What is this feeling?

The oddest thing has been happening to me. As I have earnestly documented here, here, here and here, I love TV. Parks & Rec, 30 Rock, The Bachelorette, Gilmore Girls, Bones, Mad Men. You name, I've seen it. I love it all.

But recently I have been crazy antsy for all the seasons to be done (blasphemy!).

It all started with this pesky full-time job I got. My first couple days of work, I would come home really excited to have new TV to catch up on. When you don't have a job, it's pretty easy to sqeeeeeze in time for every new episode of absolutely everything that is available on Hulu/Netflix/the internet. You get to the point where you are always caught up on everything and are always looking for something new. So when I first got a job, it was amazing to have exciting TV to look forward to without ever getting to the point where I needed to find new TV. Friday evenings were the best--30 Rock, Parks & Rec, The Office, and Grey's on Hulu. All new.

But then I got a little bit behind. And then I started adding TV to my to-do list.

And now I have a post-it on my desktop listing the TV shows that I follow and the number of episodes I'm behind on. And I started half-heartedly watching all these shows while working on other things in order to check them off my list (like right now--I'm "watching" Modern Family). Logically I know that I don't have to watch all of these shows. But I really do love them. And I love being caught up on TV. But I also love sitting outside, and running errands, and reading, and blowing bubbles with my nephews. So, I'm stranded in this awkward position where I just don't have enough time to work, enjoy the summer, run errands, hang out with my family, and watch all my TV.

So, I need a summer break from TV. And then, in order to reign in this list of shows, maybe next year I won't collect any new TV. Except, let's be honest, I must watch this.

Netflix TV

I know, I know. In this post I went on and on about how much I love TV on DVD. And it's true--I do. And it's still my favorite way to watch shows that I know I love. But I have to admit, extreme boredom + Netflix instant steaming has facilitated some amazing and unexpected TV interests. You see, when you have Netflix instant streaming, you constantly feel like you should be making the most of your money, eking every last moment of joy out of your $7.99/month. So, once you've exhausted every episode (multiple times) of known faves like 30 Rock, Parks and Rec, Mad Men, and Friday Night Lights, you're open to trying out random shows that you've never heard of, that you would never pay money for, and that you would never pause on while flipping through the channels.

Trying out a new TV show is like a rush of boredom and anticipation because you never know if you'll be suffering through the next Psych (sorry Psych lovers--it's a major bore for me) or discovering the next Lost (I have to admit, it sucked me in, and I watched five seasons in four weeks). This post is dedicated to four shows that hooked me that I never would have tried/loved if it weren't for Netflix. These aren't award-winning shows, and they wouldn't make it onto a list of my top TV, but they're the kind of shows that are satisfying to stumble on because they make you want to watch more.

1. Veronica Mars. VM combines three of my very favorite things: teenage angst, twenty-something actors as 16-year-old high school students, and witty, feel-good crime solving. While a little cheesy at times, this show won me over and forever endeared me to Kristen Bell. Unfortunately, Netflix no longer streams it.

2. White Collar. Flipping through Netflix I thought White Collar was an Office-like sitcom in the vein of Better off Ted. Not interested. But then my sister mentioned loving it, so I tested the pilot. It is, in fact, about a con man/thief/bond forger who escapes from prison with only four months left on his four-year sentence, gets caught, and strikes a deal with the FBI to be a confidential informant rather than serve four more years in prison. What makes this show work is the chemistry between the con man, Neal Caffrey, and the FBI agent who tracked him down, Peter Burke. They become besties, but there is always the tension/threat that Neal will revert to his conning ways. As a viewer, you come to trust in Neal's good heart despite his knowledge of thieving and unnerving ability to manipulate people, so you're never truly worried he'll end up the culprit, but every so often you mildly suspect he's just pulling one long con on the FBI. I have to admit, I'm a sucker for Neal's Rat Pack wardrobe, his ability to pick a lock, and his dazzling con man smile.

3. Damages. Ellen Parsons is a seemingly naive fresh-out-law-school lawyer who scores a job working with Patty Hewes at the top law firm in NYC, Hewes & Associates. The pilot flashes months into the future, showing Ellen stumble off an elevator in a bloody trench coat looking shocked and guilty, and her fiancee is dead in a bathtub. The first season unravels the events leading up to and surrounding this incident. The lines of ethical action are blurred, and no one can be trusted. Dun, dun, dun. Admittedly, the first season is the strongest and seasons two and three are a little disappointing by comparison, but Rose Byrnes as Ellen Parsons is the perfect combination of innocent/earnest and calculating, and Glenn Close as Patty Hewes is chilling/fascinating. With only 13 episodes per season, I flew through this series.

