Living in the Living Room

So this week I have been living in the living room, in other words on the couch like a true college student. Why do you ask have I left the comforts of the downstairs apartment? Well, the neighbors daughter is getting married tomorrow and her soon-to-be in-laws (that's a lot of hyphens) are staying downstairs. But this is not my point, not that there needs to be one. My point is more closely related to the little thing we all call the remote control.

You grow up, if like me in a large family, clammering for the remote at every possible turn, wrestling down siblings, tackling, biting, pleading, bartering, for that precious little bit of control over the afternoon's television choices. But as you graduate from the school of kick your brothers' and sisters' asses for tv control, you grow older, wiser and more civilized about such things, but more importantly, you get your own tv. Gone are the days of yesteryore when life was at the hands of that dreaded sibling, only to be later relinquished by a parent, or higher being such as homework or food. You are finally able to choose between over 500 channels of absolute crap or spend hours surfing through On Demand, only to second guess yourself when you finally chose a movie. But nonetheless, it is all yours.

So now that I am upstairs for the week I am stuck with Dave's choice of television...in other words: sailing, which is nice, but not for hours, StrongMan competitions, kung fu, bizarre films and weird off the wall choices. Alas I return to the days of being at the whims of others. Yes, there are little bits of tears forming at the edges of my eyes. I must go before I begin to truly relapse. Good bye! And I hope you have your own remote control story, and it is better than mine. Tear. Tear.

Blogging is so much fun!