All the Lovely Porcelain People

Right now I could be reading a classic novel, learning about physics, practising some of the crafts I've been prone to lately or, hell, even doing some work. Instead I’ve spent most of my waking hours of the last week watching Smallville. In the few months prior to this I watched all 6 seasons of Dawson’s Creek and yesterday attempted to subdue my insanity with a couple of episodes of The OC.

The Fella and I have been watching a copious amount of Smallville lately, trying to catch up on Season 10, and the more I watch the more I wonder what it is about these American Teen programs that hook me in to this box set or streaming mania? I can’t stand girls with far too much make up on, I abhor generic ‘alternative’ soft-rock and I have no time for rich people who complain. So what is it about these programs?

I can roughly trace my sickness back to about 4 years ago with one annoying squeaky 12 year old looking girl and a middle aged woman trying to act the same age, both of whom were talking way too fast for untrained ears to decipher. The Gilmore Girls obsession of 2007 commenced shortly after it started being aired daily on E4, much to the chagrin of my boyfriend. I think the speed of the talking must have confused and hypnotised me because before I knew it I was getting frustrated with a having to wait a whole 24 hours for the next episode and went ahead and purchased the last 2 seasons on DVD. 4 years later and all 7 seasons would be sat on my shelf if my now inflicted sister wasn't currently borrowing them.

Can someone please tell me why when I am part way through reading ‘Frankenstein’, so far an amazing novel, I leave it on my bedside table while I happily subject myself to E4’s daily helpings of American trite? (Not including Buffy of course!) I’m pained to admit that it took me nearly 5 months to get through 1984 yet it took me a matter of weeks to get through the first 5 seasons of How I Met Your Mother. I’m not a particularly slow reader and I much prefer the idea of losing myself in the imagination of the written word than staring at all the lovely porcelain people but somehow the discipline or 'effort' to actually sit down to read evades me.

Most tele-addicts like myself have rolled their eyes at Big Brother telling us how much television we should be watching. This has never really bothered me but when I’m resorting to watching programs that consistently induce me to make gagging noises followed by me searching franticly for the next episode, I think thats when I need to admit that I have a problem. I wonder if they have support groups for this?