I have definitely cut back on my TV and bulked up my reading. At least this way, after 45 minutes of immobility, I feel like I accomplished something besides finding out what Tony Hawk and [insert random pro sports player here] have in their fridges.

Great Fantasy with Gay Leads:

Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner. Written in the eighties or nineties, set in a fantasy version of France when dueling was popular, one of the leads is a duelist-for-hire. It's full of politics and color, very well done.

Luck in the Shadows by Lynn Flewelling.
A young man is accused of crime he didn't commit and thrown in jail. His cellmate is more than he seems. They have some fast-paced adventures and fall in love. It's not explicit, neither is Swordspoint, but taken for granted as normal; which is nice.

And a really good non-fiction book is The Great Influenza, about the 1918 epidemic. It gives a lot of the history of medicine and insight into the research which developed from this tragedy.

Another, lighter, non-fiction recommendation is any of Henry Mitchell's gardening essays. He gardened in D.C. but much of his message is applicable to gardens everywhere. They're well written and full of good humor mixed with some curmudgeonly commentary. I particularly like the essay where he points out that people are easily confused by apple sex.

She is very literal, and prefers her TeeVee that way too. Psych is acceptable, for that is within the realm of what is possible. Robot Chicken is also okay, because, being parody, it is okay to stretch the bounds of believability. Family Guy, sadly, is out. I dare not even tell her about Adam West as The Mayor. Her head will explode.