I just realized a way I can blog at work that reduces my chance of being caught. Draft the post first in Word, on company letterhead even and then cut and paste the finished post into Blogger. The bonus feature? Spelling and grammar check as I go along. (Three green and one red squiggly line thus far)
So, yes, here I am. I felt that my “return-to-posting” post would have to be monumentous. Is that really not a word? What word am I thinking of? Well, expansive and awe-inspiring, then. Sadly, I fear this is not to be, but better a crack-addled and Veronica Mars filled nugget than nothing at all, right?
Because Veronica Mars has truly and officially taken over my life. I used to think of myself as a well-rounded-Renaissance-type consumer of pop culture and media. Some movies, lots of TV, select magazines, a fair amount of sports and even news when I’m forced. I could wax poetic on the Yankees current state (dismal, given the state of their bullpen and lack of clutch hitting by big name players. Looking at you, A-rod). I devoured at least one New York Magazine, including crossword and one Entertainment Weekly, well, weekly. I could keep pace with some bigger movie buffs than myself by selectively quoting remembered passages from A. O. Scott’s reviews. I would pretend to sound worldly by repeating things I’d heard on NPR before falling into a narcoleptic coma. But that was long ago.
My entire world of the last few weeks has revolved feverishly and exclusively around the planet Mars. At this moment, the Veronica Mars radio station is playing faintly from my computer speakers and I had to turn it up a touch because “Momentary Thing” is playing. You know, the song from episode 1.18 Weapons of Class Destruction when Veronica and Logan share their first kiss on the terrace of the Camelot. Let’s all pause for a silent squee…
(And while I’m at it, adding squee to my MS Word dictionary. Momentous! That’s the word I was looking for.)
So, getting back to VM. I am of course a LoVe shipper, because VD is just unbearable. I spend a ton of time over at TWoP, debating whether RT and TPTB were crazy to even cast TD in the first place or if he’s holding some great plot twist in all that robot Donut acting. The former, IMHO. I actually feel physically ill if I go too long without hearing the VM soundtrack; I listen to nothing else on my iPod. I haven’t gone to bed before 1:00am since buying S1 on DVD and watching every episode in order from the beginning. But what has really marked my decent into obsession, the true sign of my mental collapse is that I am reading fanfic. The purple-backgrounded, icon-populated world of LiveJournal has sucked me in, never to be seen again. My evenings (and, OK, sometimes a small part of my days) are filled with long and tender tales of Logan and Veronica in an alternate ending to episode 2.03 Cheatty, Cheatty, Bang, Bang. Logan and Veronica in an imagined tangent taken from events in episode 1.15 Ruskie Business. Logan, Veronica and Duncan 10 years into the future and living in Hong Kong. And in case you couldn’t have guessed, they mostly involve Logan and Veronica having sex. Oh, sure, you got your funny “Veronica/Wallace adventure” fics, your sweet “Lilly looks over everyone from the grave” fics and for the truly disturbed, even some Sheriff Lamb fic. But the overwhelming majority is slightly smutty, slightly schmoopy dreams of Logan and Veronica, snarking and fucking for eternity. And I am a junkie for it. All of it. Sometimes I lose of track of what’s really happened on the show and what’s part of Tiana’s Holding the Curve, parts 1-11.
Wow, I can't believe I admitted all of that. Guess it feels good to come back to blogging. I know it's a pie-crust promise, but I swear, I'm back on the wagon and now that the floodgates are open I think you'll have a hard time holding me back. (I like my metaphors like my nuts: dry-roasted).