Watching, Listening, Reading

The sky was blue for about 20 minutes yesterday, but otherwise it's been a long rainy week here in Chicago. We're so close to Spring Break - each gray morning is another reminder of how much we all need some time away. Summoning the motivation to do anything other than curl up on the couch after work is getting more and more difficult. Luckily, I've found enjoyment and escape in a few different forms of entertainment:

Prison Break: IT'S BACK, PEOPLE. (Obvious spoilers to anyone who never watched the original show.) Yes, eight years after the finale, Prison Break 2.0 dares to ask the question we were all wondering: What if Michael didn't die? This nine episode "sequel" premiered yesterday and with close to 4 million viewers, it looks like fans are on board with whatever intense/complex/far-fetched storyline writers and producers have up their sleeves. I certainly am - seeing Lincoln, Dr. Tancredi, C-Note, T-Bag, Sucre, and Michael back on my TV screen is nostalgia I'm down for.

S-Town: What a strange and beautiful podcast. I went into it thinking I'd hear about an unsolved mystery, or at the very least the shady workings of a small town in Alabama, and I ended with a greater understanding of my humanity. S-Town (Shit Town) tells the story of a creative, tortured, and one-of-a-kind genius, with forays into the lives of other characters and descriptions of places and situations I'm completely unfamiliar with. Since all seven episodes are available, this podcast listens more like an audiobook than a series with weekly installments, but pace yourselves nonetheless.

Yes Please: Speaking of audiobooks, I had a hunch that listening to Amy Poehler read her own book would be worth not having something physical to hold/page through/look back on to find perfectly witty nuggets of advice and I wasn't wrong. Poehler reads like she means it - because she does. No droning or monotone voices here, just a lifelong writer/improviser bringing her own words to life before my very ears.

All These Wonders: If this collection of "True Stories About the Unknown" from the Moth is as enchanting as the cover and Neil Gaiman's foreword, I've got some wonderful reading ahead of me. Gaiman writes, "Honesty matters. Vulnerability matters. Being open about who you were at a moment in time when you were in a difficult or an impossible place matters more than anything." I mean, c'mon.