and producers (and most specifically the people funding them): knock it off and show us the dynamics of a real functional relationship. This constant roller-coaster you put us through over the course of years is bullshit!
On another note, I think I have super culinary powers.
Saturday night I helped a friend of mine make Hot and Sour Soup using a very basic recipe she found on the internet. It had such descriptive and illuminating instructions such as “Prepare the chicken.” Not only did we successfully create the soup (without burning the house down or destroying any appliances) but it actually came out pretty damn well too (if we do say so ourselves … and we do).
Both Saturday and Sunday I decided to remake my wonderful scrambled eggs topped with cheese and salsa. I’ve joked that I never do anything special when making myself eggs, but when someone is here that I’m making breakfast for I pull out all the stops … add milk so they’re fluffy, whip them in a bowl beforehand instead of just cracking them onto the pan and pushing them around with the spatula to “scramble” them. I had salsa and cheese though so I thought I’d use them before they went bad.
Saturday morning I did it in my underwear … standing in the kitchen whipping up eggs, cooking them on the stove, dressing them properly and adding salsa all over … and it was fantastic. Added a big glass of OJ and I was in for an amazing meal. I used too much salsa but that’s neither here nor there.
Sunday morning I’m half dressed getting ready to go to the 49er game, so I’ve got pants on but little else. I’m starving this time, so I’m cracking eggs into the bowl like before, and when the third egg is cracked I go to pull it apart and empty its contents into the bowl, I bobble and drop it. Now a normal human being with no super powers would have let that egg fall and curse their clumsiness.
As I said before, I am no normal human being. Not only am I blessed with catlike reflexes and the hand-eye coordination of … well … someone with great hand-eye coordination, but the rumbling hunger within me wouldn’t allow that egg to drop. So I caught it between my thighs.
The egg of course, which had already been cracked open on the side of the bowl, broke. But because I also have great sensitivity and control over my body I didn’t smash the egg … I actually did catch it between my thighs … and then caught the actual egg in my hand as it fell out of the shell. I dropped the egg in the bowl, threw away the shell and went right on with my morning. Granted, if this had been the day before I wouldn’t have been able to just change pants and be done with it. The story would have been somewhat different I think.
Either way, it turned out some egg whites hit the floor though, so I wiped that up … discovered that egg white can be VERY sticky … so I used some water to further clean that portion of the floor.
But after all was said and done, I had 3 scrambled eggs, cheese, and salsa. Again though, too much salsa.
Look, I didn’t say I was perfect, I said I have super powers.