MTV reruns & commercial break nostalgia

I spent Sunday afternoon in a hungover haze from Saturday nights warehouse party, enough pot to knock out a frat house and dancing for 5 hours in those thrifted aligator platforms that are a size too big but jesus they looked fucking cool. See? I haven't learned fucking shit.

I was delighted. I found an online TV platform. FREE online TV. Online TV, for free, with commercial breaks and channels playing NCIS and Law & Order reruns, old MTV from the 2000s, 90s rom-coms, a channel dedicated to Battlestar Galactic, another to Project Runway. It was a revelation. It felt like everything I had been missing- filling a gap I didn't even know was there (correction, I ALWAYS feel like I'm missing something, I just didn't know this was one of the pieces). I felt liberated by the lack of choice. By the beauty of stumbling onto a movie halfway through, of watching epidsodes out of order, of thinking "eh that's good enough". I watched Cribs while I ate breakfast, Buzzfeed Unsolved with lunch, a Battlestar marathon in the afternoon. I saw 15 minutes from the middle of Grease (never my thing), I watched 2/3 of the second Hunger Games. I cleaned my entire house during the commercial breaks. I hallucinated hearing my moms voice from the other room "yell when it comes back on!". I felt happy and peaceful and nestled in a little cocoon of Say Yes to the Dress, Sunday afternoons floating in Sami's swimming pool and zero responsibilities. I wanted to go to Target, experience the total sensory experience of walking through the sliding glass doors, transitioning from swampy and muggy air to freezing ac and that weird popcorn target smell and the $1 section full of shit I don't need. I want to spend money on some cheap bullshit and ride home with my feet hanging out the winbdow and a stolen lipstick in my pocket (sorry mom).

It felt like I was back in the time before, when the internet was a place- The Internet- and not just a permenant aspect of existence. I'm not even that old. This shit has just accelerated at an unprecedented rate. And no one gives a fuck about how your great grandma grew up with horses and wagons and lived to see a man on the moon. BORING. Call me crazy but I think it's way more insane to have gone from a world without cell phones to one where every jackass knows the anwszers to everything thanks to his Claude fucking pro account. Shoot me. Lay me down, turn on reruns of The Hills, maybe an episode of My Super Sweet Sixteen as a palette cleanser, let me write a farewell tumblr post ("so long and goodnight"), and take me out.