4. Lie to Me. I had absolutely no context for this show when I first clicked on the pilot. I was pleasantly surprised. Cal Lightman can tell if someone is lying based on fleeting micro expressions that he is trained to detect. He's cocky, brash, and private, but his infalible skills make him an intriguing hero. Yes, the show gets a little repetitive (Crime is committed. Lightman knows whether the suspect is lying or not. Suspect goes free or goes to jail.), but the concept that honesty (or the ability to know when someone is not being honest) is the key to crime fighting is so simple it's genius.

Entertainment Ennui

Last night at 10:30 I was sitting at my computer browsing my parents' Netflix subscription. Oddly, I wanted a break from TV and desperately wanted to watch a good movie. By good, I mean something mindless with beautiful people, or fashionable clothes, or, at the very least, something I hadn't seen before. I scanned through the romance and comedy genres and clicked through Starz Play. The same four movies kept showing up over and over: Notting Hill, Never Been Kissed, Morning Glory, and You Again. Not in the mood, too dated, I hate Diane Keaton, and not worth seeing again.

When a classic like Notting Hill doesn't sound appealing, I know it's going to be impossible to settle on a movie that I'll actually finish. It's impossible because when I'm in a restless viewing mood what I really want to watch is a magical romantic comedy starring Meg Ryan at her You've Got Mail prime, present-day Adam Scott, and present-day Ginnifer Goodwin all dressed like they work at a fashion magazine (Gossip Girl/Devil Wears Prada style) with supporting roles by present-day John Krasinski, any-time-in-her-career Amy Poehler, and Good Will Hunting Matt Damon with a screenplay written by Nora Ephron and Tina Fey. Since this movie doesn't exist (devastating), I had to settle on watching Disney's Prom.

Prom is a compelling tale of the four weeks leading up to high school prom. It stars Julie from Friday Night Lights as class president/AP star/prom organizer, a long-haired bad boy (think Heath Ledger in 10 Things I hate About You) as her unexpected(?) love interest, a perfect-and-overachieving-but-insensitive boy (think Freddie Prince Jr. in She's All That minus the mid-movie change of heart) as her flakey initial prom date, an awkward Neville Longbottom character as the token nerd who can't find a date, and a freshman Bieber-meets-Efron character who doesn't really have any place in the movie. Julie desperately wants Freddie Prince to ask her to prom. After all, they have been in AP classes and on student council together for as long as she can remember. They're MFEO. He asks her in an insultingly casual way (want to carpool to prom?) and then cancels last minute. Two weeks before prom, all the prom decorations burn in a fire (it really sounds like I'm making that up, doesn't it?), and bad boy's punishment for being a ruffian is to help Julie make new decorations. They work together, they fall in love, he has a heart, he gets cold feet because he thinks she's too good for him, but then he surprises her on prom night (gasp!). Neville takes his sister. Bieber-meets-Efron wins over a Selena Gomez sophomore by flipping his bangs. All-in-all it was thoroughly what I expected: a mediocre Disney take on the classic teen romance genre that was just half a step above Disney made-for-TV movies like Brink or Double Teamed. And yes, if I'm to be completely honest, I watched the whole thing.

And I could continue making fun of Prom to thoroughly convince you that I hated it and don't like watching cheesy, low-quality movies. Or, I could use the movie as a springboard to talk about my own prom experience in my purple dress with my date, Ben. But I'm not going to do either because I do like watching cheesy, low-quality movies, and my prom experience was super boring. Except the part where I almost vomited from the sideways ride in the limo.

TV

I love talking TV. Parks & Rec, Gilmore Girls, Project Runway. You name it. I could talk about TV endlessly (and I probably have with many of you). I like hearing about what people are watching, what new shows they're hooked on, and what they thought about the most recent episode of ______. And, quite honestly, TV is one of the few things that I really keep up on. I could have a conversation about TV with just about anyone, and I would be able to find some common ground.

TV was probably the topic of 81% of the conversations I had with my friends in my English masters program. (Books were probably the topic of 4% of our conversations.) Each year as part of our program, we went to a progressive dinner where we students mingled with the professors from our emphasis. As me and my friend Vilja arrived, we made a pact that we were not going to talk about TV. We would be social, we would be intelligent, and we would discuss things like Heidegger or the tensions inherent in academic freedom. If we got really desperate, we would talk about teaching and tell anecdotes about our students or grading. This was our plan.

We inched our way through the food line, secured our soup and rolls, and bravely sat at a table with a new member of the English department. Almost immediately after introductions, I blurted out, "So, what kind of TV do you like?" I know. It's horrifying how little self control I have. What was even more horrifying was Professor X's response: "I don't own a TV." I was stunned. I stumbled over some question about his current research interests, and I tried to inwardly recover from this blow. I understand the logic behind not owning a TV. In fact, part of me likes the idea of minimizing the intrusion of technology and striving towards a quiet and focused life that doesn't bother itself with Liz Lemon's new boyfriend or who Ben will give a rose to. But it seems like a casual TV knowledge is a necessary aspect of engaging with American culture. Like knowing who the presidential candidates are or who's competing in the super bowl.

