fictional confessions

Life has been far more complicated than I prefer. The demands of those who do not know what they ask of me have worn thin over the past six months and I am losing interest in honoring commitments that don't seem nearly as important as I once thought they might me.

I am not referring to my marriage or my art... but all the other things that take my mind and imagination away from my current vice and recent closet obsession.... True Blood. Mr dd says he's never seen me like this.

The last time my heart beat so excitely in response to a TV SHOW (eek!) was when, as a small child, The Beverly Hillbillies was broadcast. As soon as the Earl Scruggs intro began my siblings and I were jumping up and down like it was Christmas Eve. Later, as puberty was having its way Dark Shadows lured me away from my homework every weekday afternoon.

Why, I ask myself? What is it? Why can't I get enough of this? I watch it on demand whenever I have mindless tasks to complete, over and over again. When I am away from cable I've been reading the Charlene Harris books Allan Ball based the series on. Better to read them now than after hearing Allan Ball's script... Charlene is a better story teller than writer but who wants to be compared to Allan Ball? He lured me to the table so I'll blame him.

In the meantime this is my worst excuse for neglecting my blog. Life has been erratic, stressful and demanding of late. True Blood gets me though the week. I don't read fiction on a regular basis because if I really love something I can't put it down. It's something I usually save for airports, rail travel, ect. Mr dd isn't accustomed to me having my nose stuck in a book so now the tables are turned! (He's usually the one hiding out with his face either in a book.) Writing or reading, its still tough competition!

If you haven't tried True Blood you' d better not. It might be more than you can say no to.
Anna Paquin and Stephen Moyer chomp the small screen...