Telly-time, Books, PBL and Absolute Randomness

May 10, 2008

My mother asked me why I never liked the series ‘Ghost Whisperer’. I told her it was terribly depressing and that I could not watch something as emo and low as that.

 

She said that I was too sensitive.

 

So in an attempt to prove that I’m not too sensitive, I watched an episode today. I rose to the challenge.

 

Gods, that series is one fucking emotional rollercoaster.

 

The episode was about an autistic couple. Autistic people have trouble expressing emotions and don’t even know what some emotions mean. They are incapable of showing love and in dealing with an autistic patient, one must have incredible patience. Over time, their loyalty to you is possibly the slightest indicator of their emotions for you.

 

Anyhoo, in this scenario, one partner dies and the other gets blamed for his death.

 

Depressing right?

 

How is it depressing?

 

1. People incapable of showing love, finding their other half and the other half DIES.
2. If that isn’t bad enough, the other half that lives on gets blamed for it.
3. The saddest part? When it was discovered that it was an accident and not a murder, the ghost whisperer realises that the partner that died (and communicates with the ghost whisperer) was just trying to make sure that the other half that lived on gets to meet her mother.
4. The kicker – before the dead partner crosses over, he asks the ghost whisperer ‘what’s it like to love?’

 

Good grief.

 

This got me thinking, naturally.

 

The hardest thing in the world to do, for me, would be to watch my significant other pass on. Or anyone else I love, for that matter. Death itself is so sad, all that knowledge, experience, emotions, life lessons. . .it’s so valuable. And does it all just go? One moment the person is there, then he’s not. It’s heart-wrenching and it’s one of life’s experiences I’ve yet to endure, a loved one passing on. I’d like to never ever have to go through it but I’ve always been one for logic and since living forever is ridiculous and possibly not desirable in the long future, I guess one day will come when I do get that experience.

 

Sure, I write morbid short stories. But they’re just morbid. And not SAD. Sad and morbid, two completely different things.

 

Alright, that’s it. I need a new series.  So on a completely different and less heart-wrenching note =D

 

I’ve started downloading “The L Word”.  What is it about?

 

Wonderboy : A bunch of lesbians having sex.

Me : REALLY?

Wonderboy : Yeap

Me : Have you watched it?

Wonderboy : Nope, but I’d like to.

Me : And L stands for. . .

Wonderboy : . . .er, LESBIAN?

Me : *blinks*

Wonderboy : You thought it stood for Love, didn’t you?

Me : No. . .

Wonderboy : *snorts* You optimist.

 

 

It’s amazing what they’ll think of next. Tho I’d probably barf at the creation of a series featuring incredibly gorgeous men that are all gay. Ugh. I’m not prejudiced against homos, with overpopulation going around, we could with a few.

 

Ah. I’ve finally realised I’ve got something to do which I’ve completely forgotten about.

 

PBL.  We’ve got a new faci who makes us look up ALL the learning issues and won’t hear of topic segregation. I’m not complaining tho, it’s much more enlightening to have a Professor as a faci than some third-rate BS lecturer who sleeps during sessions and only wakes up to ask :

 

Mr Niraj : Why so quiet, Ashvini?

Gajan : Are you kidding me sir, we can’t get her to shut up!

Me : Thanks. I think.

 

-_-

 

People love me.