Hooked to the Screen

When my favorite shows come back in the fall, it’s like when an old friend comes back to town and you realized how much you really missed them.  Of course, It also makes me yearn for the shows/friends I can’t get back yet.  Yes, I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m referring to LOST.  As awesome as it is that Bones and Gossip Girl came back last week and Grey’s Anatomy, Heroes, and Pushing Daisies are soon to follow, I miss my favorite, my “bestie”.  TV premieres bring forth some bitter emotions for me. 

Atleast what I’ve seen so far has been promising.  Bones remains my #1 guilty pleasure show.  It’s like eating a second bowl of ice cream; it’s going to do nothing good for you, but you simply can’t resist.  The September 3 episode was no different.  Gossip Girl is my #2 guilty pleasure show.  It’s just so catty and glamorous at the same time.  There’s also nothing wrong with enjoying the eye candy.  I’m looking forward to the Grey’s Anatomy premiere mostly because the show really turned itself around towards the end of last season.  I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that the “Gizzie” nonsense is over. 

And in spite of all this TV goodness coming my way, all I really look foward to is the return of the best mind-tripping show on television.  Last season was stellar; I can only hope that the premiere in January or February or whatever month this torture ends is equally awesome.

Some of my most memorable and most nerdy memories have been made in Barnes and Noble.  Over the past 5 summers I have spent three nights locked in the bookstore with hundreds of other nerds.  There’s probably a cooler way to buy the newest Harry Potter book, but there’s no alternative if you’re like me and need to read it before everyone else. 

I attended the first Midnight Magic Party in 2003 for the release of the 5th book in the series.  I didn’t know what to expect, but as the night progressed I participated in a trivia game, a book reading, and really, really geeky discussions.  The trivia game was simple until an obnoxious girl in an orange monkey shirt stepped up the podium.  She began asking ridiculous and unfair questions.  Apparently, I’m not a true fan unless I can quote, word-for-word I might add, what Hermione said about Ron on page 348 of Goblet of Fire.  This may not seem like a big deal, but I can still see that girl’s stupid matching orange hat and evil smile.  I blame her for throwing me off my game and having it take me all day to get through the book, a pathetic statistic compared to the next two all-night readings.

After this event I learned to fully embrace my geekiness and I arrived in costume for the 6th book release.  When we got there we learned we had to be dressed up as a character.  I, in my gryffindor tie and crisp white button down shirt, became Lavender Brown, who I would read later that night snogs Ron for about 200 pages.  My very non-asian friend was told by a B&N employee she should be the very asian Cho Chang.  My other friend Laura dubbed herself “Mrs. Weasley” yet spent the whole night in gigantic black plastic glasses frames.   We camped out appropriately in the Sci-Fi section.  The monkey shirt girl was not there, and the night was perfect.  I found it much easier to read without her smug face and finished the book in a mere 6 hours.  This remains my best time yet.  As I remember this night, I flex my arms in a victorial sort of way.

Last summer, the 7th and final book was released.  I once again attended the party, this time in a custom-made shirt advertising for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.  Now, everything seems bittersweet, down from Laura getting her face painted with the Dark Mark (aww, my little death eater!) to occupying the business section and discussing death predictions with total strangers.  I practically devoured the book when I got home and finished in 7 hours.  At the time, nothing felt final.  Now I’m realizing there’s no party to look forward to next year.  Going the the midnight movie premieres are fun as well, but they lack the thrill and excitement that comes when those 100 pound books are placed in my overly eager hands.  For me, other obsessions with inevitably come with time, but there’s nothing like attending your first geek parties. 

Today is Johnny Depp’s birthday.  And why should you care?  Because the international sex symbol turns 45 today.  Now, Johnny looks good, even if he is the same age as my parents.  It really takes a number for me to take a step back and realize that this guy is only 5 years away from his 50th birthday.  My question today is: how old is too old, or are some people just sexy forever?

I just asked my friend and fellow blogger Denise if she will find Johnny attractive in 5 years.  I could see she was thinking about beating me with the plastic candy cane she was holding (don’t ask), but thankfully instead she replied with an indignant “of course”.  She went on to tell me that he will be gorgeous until he dies, because he’s gorgeous.  Okay then.

It’s not just Johnny who may be blessed with eternal sexiness.  George Clooney is 47 now, Hugh Grant is 48, and Denzel Washington is about to turn 54.  Harrison Ford has already pulled in over 253 million at the box office for starring again as Indiana Jones, and he’s pushing 66! 

I’m not saying that all men age gracefully and I most certainly don’t understand some women’s preferences.  Anyone who says Sean Connery is still attractive makes no sense to me and never will.  Many stars in both TV and film are over 40 and still making women swoon.  It’s not just some ripped, tan 20 year old that is bankable at the box office. 

Last weekend, I re-discovered the wonder of video games.  Even with all that new technology out there, what made me hooked to the screen was Nintendo 64.  I’d been mourning the loss of my N-64 for years now(it was killed in an unfortunate incident involving a heavy foot and a snapped cable), but after a quick Dunkin’ run in a van filled with way too many people, a mass decision was made to get ahold of one of those ’90s masterpieces.  With the machine and four funny-looking controllers in tow, we were ready for some nostalgia.

For a while, I happily observed seventeen year old boys enjoying technology that seems almost ancient in comparison with the graphics-filled XBox or WII.  I thought about how truly amusing it is to see that even with all this new stuff, what entertained us this weekend is something from our childhoods.  To me, it’s the simplicity.  You move with the joystick.  You press A or B.  After my N-64 died, I never moved on to bigger and better things.  I’m clearly not a “gamer”, having never owned anything other than the N-64 or my Dad’s ancient original Nintendo.  The only person I can beat is my little sister.  And yet I indulged in this blast-from-the-past for hours on a Saturday night. 

I’m not a competitive person, but I got so fired up during a game of Mario Party I kicked a friend in a place that is both inappopriate and apparently, really painful.  After the red faded from my vision I apologized over 100 times, but I don’t know if I was actually sorry.  This friend sabatoged my character Yoshi and I’s chance at being the “Super-Star” of the game.  Mario Party is just about the only game I can I actually play with an ounce of success, and going from 1st place to 4th place is enough to release a competitiveness in me that 10 years of sports have never been able to do. 

The re-discovery of N-64 has come with the promises of many tournaments in the future.  It looks like every once and a while, the new games will be what’s forgotten.

As my regular Thursday night LOST crew knows, I’m one of those people that just can’t watch TV quietly.  I’m not trying to be annoying; as far as I’m concerned I’m adding to the experience.  I feel it is my duty to inform my living room that “OMG THAT’S THE GUY WHO PICKED UP BEN’S PARENTS ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD!!!”  How am I supposed to know that they actually remember that?  And besides, what if they didn’t remember?  I have now saved my somewhat exasperated friends seconds of confusion until a flashback reminds everyone exactly that.  And sure, every once and a while I blab out my predictions over a character’s important monologue.  That’s why I have DVR; to go back, slightly embarassed, and listen to what Locke said about Jacob’s cabin.  I’m what you’d call an interactive viewer.  I’d rather receive a long “SHHHHHHH” from my mother than sit there like a rock taking up space on my very full sofa.  Call me obnoxious, informative, or insane, that’s the way I watch TV.