washwords

This week Haiku Friday is also Flashback Friday – ahh verizon.

Fios down again
son of a blankety blank
freakity freak freak

Tee Vee should just work
and yet, plug, unplug, rehook
splitter, wire, cord

No lights on the dash
so it’s deep breath in and call
three calls later: mike

He doesn’t hang up
or transfer me to wireless
We chat. for… hours

And when it turns out,
it was me not them, this time
I’m not proud, people

yah, forgot to check
other tv splitter? split
oops: my bad, this time.

still, verizon: one
me: twenty seven billion
but mike? he’s allight

for more Washwords’ (and friends) haikus see Haiku You

I’m an unabashed reality show junkie from wayyyyy back in the “Real World” days. Besides Real World, America’s Next Top Model, Top Chef, Project Runway, yes even Joe Millionaire (I read, too. I swear. Big books with big words!)

Yet, for the most part, “The Bachelor” and later “The Bachelorette” eluded me. Sure I’d watch now and again, usally at the end, some bachelors (and ettes) more than others, but only with half an eye (while blogging, usually).

But tonight, maybe it’s me, maybe it’s my lack of full-on bachelorette participation, but

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John Kass’s free “Get out of SATC card” for men in the Chicago Tribune reminded me of my many, many, many rants on this show. (And yes, John, I’m a young(ish) female reader.)

As a woman, and a woman who sure watched some of the episodes, had a chuckle or two, I too can see the insipidness of this show. Another thing, it’s about the LEAST feminist female-empowering thing on the planet.
I could write a book (some have I’m sure) but among my SATC gripes… the last episode! Seriously! are you bonkers? here’s what it told me and other young women…

Carrie: I love love love the city, the city will be my man! Writing will be my love!

Carrie (five minutes later): Eh, screw my writing career, I’m moving to Paris to be a ballet dancer’s wife.

Carrie (another five minutes later): What?? Leave my life? no way. Grrrrl power. I’m going back to nyc where I belong! The city is my love

Carrie (yet ANOTHER five minutes later): What? Big getting out of a limo. Carry me away Prince Charming! Yayayaya. I don’t have to be a writer or pretend the city is my love anymore. I’ve gotta man. see ya bee-atches!

Hmmph. To me, this is a little like the feeling I had when showing up on “35 and single by choice” (or something like that’s) website to be greeted with “Surprise! This web site has taken a turn! I’m pregnant with twins, married, and quit my job! Yay!”

Stay tuned. Next week (just to drive up traffic) I plan to riff on the five million (or so) kids’ books that are better than Harry Potter. Yep, prepare your angry lashbacks now!

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