In this past year, I have been able to pretty much conquor some of my vices, like white sugar and carbonated drinks, but there is one I will not give up. For time wasting, it can't be beat. I am talking about the SciFi channel.
Monday nights, a t.v. wasteland in my opinion, has been rescued by Bitten, a SciFi Channel series that has captured my heart, which is just what the main characters want, not to mention other body parts. Bitten is the story of a hot, young career wolf in the city, trying to resolve a human fiancee, lunch dates with the girls, her shrink, also a w.w., and the "boys," her kinky wolf family upstate living in a glam but creepy hunting (get it?) lodge.
High production values, soap opera issues, much like another favorite of mine, Nashville, but with fur and teeth. Well, maybe that, too, but less howling. No wait, that too. Well, it is a lot like Nashville.
One thing that struck me right off the first time I saw Bitten, was how werewolves used to transform into wolves with bad wardrobes - plaid flannel shirts, raggy jeans and so forth. But when this chick transforms, she sheds her fetchingly color coordinated bra and panties, although it is chilly out and pretty damp and misty looking, and leaves them neatly folded so she can get to them later. You have to give her points for neatness and good lingerie.
There is also an African-American werewolf, the shrink, whom she calls her cousin, so without more episodes, I don't know whether he is either or both. Anyway, it probably doesn't matter. High time, I say, for a little werewolf diversity. And please don't tell me Jacob is Native American and that equals diversity. Teenager outsider types who ride motorbikes don't count. Also, he had bad clothes, what clothes he actually had, and this shrink/cousin is impeccably turned out.
And while we are speaking, loosely, of innards and entrails and that sort of thing, I am wondering whether I should get a FitBit or its equivalent, as my trainer suggests. I know a guy who has one, and he is obsessed by how many steps he takes a day. Somebody, somewhere decided we should all take 1,000, steps a day. At least I think that's the number. Maybe it's 10,000. Doesn't matter, it's a heck of a lot of walking around whatever it is is. Anyway, the FitBit counts your steps for you rather than have you mumbling in the grocery store "a pound of sliced turkey, nine hundred fifty," which could lead to all sorts of misunderstandings. It also keeps track of your heart rate, which is the real reason he wants me to get it. I need more aerobic exercise.
Now I have a very slow heart rate. Just this side of zombie. That can make a person lethargic, which I don't really see as a downside. Lethargy gets a bad rap, in my opinion. Anyway, the FitBit supposedly leads to greater self-awareness which in turns leads to jogging up the stairs with a basket of laundry, or something like that.
The guy I know who wears a FitBit is entirely too self aware, as far as I am concerned. One of it's advertied pluses is that it will wake you up (presumbly for your morning meditation and triathalon)
by quietly vibrating on your wrist, so as not to wake up your sleeping partner. I'll bet my friend's wife loves that one. If she's smart, she'll move into a bedroom of her own and leave him and his FitBit to whatever it is they have together.
So the FitBit is on hold for now, until I am convinced to buy yet another tiny adorable electronic device, which I am a sucker for every time. I am at least that self aware. And if I can get it with one touch on Amazon with no shipping charges, so much the better. I'm sticking to werewolves, for now, and a good deal of sitting lethargically in front of the t.v. on Monday nights.
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