Death to the Black Box

My husband and I moved into our new apartment in July and since then we haven't had TV. We own two TVs, but we don't have cable. Not even basic channels. Not even NBC or ABC or the local channel that's usually a super old power-point slideshow with odd instrumental music on loop.

I know, I know. How have we survived?! It's downright unamerican.

We're not hippies. We're not ultra-conservative fundamentalists who have denounced pop culture.

We're just poor. Every paycheck gets dolled out to rent, utilities, car insurance and school loans and with whatever is left, we think to ourselves : we could get a digital converter box this month.... but we'd rather buy a few extra groceries or go on a date.

At first I felt like our apartment was much too quiet. I watched a lot of Gilmore Girls on DVD.

And then I started reading books I haven't read in awhile. And then I started writing in my journal. And sketching and making decorations for our apartment. And painting. And organizing all my shoes and art supplies.

My husband and I still rent movies at least once a week and watch them together.

When I'm home alone now, I don't get the feeling anymore that the big black box is going to swallow me unless I turn it on. My brain isn't rotting away in front of the propaganda machine anymore. I don't come to consciousness several hours later, sprawled on the couch, asking myself, Wait - What did I do today? Oh yeah ... nothing. ... except eat 3 bowls of cereal and day old pizza.

I've tested this theory, and I'm pretty sure I'm right. If there is a TV in the room with a cable connection, it is inevitably on. Having the TV off in my living room growing up was pure torture. I would try to concentrate on my book or drawing, but I was distracted by the almost audible voice telling me,

"Look at me. I'm empty and sad. You're empty and sad, too. Turn me on. Let's be friends."

On goes the TV, and my productivity - no, my brain activity - plummets.

Without cable to tempt me, the TV isn't this ominous black void to fill. Yes, it's quiet. I turn on music sometimes or NPR. Yes, sometimes I give in and watch a movie. But a movie is an investment. I have to be willing to sit and watch the movie for at least an hour and a half, and if I'm not, then what should I be doing? It's a good test: Watch a movie I've seen before OR make myself useful.

We trick ourselves into believing that TV is just a filler, just something to bide our time until we have an appointment or plans to hang out with a friend. False. It's a productivity killer. Imagine what we could do with all the time we've spent watching prime time TV. I could learn a new recipe, write more than one blog post, read that novel I bought but doubt I'll finish, or organize something. That's not busy work. That's actively participating in my life.

The only time I'll ever miss TV is probably on Christmas day when TNT does the 24 hours of A Christmas Story. Yes, I love it that much. But! It's a movie so maybe it's time to actually purchase it? That way, we'll only watch it once and spend more time talking with the family we traveled 250 miles to see on the best day of the year.

Bottom line is: I've found other things to do with my time. So is it okay that I don't ever want to get cable?

What about you? Could you survive without TV or are you afraid you'll be bored out of your mind?

Restless Writer

Today is my ritual Writing Saturday. I'm at Starbucks, all by my writing self and a goooood cup of coffee. And I'm enjoying it... sort of. I have a lot of thoughts rolling around and none of them are very helpful. After a long, busy, roller-coaster week, I have nothing to show for it - at least not in terms of my writing. Last Saturday I felt the same way. I wrote a solid 1,500 words, but none of what I wrote is anything that I would inflict on others. Now I sit, coffee in hand, listening to the friendly but distracting sounds of the cafe and I question, Did I come here this morning for the coffee or the writing? I might have just pulled myself into a bad writing habit by coming here instead of sitting at home in the quiet. I know that's not the only thing bothering me, though. I feel stumped. Uninspired. Frustrated. Displaced. Like something I once had is now gone; I feel the void, but what is it exactly that I've lost? I'm just wondering, for you writers and bloggers out there, When you feel like something is missing in your writing, how do you find it? I have a feeling that many of you will say, "I keep writing." Thank you. That was very helpful. But how do you subdue the anxiety that accompanies the sense of aimlessness? Truth be told, I feel bored with my writing self. Possibly, I am bored with my self self, and it's infringing on my writing self. (Am I helping or hurting my writing by separating my writing self from my whole self?) When I become restless with my writing, it often feels like I'm talking my writing self down from the ledge. Don't be so over-dramatic. The thing you're missing? It will come back to you. Just be patient. Wait it out. Write it out. And then, my self self gets frustrated. I am talking to myself. I am insane. I'm the crazy writer girl that's going to start wearing all white and never leave my house. Or I'll wind up sticking rocks in my trench coat pockets and wander into the river. Or stick my head in an oven and inhale deeply until the unhelpful thoughts go away.... See what I mean? It would be great if I could actually be satisfied with my writing self before the end of my life. (Disclaimer: I'm not actually suicidal. I just find it sad and amusing that so many great writers never knew their own potential.) I know I'm not alone in this, so tell me, how do I talk my writing self back from the ledge? How do I break the cycle of unhelpful thoughts? Advice, please. For now, I'm going to keep working on an unfinished writing project from a few weeks ago and hope that it yields something reader-worthy....