night on the sun

i’m not going to lie.  yesterday i went deep into an intervention hole.  in some ways you would think watching a reality show about people addicted to all kinds of shit and destroying their lives would make my own life seem pretty tip top.  except when my roommate comes by and smiles and i am like, oh shit, he’s judging me.  that is a guilty conscience talking.  the conscience of a reality television addict.  and a klondike addict.  because my new thing is playing klondike on my ipod and watching my computer.  complete mind distraction.  the rest of the time i think about how my intervention intervention would go.

first there would be a few shots of me staring at my ipod and halfway at my computer.  time-lapse maybe.  it would start early and the light in the room would change (they would have to fake that since my living room is cave-like at all hours of the day).  i might get up and make tea.  i might change positions on the couch.  my phone would ring, i would look at the caller id and push ignore.  i would fall asleep.

then there would be interviews with family and friends.  my mom would say, “i am so worried that lizzy doesn’t realize what she is doing to that couch.  it smells so strange and the springs on the back are completely destroyed.”

my dad would be like, “she has so much potential.  she was such a happy child.  i just don’t know what went wrong.”

jade would say, “she never leaves her house.  if lizzy doesn’t get help, i will not be her friend anymore.  it’s just too hard.”

then the clincher: my brother would tear up and say, “i just want my sister back.”

then they would do the whole title sequence and i would get my whole head in the screen and say, “my name is lizzy.  l-i-z-z-y.  and i am addicted to klondike and depressing shit available to watch for free on the internet.”

i wonder what kind of treatment centers are available?

last night i finally couldn’t take intervention anymore so i moved on to 16 and pregnant.  do you guys know how sad america is?  isn’t there something we can do to help?  and does dr. drew realize his fake tan makes him look like a gigolo child molester which makes his hand on the arm of the poor teen moms in the season finale seem all the more superficial and depressing?

i swear i did other things yesterday.  i’m a functioning addict.  i went to yoga and got a new mattress and then went and met up with some friends at top of the mark, which a cool bar place on top of a fancy hotel on nob hill.  my friend ami is moving away.  everyone moves away.  i should join the peace corps.

anyway, i got up way too early.  jade and jessie and i are headed to calistoga this morning.  thank god.

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