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I have absolutely nothing to write about.  But my husband is monopolizing the TV watching the UEFA Champions League final from the DVR recorded earlier and I shall not watch it.  (And so it has been Decreed.  Amen.)  I will stomach a Mythbusters now and again.  I will sit through Time Warp and have been known, on occasion, to sit through a couple of MMA fights.  But I cannot stomach War Documentaries, War Docudramas, anything about planes or jets and nearly everything on the History Channel.  Or Soccer Games.  I *played* soccer in high school and college.  I even had a ill-fated season with a coed adult team…*cough*.  But even *I* draw the line at watching soccer games on TV.  So, he watches alone.

I am not all that much of a TV watcher.  I would MUCH rather read a good book (insert High Mindedness, HERE).  But since I feel it is my duty and obligation to upset the perfect DVR coup my husband seems to be shooting for, I manage to garner enough interest in a few shows to put up a measly fight on the “what we’re watching” list.  It’s like 58 items long and I have three spaces.  At the bottom of the cue line.  So everything ELSE gets recorded first and Mine get recorded last.  As long as they come on in the hours between 2 am and 4 am if that really good infomercial show about World War II replica armament he records is a rerun.  But, my feminist/equality shortcomings aside, here is a short list of the shows that I watch and like on TV:

18 kids and Counting.  Oddly fascinating.  I’m actually a little disturbed at myself for watching this.  But I do.  So there.  I even DVR it.  I know.  It’s sad, really.  This, I watch alone.  When the kids are in bed and Bryan is out ‘banding’.  Because it’s shameful and I know it.

Deadliest Catch.  Now, Bryan will actually humor me with this and watch it with me.  I have no idea why I like this show so much.  Probably because I have a teeny-tiny crush on Edgar.  And both Hillstrand captains.  But it’s okay because I think Bryan does, too.  You know how so many girls get into The Bachelor and American Idol?  Bryan and I feel the same way about DC.  Can’t stand the Cack captain of the Wizard and would totally VOTE HIM OFF if I could do it.  And I’m not sure if Cack is actually a word or if Bryan just made it up but it pretty much summarizes my feelings for him (the Wizard Captain, not Bryan, you know, just FYI.)

I LOVE Scrubs.  But I have gotten so many seasons behind that I refuse to watch it until I catch up—which will be…eerrr….never.  But it’s hilarious.

Out of the Wild: The Alaska Experiment.  I don’t know.  I guess I like to watch people bumbling, starving trying to make their way through the Alaskan wilderness.  I like to disparage their lax survival skills knowing full well that I wouldn’t survive two weeks away from a Target.  I suppose it’s kind of the “couch coach” mentality–you know, where the kid who didn’t make the team yells commandingly at the TV screen while his favorite pro team plays?  Same here.  I would SO be the first to go if electricity ceased to provide the basics for me.  Bryan, however, would be King of This Sort of Thing.  Because he has this innate sense of survival that I lack.  And also a sense of direction.  Seriously.  I think The Way I Am Pointed Is North and all other Cardinal Directions change as I turn or move.  Bryan, however, can navigate through the inner city streets of Atlanta using The Force, I swear.  I’ve seen him do it.  It’s freaky.  And a little titillating.

A couple of nights ago, as I was settling into bed, I heard this bird chirping right outside the window of my bedroom.  I listened to it’s song for a few minutes before dozing off for the night.  A few hours later, I awoke to the same bird singing the exact same song.  Do you know how a certain sound (like rain or the chirping of a cricket) doesn’t really bother you and can be somewhat soothing until you really focus in on it and then it drives you CRAZY?  Well…that’s what happened.  It was the same song over and over and over.  I listened to it for well over an hour growing ever more irritated and radar-ing in on it until I was so frantic and panicked that I put a pillow over my head and eventually fell into fitful sleep–waking every hour or so hearing the same maniacal bird singing the exact same song.  I had even composed a post in my head complaining about the bird but I never wrote it because it seemed so evil–bitching about a bird’s singing.

Surely, I thought, one night of singing the same tune over and over would be enough for the bird.  But that night, again, the bird sang.  Fortunately, I was exhausted enough from my previous night’s sleep that it didn’t keep me awake all night.  But I awoke resolved to find the nest–which I presumed was in the bushes outside my bedroom window and get rid of it.  I even crawled all through the bushes (one of them a stickery holly bush) removing TWO bird’s nests and a hornet’s nest but that night, again, the bird sang.

Bryan came to bed and said, “Aw, HELL NO!” and went outside armed with a broom to get rid of the bird.  He banged on the bushes for a few minutes but when he came in, we could still hear the bird.  He couldn’t hear it while he was outside so we thought it might be inside.  We checked out the basement.  Nothing.  We banged on the walls, thinking maybe it got into our walls.  Nope.  Finally, Bryan and I are frantically trying to figure out where this bird is located.  He is standing on one side of the bed and there is a half-wall between us and as we stare at each other, contemplating a trip up into the attic, our eyes focus on our alarm clock.

Sure enough, the kids must have turned on  the “nature” sounds setting and the damn clock has been going off during the night for three straight nights.

No wonder the song was the exact same for hours on end.  No wonder we couldn’t find the bird no matter what.

And once my giggling started, it took a while to stop.  I was pretty much laughing hysterically at my (our) stupidity for about twenty minutes before we settled in for a quiet night’s sleep.