How QVC and DVR Ruined Saved My Life…
I have never been cool. In fact, I’ve always been pretty far from cool. But QVC and DVR have collided in my world, sending me even further into the abyss of uncoolness.
But, before we get there, let’s first examine the evidence surrounding my statement, “I have never been cool.”
For starters, I spent the first 5 years of my life playing with no one other than my 6 foot tall stuffed gorilla, George. He even had his own bed in my bedroom. (This may be the source of my most serious problems.) There were no neighborhood children to play with because we lived on a very busy street with only businesses around us. While I did attend preschool with other children, my first attempt at being cool was to flash my classmates during circle time and this resulted in nothing but snickering from my friends and a lengthy time out. NOT cool.
When my mother became pregnant with my only sister when I was 5 years old, we had to move to a bigger house. (Apparently George the gorilla didn’t want to give up his spot in my room.) Sadly, just a few years after moving, a business developer purchased our old house for millions so they could tear it down and build a strip mall. If we had only waited a few years, we could have been millionaires. Maybe then I would have been cool! Anyways, by the time I started school, I was shy; painfully shy and had an intense passion for learning. After school, I would come home and play…school. I’d line up my dolls and pretend I was their teacher. My parents would buy me workbooks for fun – and I loved them! But, of course, all of this is terribly uncool.
By the time I finished the first half of my first grade year, I had already had two of the most embarrassing moments of my life occur. One day while riding home from Kindergarten, my stomach churned and I puked all over myself. The bus driver brought me to the front of the bus and had me sit on the steps for the rest of the ride. She called this seat, “The Monkey Seat.” (She was horribly inappropriate.) Did she take me right home? No. She brought me (and perhaps the rest of my Kindergarten classmates – this part of the memory is a bit fuzzy. I probably was trying to dissociate.) to the Ford dealership in town where the buses were stored and hosed me and the bus down.
What could be more embarrassing that puking in front of all your friends? How about slipping on a patch of ice while walking to school in the first grade and landing so hard on your butt that your bladder explodes? It’s at least a close second. Cell phones didn’t exist yet so I had to walk the rest of the way to school (in pee pee pants) and then ask the teacher if I could go to the cafeteria to see my grandmother (the lunch lady – no joke) and call my parents. NOT cool. See. It was tough being me.
Add to the vomiting and peeing an advanced puberty phase so that I was the only girl with boobs in elementary school and you have a recipe for disaster. The boys would hang out the bus windows as they drove by me and yell comments about my “jugs.” How did I respond? I threw myself even harder into school work and in fifth grade earned the Spirit Award which may have had something to do with good grades and a good attitude but I think really should have been titled, “She’s the Biggest Dork There is Award.” NOT cool.
Middle school was a blur and I think was terrible for everyone so let’s skip to high school. I continued on my dorky path and focused my sights on college. As I settled into my Freshman English class on the first day of school, I noticed a very cute boy sitting next to me - a new boy. All the kids who chose to attend Catholic school for grades 1-8 had either moved on to private high schools or rejoined us in the slums of public high school. He leaned over to me and whispered, “Hey, I remember you!” What? Me? Oh my God!! He LOVES me! “You’re Jen Jackson.” Oh yes! Yes! I’ll marry you! “You’re the girl that threw up on the bus in Kindergarten.” Aaaaand, NOT cool.
What did I do? Did I vow to become cool? No.
Instead, I walked into the band director’s office and asked for a spot in the high school band – the marching band. You know, the ones with the sparkly blue cummerbund and bow tie. All my friends were in the band and the thought of eating lunch in the band room instead of the cafeteria seemed cool. Clearly my definition of “cool” left a bit to be desired. The only problem (or at least, the only problem I could see at the time) was that I played the piano and 1. You can’t march with a piano and 2. They didn’t need any more xylophone players. “I need a trombone player,” the band director’s voice boomed in my ear. Trombone? That big thing with the slide? That is SO not cool. “Sure! I’ll give it a try.”
