I think the fact that I have spent the past few weeks writing grants, business letter and grants and business letters has made for some mind numbing…or perhaps that’s just the weather here.

I have pondered the news to share with you all… how it feels to run in a snowstorm (Saturday); yesterday’s windchill, agonizing as Verbal and I walked to see the horses (Sunday); the trials and tribulations of paperwork (Saturday and Sunday)… so dry, right?

And I thought about my word of the day…vade mecum meaning a book for ready reference: a manual; or something regularly carried by a person.  What is your vade mecum?  I thought about the little tiger that I carry in my purse, named ‘mini raj’, who has traveled to 9 countries and 4 continents.  Except that the little tiger isn’t a manual.  I do, however, have a small book that has ‘London’ printed on the front and on the inside covers maps of London.  I use this book as a journal and write in various words of the day that I didn’t previously know.  What does that say about me I wonder?  I carry around a book of words that were previously unknown, and I write down new words as discovered.  Although, truth be told, I rarely re-look at the words or study the book, so maybe it is just a journal of words that I still don’t know.  Oh dear….

Continuing down the road of possible brain drain, I watched “Downton Abbey” last night with Mom.  And, I hate to come to terms with the fact that it really is and probably always has been a soap opera.  Last night’s episode seem to take the “cheese factor” to new heights.  During a scene in which the family sits down to dinner, several of the characters are taken ill, including a soon to be married young woman.  To my horror, I blurted out in a very teenage-like version of myself, “Oooh, I bet she dies.”  And yes, in the last half of the episode, she ‘buys the farm.’  Probably everyone thought what I said, as it was so patently obvious that 1) someone needed to die from the Spanish Influenza epidemic (just like 1 person died during WWI) and 2)  the romantic tension between Mary and Matthew needed to be drawn out, thwarted, and then given a hint of promise and 3) nobody really liked Lavinia (she was kind of like Melanie Wilkes, right? – you admire her as or right before she dies).

I think what was so horrifying to me was that I blurted it out like I used to blurt out equally unbrilliant spoiler alerts during episodes of the “Love Boat” and “Fantasy Island” when I was in middle school.  And while we are on the subject of horrifying, let me just add the ultimate in humiliating facts… I was only allowed to watch those shows if I didn’t get too ‘riled up.’  Because, as you know, the plot points in those two shows were absolutely scintillating: full of suspense and witty badinage.  So yes, last night’s “Downton Abbey” brought me back to the days of Gopher and Isaac playing clever pranks on Doc and Julie or Herve Villechaize running to Mr. Rourke to save a couple from the Guillotine in their desire to time travel to the French Revoluton.  Aha-ha-ha.  The horrors!

This confession on horrible television watching – and the ensuing emotional engagement – is only surpassed by a recent Facebook confession.  A friend of mine asked people to write in what was the most embarrassing record album that they still owned.  Duran Duran and Milli Vanilli made the ranks, but my owning Andy Gibb’s Shadow Dancing garnered me first place.  So now that I have achieved retro and current geekdom for both television and music, it’s time to seek out my entry for embarrassing film confession.

Think I’ll save that for the next writer’s block.  You all have received enough fodder for one day.

As ever,

K. Quinn