Living with a Boy and the Effects on TV Viewing

Ever since Monica decided to give Rachel the boot and engage in a pre-marital shack-up, I had always admired how blissfully natural the transition was for her and Chandler (and by admired I of course mean flexed my skepticism). Had anything really changed you ask? Well, Monica still spent majority of her down hours vacuuming while Chandler spent them complaining so… well… no. But wait! Were we as an engaged audience privy to their prime time viewing habits? No, no we were not. That said, I’d like to now paint you a picture of how that likely went:

Monica: “Food Network”

Chandler: “Cartoon Network”

Monica: “Grey’s Anatomy”

Chandler: “Cartoon network”

Monica: “Die”

Chandler: “Cartoon network”

For those who don’t already know (but have probably guessed by now) manfriend and I have made the great leap and entered into a domestic partnership. Honestly speaking I would say that the move had nothing but wildly positive results… except one…

IF I WATCH SPEED CHANNEL FOR ONE MORE EFFING MINUTE I’M GOING TO BURN THE ENTIRE APARTMENT TO THE GROUND.

Phewwwwwwwwf… that felt nice to get off my chest. To all my faithful readers, my apologies for the lack of television commentary over the past few months (cough… year). I have little to annotate on other than the cruel monotony of a NASCAR race. My summer pledge to you, however, is to take back the ultimate right of the remote control and reclaim my throne as Sofalista, blogger of the lazy and television addicted. How am I going to do that, you ask? Simple… I am a woman aren’t I ;)

I’ve begun to lay the co-viewing foundation very subtly as not to lead manfriend on to my master plot. The key is to find a hook, spit out random facts of interest to the opposite party, and then convince him he’s enjoying a show for a completely falsified reason. For example:

“Beb, did you hear it was Lady GaGa night on Idol? I heard she eats Scotty McCreery’s ear off.”

“No way that’s nuts!”

“Yeah I think it’s on now, want to see?”

“Alight. Let me get a beer.”

Of course this process is slow at first, but before you know it he’ll be saying “hey… isn’t American Idol on tonight?” And that’s when you know you’ve won.

American Idol is the second of my two successes in the battle of the “clicker.” The first was the ground breaking win of “How I Met Your Mother.” I reeled him in with the “bro quotes” at the end of every episode. Soon enough he couldn’t wait to sit through an episode. Some losses? Yes, it pains me to say I’ve not been undefeated in this quest. I see little hope for a “Glee night” or “Gossip Girl night” in our future as a live-in couple. Though, I can only say that Glee brought it upon itself with that pathetic excuse for a season finale. Mercedes and Sam? Vom.

And so I venture on… a woman on a mission armed with TV listings and a dream. Next step: So You Think You Can Dance. Stay tuned.

Editor's Note: Upon posting the above Manfriend had retaliated with a "no TV game night" suggestion to foster "bonding." I have surely met my match...