Golden dreams

The fiancé likes to fall asleep to The Golden Girls. He grabs an episode off the TiVo, turns the volume way down and sets the TV timer for 30 minutes. And both of us are usually out cold before Blanche says something slutty, Rose says something stupid or Dorothy wears something asymmetrical.

Which is weird. And not Bea-Arthur-in-a-diagonal-zippered-caftan weird. I mean weird in the sense that normally I'm a moth to a flame when the TV is on. Even for things I find ridiculous like football or home shopping or Mitt Romney. Even when I'm already doing something that usually totally engages me like playing Scrabulous!™ or cataloging my sparkly underpants. If there is a TV on and I'm within three ZIP codes of it, I will find it. And I will be powerlessly drawn to it. Bright screen ... warm glow ... flickering images ... mindless content ... must ... watch ...

And yet The Golden Girls has almost no sway over me. Oh, sure—once in a while when I'm not particularly sleepy or I'm feeling extra cuddly with the fiancé pressed up against me and I just want to savor the moment for a while before I drift off, I'll stay up and watch the show in the hopes that one of the girls will say lanai or Blanche will bring home a guy who's actually attractive for once.

But otherwise, the show is as compelling to me as exclusive coverage of a starlet with a drug problem.

Then again, if there's one thing I can do better than anyone on this planet, it's fall asleep. I hate to brag, but I can climb in bed and be asleep before the lightbulb gets cold. And usually nothing can wake me—not thunderstorms, not marching bands, not flaming housepets ... unfortunately, not even my alarm on most mornings. So it's not surprising that The Golden Girls continues to lose Bedtime Smackdown! every night.

But all bets are off when the fiancé is out of town. Like tonight. When I have the whole bed to myself I seem to lie awake forever—albeit with my fair share of the pillows for once. And as luck would have it, the only Golden Girls on our TiVo is the one where Dorothy wears that turquoise top with the gold lamé shrug. And it's waaaaay too loud to let me sleep.