So, I guess I should revise my previous statement to say, "I could have a conversation about TV with just about anyone EXCEPT PROFESSOR X, and I would be able to find some common ground." Well, when I moved back to Vancouver a couple months ago, I was determined to find such common viewing ground with my mom. My mom doesn't watch TV. Aside from some sewing shows, a few seasons of the Cosby Show, and a some episodes of Extreme Couponing on TLC, I don't think my mom has spent more than 25 hours in front of the TV.

Until I changed all that.

We started with a few seasons of Gilmore Girls. She had watched some with my younger sister and had liked it, so we finished off the series. Not a major triumph since she was previously interested. Then, after trying out a few shows like Parenthood and Friday Night Lights, I finally got her hooked on something new: Bones. Turns out Temperance Brennan's narcissistic crime solving appeals to all. Over a few months, we watched all available seasons. Most recently, I've made some serious headway with Downton Abbey, which my mom (a hater of period dramas) originally resisted.

And now, after spoiling my mom with the joys of TV on DVD, we have to wait a week or more in between new episodes of both Bones and Downton Abbey. While I'm used to this minor annoyance, my mom is not taking it well. I mostly watch TV at my liesure on Hulu and very rarely follow a show anxiously enough to faithfully watch it on TV during it's allotted weekly time. (I don't have Tivo these days.) But now that my mom is hooked on these shows, she wants to watch them as soon as they are available. So, when we sat down last week at 9pm on Thursday evening to watch Bones and Bones wasn't on, my mom was flabbergasted. I guess before it went on Christmas break it was on at 9pm, but post-Christmas it had changed to 8pm. Since Bones is on Fox, it isn't available on Hulu until 8 days after it's original broadcast. This would not do. And, as the introducer of TV, it seemed to fall to my responsibility to keep better tabs on our shows.

Then fast forward to tonight. My mom and I are finishing up a friendly game of speed scrabble when my mom abruptly pauses and asks, "Isn't Downton Abbey on tonight?" I had forgotten because of my previously noted liesure approach to viewing. I responded, "Oh yeah, we've probably missed it by now."

And my generally very sweet and kind mother responded, "Well, way to go!"

I've created a monster. But at least we've found some common ground.

DVDs

It's true that I don't like to own stuff. I'm always throwing stuff away, always regretting purchases, and always trying to simplify my possessions. But one thing I can't stop myself from collecting like a champion TLC hoarder is DVDs. I can easily talk myself out of buying a new pair of shoes, a new jacket, or a cute scarf. But if I'm standing in the DVD section at Target holding four seasons of TV and two movies, I almost weep at the thought of returning any of them to their shelf. How could I leave them behind? TV on DVD on sale is my biggest weakness. 21 episodes of pure joy for $10? I mean, come on, who can say no to that? And I know that technology is changing and the DVD will likely become obsolete (RIP VHS/VCR) in favor of digital content, but somehow this logic never seems to shine through my clouded and maniacal need for DVDs. 

This is how I ended up with 40 seasons of TV on my shelf. Yes, 40. Let's pause for a moment and say each season is an average of 21 episodes, and each episode is an average of 36 minutes (14 seasons are 23-minute shows and 26 are 43-minute shows). This means I have 504 hours of TV on DVD. That is 21 days straight. Of TV. 

And sure, I could have hours and hours of TV viewing at my fingertips with a Hulu Plus or Netflix subscription, but I would be paying around a hundred dollars a year and still wouldn't have the specific TV I wanted (shows like Felicity and AMC dramas are hard to come by). And I'd still have to deal with internet problems/streaming/commercials. DVDs are my favorite commercial-free way to watch TV. 

Insert disc. Play all. 

A catalogue of my TV on DVD: 

• 30 Rock, seasons 1, 2, 3, 5
• Parks & Recreation, season 3
• Gilmore Girls, seasons 1-7
• Felicity, seasons 1-4
• Friends, seasons 5, 6, 9, 10
• Parenthood, seasons 1-2
• Glee, season 1
• Friday Night Lights, season 4
• Bones, seasons 1, 2, 4, 6
• The Office (BBC), seasons 1-2
• The Office, seasons 1-2
• Heroes, season 1
• Chuck, season 1
• Mad Men, seasons 1-2
• Damages, seasons 1-2
• Monk, season 5
• Seinfeld, season 1

Day 17: On the Shelf