Friday, December 21, 2012

Capeside High School Junior, at least in Season Two

It's "let's play a game" time, again!  HO HO HO, FUCKING MERRRRRY CHRISTMAS!

Today's game is called:  Name this late-90's series that was really too young for me, even at that time, that I watched religiously, and now am re-visiting via Netflix, end-to-end, in chronological order!!!

Name it!!!

Need a hint?

Here you go:


Y'all, girl, please.  What is wrong with this girl, who is truly in her late 30s, even though she tries to pull off early 30s, which is still a solid decade and a half too old to like this show.  To, ahem, even shed a few tears at the conclusion of Season 1, when Jen's (SPOILER ALERT) gramps died and Dawson and Joey did a little smooching.


Here's my analysis, here's why I think this is so appealing to me, right now.

1) Set in a New England town:  As you may or may not care, I went to high school in a small town in Connecticut.  Which is to say, a non-seaside town, not even on Long Island Sound, but close e-goddamn-nough.  We spoke with similar cadences to Dawson, which should surprise NOBODY because...  guess what?

James Van Der Beek?  FROM THE SAME TOWN.

Yep.  I know him, at least, I did know him, once upon a time, which meant that, back in 1998, when I had my first obession with this show, this phone call happened:

Me:  "Hi, Jay, look, there's this show, Dawson's Creek, you know, and, have you seen it?  I swear, I can't put my finger on it, but the Dawson guy is just... so familiar..."

Janie:  "Idiot.  We went to high school with him.  James Van Der Beek, only he was usually called "that loser Van Der Geek."

(She didn't really call me an idiot.  She probably thought it, though.  She may also not have shared the slur against his majesty himself, although I definitely, at that time remembered a production of Lil' Abner starring himself, wherein I thought, hey, this guy is super adorable, and then, hey, this guy is a total douchebag.  So there you go.)

2)  Blonde high school age boys:  My very favorite first love in the whole wide world was a blonde boy in my high school.  A boy who was artistic and sensitive and adorable and tall and thin and had super light blonde hair and it flopped in his eyes and he was a super awesome perfect first love, and I treated him like shit because I was a TOTAL BITCH.  But anyway, I was also stupid and in high school, so I forgive myself.  Because I'm rad now.  In addition, we did NOT talk the way the DC kids do, we did not use the big words and speak reallyfuckingquickly causing mid-to-late-30's age people to stop and rewind all of our Deep Conversations, but otherwise, TOTALLY THE SAME.

3)  1998:  DC originally debuted in 1998, wherein I was 23, living in my Very Own Apartment with a little Beanie who was 4.  I was being a grown-up, ish, but still waffled between trying to be Very Grown Up (i.e., watching Ally McBeal) and Embracing My Youth (i.e., Dawson for the win).  But I flipping ADORE the music of that time.  Jann Arden.  Sarah McICan'tSpellHerLastNameAndSheHasRuinedDogsForMe.  Mandy Moore.

Oh, yes, Mandy Moore.  God I want to be her.

As an aside, I'm pretty sure my 1998 Boyfriend ALSO wanted to be her.  Not WITH her, mind you. 


4)  Boats are pretty.

So what's going on?  Am I having a mid-life, I-miss-my-youth, Single-again-feeling-angsty moment?  

Nah.  I just think the show is visually gorgeous, well-written, and entertaining.  With great music.  So fuck it.

So, in the interest of Christmas Cheer, I'm going to do the following all weekend:

Sleep.  Eat.  Be Merry.  Watch A Boat Parade.  Attend a Christmas Party.  Cook.  Shop a little (I'm actually pretty much done, BOOM.)  Watch MOTHERFUCKINGDAWSON'SCREEKSEASONTWO and KNIT.

How badly do you want to be me?

You know you do.

Merry Christmas from Capeside!!! 

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Tipsy Tina

Two times each year, we have drink-at-work days.  Now, mind you, la boss lady does not know that we consider these days thus, but she also drink-at-works, so fuck it.  Fuck it.

Anyway.  So this is one of those days.  It's called a Poinsettia.  It consists of cheap-ass champagne and cranberry juice.  AND I LOVE IT.

Later, today will be called "Annual Deal With Being Mildly Hungover At Work Day," but right now, no.  Right now is a BOSS.

In return for this bullshit I have to deal with a picture with the staff and Santa! And count toys for pToysforTotsp.  But I also get free lunch.  See?  You win some, you lose some.

You got to take what you get.

In other news, I'm grumpy, terribly, terribly bitchy about work, and not in the mood to fuck around with this shit.

BUT.  My band has a really good gig on Friday.  So that's fun!  And the baby will be performing, the same night, natch, at a different location, and I will be missing that.  Beast.  And the big kid is home for the holiday, and that's good.  And I still have more Poinsettia to drink.