Capt. Lee Adama (left) - my future husband. Once I get rid of that bitch Pvt. Starbuck (right).
Well, it's finally happened. I have lost the precious few remaining shards of credibility I had left and become the ultimate hypocrite in one foul swoop. No, I haven't converted to Celineaism, that brain-washing religion of worshiping at the altar of crap music (which would necessitate a self-inflicted bullet wound to the temple rather than a mere confession via the world of Blogging). Not quite so shocking, but almost as shameful...So - after a whole year of inflicting my favourite things on Mikey (from endless Girls Aloud-athons and countless horror movies to a rather hilarious visit to a local theme park and some ill-advised roller coaster riding, not to mention a year-end climax of seasons 1, 2 and 3 of 'Footballer's Wives') I thought it only fair to show some willing and endure (sorry, 'experience') some of his dearest obsessions. After all, marriage isn't just about love and trust and fights over who sleeps in the wet patch...
Of all possible methods of torture (and trust me, the boy has many - listening to a whole 'Dixie Chicks' album, anyone?) I finally settled on giving one of his several geek DVD's a go. Now, I'd rather give Jo Brand a bed-bath than sit through even ten minutes of his 'Star Trek' collection so I opted instead to give 'Battlestar Gallactica' a go. I bought him three series's worth for Christmas (the is the new one, not the old one) and figured I could play the dutiful husband and at least sit through two episodes before playing the 'I tried my hardest but failed anyway' card. And there was also a hot guy on the cover in a tight uniform so I thought that might go some way to nulling the pain....You know what's coming next, don't you?
Sweet baby Jesus and the orphans, I am hooked. I am a Sci-Fi geek. I cannot hide the shameful truth any longer. This is more than just 'liking'. This is full-on back-to-back episodes every night of the week, canceling social plans to settle in for the next installment and even - God, no! - spending hours discussing the 'philosophy of Battlestar' over cafe breakfasts. We still have an entire season to go and already I am feeling the cold stab of dread at the prospect of running out of episodes...
OK, seriously. Someone needs to come to Canada and rescue me. I have become this body-snatched version of my former self who actually has serious conversations about a race of human-imitating robots called 'Cylons' and whether or not it's feasible that they have a religious belief-system.
And you know what's even worse?
I kinda like it...
3 comments:
Whatever! You have always had an addictive personality. We're just more used to it being men and booze, not crap TV shows! Scrap that - I seeem to recall a sad obssession with Pop Idol that ended upo with you being dressed as Will Young for the finale!
xoxo
Thank God you have moved then! I live in a house full of boys and a visiting nerd isnt my idea of fun. I have however replaced certain words in my head with alternative ones such as Dr Who (Clinique), Star Trek (Dior) and New Scientist (Boots.com). Get the picture? It works for me. It enables me to smile with a genuine expression and nod like I really mean it. So try it and see if it works for you! Sci-Fi = make-up x x x Joanne
Can you please answer your emails?
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