The Mini Van Soap Box

I have a somewhat addictive personality. That personality trait - coupled with my love of a routine - often makes my life...predictable. If I find something I like, I stick with it. For a long time.

Perfect example. I tried a Stouffer's Chicken and Spinach Flat bread pizza a couple of months ago. I now buy them by the truck load. Even my husband has noticed, and if he goes to the grocery store, he'll come home with EVERY chicken & spinach pizza they have.

"They only had five of them....Sorry"

Well, this lovely quirk of mine has reared it's ugly head again. However, this time I'm blaming my mother.

Typically, TV watching is not something my mother and I have in common. I watch a LOT of it, and she watches occasionally. I have, however, made some huge advances in my plot of turning her to the dark side. It only took me about 7 years to get her to watch Survivor, and after watching some Sunday football at our house, they finally caved and got a DVR.

There seems to be a new development in our tv watching relationship though. She found a show she likes, a lot, and I didn't lead her to it. She did it all on her own. I'm so proud of her. She likes this show so much that she even bought them on DVD.

The problem though is that I don't watch this show - I never really had an interest. But what is it about this show that she likes so much? I must find out.

So, I sat down and watched the pilot episode of The Closer.

Of course, now, I have watch every episode in Season 1 and 2 in the span of a week and a half and my southern accent is coming out all the time. I HEAR Krya in my head. I'm smiling at the cashier of the grocery store ... "Thank You. Thank You Very Much". I'm getting strange looks from my daughter and my husband is telling me I shouldn't watch so many of them back to back.

So, that's where you'll find me after 8:00 tonight. Curled up on my couch with a Chicken & spinach Pizza, watching the first episode of Season 3, pausing every five minutes to see what's going on in The Olympics.

This is exactly what happened when I fell in love with Buffy.

At least this time I won't start thinking that I'm a super hero and start carrying a wooden stick in my purse, on the off chance I might run into a creature of the night.