csi miami – T.A. Henry

There are times when I just feel so…empty of joy. When I am sad and suffering malaise and my heart needs time to process the new normal. I am not a rapid processor. It can take me some months to come to terms with changes in status. By which I mean things like the death of a friend, betrayal by someone, or just a general crappy feeling of being overwhelmed and unable to accept more. God help me when all three coincide – hello life.

Now I am a big TV watcher. I am. I like to crawl into the bed at the end of the day and just watch an episode, or half an episode, and drift off to sleep. It soothes me. But when I get into one of the aforementioned malaise situations, I can’t watch TV I like. What if my state of dysfunction makes me not like the show anymore. And I can’t watch anything new because I know I won’t like it. So that leaves me with….

CSI Miami, because it’s already so bad, it can’t be ruined by my mood. LOL

What do you watch when you have the doldrums?

I apologize for digressing from my Norwescon info dump but I realized that writers, specifically Hollywood writers, do not possess any knowledge of how things actually work or if they do, they go out of their way to pretend they don’t. Let me paint you a picture.

I was in fact working on a picture for my hubby’s upcoming birthday while more or less listening to reruns of CSI Miami. Yes, I know. It was not a good show but that’s all the better as it doesn’t distract me from what I’m really doing, painting the picture for my hubby. The basis of the episode is a guy kills his high school school bully because the guy wrapped him up in duct tape and stuck him in a locker. He even goes so far as to show these horrible scars worthy of full thickness burns to explain how much trouble the hospital had getting the tape off.

All I could think was, one good cross dresser could have save your ass. Baby oil my friend. Pour it on and it releases the adhesive. What makes me so sure? Used it. Both the tape (backless, strapless bride’s maid gown) and the baby oil to get it off, which I learned from the fabulously costumed cross dresser in the French Quarter.

Are you really going to tell me no one in that hospital knew that?

Not one writer on that show knew that?

They knew but it was better for the “plot” to play dumb.

Never pretend you don’t know what you do. Let it shine in your writing.

Ok I’ll make a playing dumb exception for imminent peril, but only for that. LOL