Anderson, oh Anderson!

I have become something of a news junkie. People who have met me more recently think this is the way I've always been, but it's not true. I remember a time when I was blissfully unaware of what was going on in the world. People at work would start conversations about this event or that to-do that was shown on the news that morning and I'd look at them blankly. I was usually more interested in when the next powwow was, or if Leisure Arts came out with a new crochet pattern.

Then we went to war with Iraq. I don't know what it was about that invasion, but I was hooked. I would come home from work and flip the TV on to watch it, turn up the volume so I could hear the most recent movements of the troops while I was cooking dinner. I resented having to work because that was 8 hours I couldn't keep track of what was going on in Iraq. The websites for MSNBC and CNN became my lifelines while I was away from home. At home, I was getting high off embedded reporters.

I'm not sure how, but I managed to pull myself away from the war. Maybe it was the murder of Lacy Peterson that turned me away. Just as likely it could have been some speech Bush gave. Whatever, my TV time started dying out. Thankfully. I discovered I had other things to do, including crochet. Life started going back to normal, but my addiction already started. It was just in remission.

Until Katrina. The Hell those people had to go through before help got to them broke my heart, as inane as that sounds. No one should have to make the decisions some of those people were forced to make. Our young shouldn't have to watch their mothers drowning while they scrambled for semi-safety on the roof. Our elders shouldn't be abandoned in their homes or nursing homes where they had no chance. Our response to their pleas for help shamed my Americanism, and I am not exactly a good little patriot. My eyes were glued to the news channels again. Specifically, CNN. Even more specifically, Anderson Cooper.

Anderson Cooper gave those people a voice the rest of us heard loud and clear and he's still doing it all these months after. He lent them dignity and maybe even a little hope that things would be told the way they were and not sugar coated. And he did it with sensitivity.

My addiction was reinstated during Katrina, but if truth be known, it's Anderson Cooper that's kept me coming back.

And this is the part, ladies and gentlemen, where I admit to having a major crush on the man. He's skinny and gray headed and can be cocky as all hell, but I can't get over him. He is also intelligent and sensitive to the stories he's covering. His way with people comes through no matter what the subject matter is about. He's got a quirky laugh and sometimes his staff play jokes on him that surprise him while he's on air.

My addiction to the news started because of the war and the fire was fed during the Hurricane Katrina coverage. But the hurricanes are over and the news has moved on to other things. Tonight I'm learning about how Target has a crime lab they let the authorities use. A few nights ago I learned that Mr. Cooper likes blogging.

And the crush goes on.

Mari's Musings

I'm not quite sure why chocolate is addicting, but that's never stopped an addiction before. I know all the rumors that say it releases the same endorphins the body releases when one is in love and that's why it's so addicting. Maybe there's some truth in that, but for me, it's just plain dangerous!

I get it in cravings. I'll be minding my own business innocently reading a book when suddenly BAM!!! If I don't get me some chocolate RIGHT NOW I can't be held responsible for the pandemonium that might ensue.

Any chocolate will do usually, but my all time favorite is Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. They have to be the actual peanut butter cups, though. Not the cheating "bites" you can get of most candies at the store anymore. Part of the addiction is the ritual. Ripping the candy cup out of its paper wrapper. Then you nibble the funny crinkly edges. Then you bite into just the outter skin of chocolate and with your tongue try to work the peanut butter out. (Careful girls, men have been known to go insane while watching a girl work out the peanut butter.) Once you've gotten as much peanut butter out as you possibly can, you collapse the whole thing with your front teeth and slide the disks onto your tongue and suck the stuff down to a ooey gooey mass.

Chocolate is a serious thing!

*Sighs hugely.*

Actually, I have a theory about Reese's. It's a reincarnation theory. The way I figure it is, I must have done something really awful to Harry B Reese in some previous lifetime. REALLY awful. Mr Reese felt the need to come back to life and invent Reese's Peanut Butter Cups knowing FULL WELL that I would become addicted to them.

When I tell you I have no control over my chocolate obsession, and am totally knocked senseless when it comes to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, I am giving you an accurate description. I HAVE NO CONTROL.

Harry, what could I have done to you and when will the karmic debt be paid?

Sorry folks. I'd finish this off more gracefully, but I have some peanut butter cups I need to finish eating!