Sitcom Musings

Hello dear readers!  Do you remember me?  Vaguely?

I've been suffering from a case of the flu, which led to a dire case of computer phobia.  I think I am suffering from exhaustion, and not in the fun Lindsey Lohan, I have spent a week at the Château Marmont partying like it's the seventies and I am every member of Led Zeppelin way.

Nope, more in a "I am so excited for all these social and volunteer events I have going on, I just wish that I could lay on the couch and read a book" exhaustion.

So less sex, drugs and rock and roll, and more showers, opera and Junior League.

I am getting old. 

Anyway, once fully recovered from the flu to move myself to couch from my bed, (while being nursed by a very attentive Buddy Bear, naturally), I caught up on some favorite sitcoms which led me to a few revelations.

Namely, I still want my marriage/family life to emulate the Cosby Show.  When Hubs starts eating meatball subs at odd hours, and putting on jazz while wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, I'll know we are on the right track.  If our future children put on shows for my parents involving lip syncing to Ray Charles. . .well, my life will pretty much be complete.

Rue McLanahan celebrated a birthday this week.  I have always wanted to be Blanche, but I am suuucch a Rose.  Sigh.

Finally, why they can't they reboot something good like Designing Women.  I mean don't pull a Bev Hills New Sauce, but give me a show about Southern women, why don't you?  Yes,  I am in a fly-over state.  I don't live in California or NYC, and occasionally would like to see something where I am!  (Florida doesn't count).  I think Mary Kay Andrews books would make a darling sitcom!  Let's get on it please!

Speaking of opera and television, I was tickled to death to note on Monday that Blair was scheming to get on the opera board. . . now if I could just have her wardrobe.