Addiction

There's something I've been trying to fight for about two years now.

When I was unemployed, I had a rule that I couldn't watch TV during the day. I stuck to this rule. I more than made up for it, however, at night. Since I had no reason to go to bed early and no money to go out, and because the ex sometimes decided to come home after work, I watched a lot of late night TV. In fact, I watched The Powerpuff Girls every morning at 2, religiously.

For a time, they showed old episodes of My So-Called Life on The N. Naturally, I watched them. Before and after MSCL, there was a show I'd sometimes catch a bit of. Although I never made a point to watch it, I'd find myself sucked in to five minutes here, or ten minutes there, or sometimes even a full episode of this show. A Canadian show. A childhood favorite, but with new characters and new storylines and new complicated adolescent themes.

The show? Degrassi: The Next Generation. Now that I've made a rule about not drinking on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Wednesdays, I'm often home trying to be productive on those nights. This week in particular, I've found myself drawn to the Degrassi. When Marco told Spinner he was gay, I couldn't tear myself away. When Emma (who The Roommate likens to an "emaciated grasshopper") got herself all slutted up to try to get funky with Chris, I cringed and worried about what would happen. The show is scary good. I'm going to go there and say it -- it's as good as the original. And last night, I clicked on the "Record Entire Season" option on my DVR. In fact, I'm thinking of inviting Kevin Smith over for a Degrassi marathon one of these Friday nights.