attack of the harmless fuzzies

The worst button that could break on an alarm clock broke on mine over the weekend -- the off button. Alarm clock got its plug pulled out of the wall and very nearly chucked across the room, which, considering that it was broken anyway, probably wouldn't have hurt much unless it hit something else. Anyhow, over the weekend Mom bought me a new one, one with

HUGE

glowing green radioactive-looking numbers. I'm very nearsighted, so this is probably a change for the better, but it's been hard to get used to. I was tired when I plugged it in and set the alarm, so I didn't bother to listen to it, and woke up this morning to the horrible sound of monkeys being tortured, or something in that ballpark.


Actually, I realized immediately that it was the new alarm, the new alarm, not just the alarm. And then I wondered if some brain cell or combination of brain cells sat there all night, just waiting for the second that the rest of my brain would suddenly and desperately need information with which to interpret that horrible, horrible sound, and proudly did its duty to spring into action during the split second when the rest of my brain was saying OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD, WHATISTHAT-- oh, it's the new alarm.


In other news, I have once again gotten sucked into the most wonderful invention that television has to offer: PBS Reality TV . Oh my god, and now I'm surfing the website of the PBS Reality TV show. I am an enormous dork, and I'm loving it!


A couple months ago I was swept back in time to the Edwardian age by one of these shows, and I was honestly really really glad that I was not participating in it, but I totally wish I'd gotten to try out for Colonial House. I would joke around about it probably being a bad thing to strangle the goats I was supposed to milk and how much corsets suck. And the people - the people in a reality television show - aren't mean-spirited morons. ! It's so PBS - they voice-over facts about life in America in 1628. So my joy at Colonial House has led me to ponder whether the rash of insanely misguided, crass, and wasteful reality television shows are redeemable on the simple fact that they probably gave the PBS people the idea for these shows.


And my answer is conditional: yes, on the condition that I personally only have to watch the PBS ones.