I came in the door tonight with a freshly arrived shipping box under my arm from which I triumphantly pulled my new Buffy the Vampire Slayer Board Game.
"Would anybody like to play a game with me tonight?" I ask hopefully.
"Sure," my husband says. Then he squints at the box cradled in my arms. "Wait... Is that a Buffy trivia game?"
"Nope."
"Then, yes, I'll play with you."
Meanwhile my ten-year-old son is flipping the box over.
On my way home from work I popped into the comic book store. I headed over to the Dark Horse rack to see if there was anything new in any of my favorites. (Of course I knew there wasn't; I'm on three different mailing lists that would have alerted me if a new Umbrella Academy was on the way, but a girl can dream.)
Okay, bad joke of the day...
While warming up during ballet class last night, my instructor was discussing a rather contemporary piece of choreography with another adult student. My instructor looked around at the class compliment that evening which had an uncharacteristically large amount of twelve-year olds. Looking pointedly at the younger members of the class my instructor says to my friend, “Sorry, but I don’t think we can do the weird stuff tonight.”
Totally moral outrage! Infamy, heresy, and blasphemy! The world has gone insane and I'm surrounded by heathens. How and when did this happen?
I was having a perfectly normal sci-fi conversation with a friend – who shall remain nameless – when this friend, whom I generally consider to be intelligent and well-informed, had the gaul to say that Firefly creator Joss Whedon "pioneered the whole cowboys in outer space thing."
Dude. This is someone I know. How is that possible?
I don’t really do the con scene. As much as I’d like to, I haven’t figured out a way to fit it into my schedule or pocketbook. I do watch a friend prep for DragonCon every year and drool over her costume proceedings. (I don’t think she’s posted any pictures of her costumes – dude, get on it – but you’ll have to trust me that her Rockford Peach costume is one of my favorites of all time.)
I just discovered something about myself that I didn’t know. I like comic books. Who knew? It took me thirty-one years to get around to cracking one open and giving it a whirl.
I was expounding on this new revelation to a friend over lunch today. She leaned across the table. “You just keep getting geekier, don’t you?”
Takes one to know one, love. And she’s a Class 1 Neek, so she’d really know.
You guys following Dollhouse? Didn’t the last few episodes totally kick ass? Well, Fox is apparently deciding as we speak whether to make a season 2. I know begging Fox for anything rather feels like betraying the Powers That Be and signing your soul over in your own blood to some evil corporation that’s trying to bring forth the apocalypse, but hey, life is about compromise.
Been missing in action for a bit. It’s not that I don’t love you; it’s just that I don’t have time for you.
I ate the last bit of Easter candy today – a Cadbury creme egg, if you’re interested in specifics.
It’s a funny thing about last bits. You savor them just a little bit more. That Cadbury egg was no better than the one before, but you look in the fridge and sigh, with both sadness and relief in this particular case, and realize that this is the last bit of chocolate in the house. Like the last sip of tea in the mug or those last sweet minutes in bed before you haul yourself up and start another day. You cling to them just a little bit longer.
A friend reminded me via email today that Dollhouse begins airing on Friday. Holy crap, I almost spaced that entirely.
If you were unaware – and if you’re liable to care about this at all, then that’s extremely unlikely – Dollhouse is the new Joss Whedon show. Joss Whedon is the only TV show director/producer I can think of off the top of my head that has groupies... and I’m one of them.
