Kids, I am a misfit. I don't think I really belong in this modern world of Americana. I've had this driven home to me a few times recently in different ways.
As anyone who knows me at all knows, I am a bookworm. That's putting it mildly. I put away books like some people put away a chocolate bar. I've had to visit my dentist a few times recently, and each time his staff seems fascinated that I not only have a book with me, but a different one each time. A lot of people apparently get home from work or school, plop down on the couch, and turn on the TV to relax. If I plop down on the couch, my hand automatically goes for my latest tome of interest, not the remote. I can count on one hand the number of times I've turned on the TV and flipped channels without having a specific show or program I wanted to watch, usually when I'm staying in a hotel. In fact, we don't even have our TV cable connected in my current apartment. The TV is solely used for watching videos, and most of the time when that happens it's because I'm working on sewing or crocheting something, or because Mel puts in a workout video.
Maybe I should be used to this by now, but I just can't get over how much TV the majority of the world seems to watch. I've zoned out of so many lunchtime conversations at work because they start revolving around the latest episode of "Dancing with the Stars," "The Biggest Loser," "The Office," or some other show that I've never seen a full episode, let alone the one last night. And I start thinking to myself, is this what people do with their lives?
To be fair, I've had plenty of evenings where I didn't feel like moving off the couch, or going to any effort to do anything. But most evenings, I'm just itching to *do* things. I want to water my garden and scheme about making curtains for my sliding glass doors and possibly some kind of quilted wall hanging to go on what Melanie calls the ugly wall.
I want to find a good recipe for pumpernickel bread and make strawberry jam and figure out more simple ways to cook vegetables than just sauteeing them. I want to pull out my sketchbook and enter the frightening realm of drawing once more and maybe take a watercolor class and learn how to make all the baby blankets in the little crocheting instruction book I just bought and improve my skills on sewing shirts and learn how to alter patterns so I can sew for people besides myself.
I want to rent a digital keyboard and start learning simple piano pieces again and practice singing and play my flute and compose descants so I can accompany the ward choir with my flute. I want to be really brave and try writing fiction again. I want to read everything I can about genes and cancer and also read all the books I got at great sales that are still sitting unread on my bookcase. I want to explore all the fun little side streets in Salt Lake and discover restaurants and random little shops. I want to go hiking and find wildflowers and take pictures of sunsets. I want to finally actually meet my goal to introduce myself to all my neighbors in my building and take them a tasty treat so they'll remember me (maybe pumpernickel bread?).
Good golly, guys, who has time to watch TV every night? What a waste of a life!