I arrived at my first group trombone lesson confident that I could make trombone playing look cool. Naturally, I’d be good at it. Then, the lesson started and it quickly became evident that I sucked at playing the trombone. I walked away from that lesson with a deep hatred for one of my lesson mates. In fact, I wanted to kick him in the nut sack and I made up a nice nickname for him, “Talent Boy.” I swear at one point Mr. Bell (no lie – that was the band director’s real name), in a fit of frustration, turned to Talent Boy and asked him to show me how to play a certain note on the trombone. Clearly annoyed that a peon like me was allowed near a trombone, the student rolled his eyes, gave a deep sigh and played the note perfectly. Asshat. How that student later became my husband, I still don’t quite understand J Never one to give up, I took my new trusty trombone home with me and practiced all summer long. My poor neighbors! I practiced so much that I think I could still play the entire marching band set of Les Miserables with my eyes closed today. I arrived at band camp (see! Super NOT cool!!) that August and nailed the trombone part. One year later, I was first chair. Yay me!! Still, however, I was NOT cool.
So, you see, I have never been cool.
What about today? Sure I have some nice jewelry and a Coach purse but I wear sneakers to work with my dress pants and most days choose to keep my sneakers on all day because they are super comfy. I try not to leave my house without makeup on but you can find me every night around 11PM standing outside my house with my makeup smudged off, my hair in a messy bun, my cutoff yoga pants stained with toddler boogers, wearing boots even if it’s not snowing talking to two dogs about the benefits of pooping outside versus inside. See. Totally NOT cool.
But this weekend saw new depths of uncool and I have QVC and DVR to thank for it.
My love affair with QVC and HSN (the home shopping channels) started shortly after I had my second son, Jacob. Jacob was born with a full head of blonde spiky hair. He was also born with major attitude and a deep hatred for sleeping. He would only fall asleep while nursing and transitioning him from a held position into his crib was like being in the movie The Hurt Locker. His sleep habits went through cycles during his first 6 months. At one point, he would only sleep in his crib if he was in his bouncy seat with his blanky in as dark a room as possible with either a real hair dryer on or the ipod looping a hairdryer sound. Since he slept for 1-2 hours at a time, he and I spent a lot of time awake in the middle of the night. My only comfort during these times was that I had a tv in my bedroom to keep me company while I fed Jacob and tried to get him to go back to sleep.
But, as you can imagine, it was hard to hear the TV over the hairdryer (and the snoring husband). So, I needed to watch something without sound. Turns out the home shopping channels are actually quite entertaining at 2AM and as I was underemployed and/or laid off during Jacob’s early months, I didn’t have extra money to spend so there was no risk of me picking up the phone and ordering anything. Over time, however, I started to turn on HSN or QVC during the daytime – especially during commercials. This is where DVR comes in. I hate commercials. When I tape a television show and replay it on DVR, I can skip through the commercials as if they never happened (hooray!!!). What do I do when I am watching a show in real time and commercials come on? Why, I flip to another channel of course. My first “go to” channel is always HSN or QVC to see if they are selling anything good. Please don’t worry, the irony of enjoying home shopping presentations while hating commercials is not lost on me. I know I am not alone. In fact, I once realized while chatting on the phone with a very good friend that we both had QVC on in the background. Of course, her husband doesn’t point and laugh at her when it’s on like mind does. Instead he orders the amazing pop-corn maker.
I know by now you are thinking, “What the hell? Get to your point already!”
This weekend found me at one point sitting on my living room couch in front of the TV watching something in real time – not DVR. So, I of course flipped to QVC when the commercials started. And there is was – a kitchen item so versatile, so practical, so affordable and so insanely cute that I just had to have it! And with 8 color options to choose from, the only thing standing in my way was Talent Boy(and, I would later come to realize, my last shred of dignity).
I realized that Talent Boy would need some persuading to approve the purchase as it was not really his style. So, I bided my time and waited for the perfect opportunity to wow him with my great find that would look perfect in our kitchen and would earn us great praise at dinner parties - you know, ‘cause we have so many of those! When I saw my opportunity, I pounced. I pulled up the product on the computer screen and said, “Ok. I have something to show you and I know it’s not really in line with our usual kitchen décor but it is SO cute AND it’s microwave/dishwasher AND oven safe up to 500 degrees AND it comes with a cover and trivet. So, have an open mind.” With that killer introduction, I spun the computer to face him and he eyed the screen for 30 seconds and said, “Jenni. What is WRONG with you?”
That’s when it hit me. I am completely NOT cool. I don't always follow the crowd. In fact, sometimes I am oblivious to the crowd. I may be 3 cats and 1 mumu nightgown away from being that crazy old cat lady down the street. No one will ever look to me as a trend setter. And, you know what? I don’t really care because I happen to think this:
is adorable AND functional and at only $26.14, how can I resist?
So, thank you QVC and DVR for allowing me to see that it's ok to just be me. And to Talent Boy, clear a space on our counter because this little rooster roaster will soon be ours!
