In hindsight, reading myself to sleep with a fantasy horror book when the birds in the attic started kicking up a fuss at 3.30 am was probably a bad idea. As it happened, though, I ended up having nightmares in which a tumblr blog (oh, the spelling, it kills me) went all Ring and began driving people crazy. Then I had one of those wonderful happy dreams where all I can remember is walking away from a group of people saying 'I love these fantasies,' but which was nonetheless still the best dream I've had for ages.
The problem is that my nightmare may not be as far fetched as it undoubtedly sounds. Let me explain. There is nothing to do in Hartford. Nothing. Much as I've enjoyed this year, Hartford is and will no doubt remain, the ghost town of America. My weekend activities are limited to going to the mall, going to the park, or going to West Hartford, which is pretty much like going to the mall except outside and prettier. So, as I've alluded to before, since coming here, I have watched more TV than I ever have before in my life, save for that stint when I was 11 and off school sick for a while. I am a dedicated follower of Criminal Minds. I have seen every episode of Downton Abbey. I watched the whole of the 2009 production of Alice. I'm up-to-date with my Family Guys. I've just started Pushing Daisies. And I am slowly being transformed into a so-called 'Gleek.'
Glee is probably taking over my life. It's an odd show. I imagine that had I started watching it when it first came out in the UK I would still be a fan, but one who catches up in her spare time rather than a dedicated, on the sofa at the same time every week type of fan. It's generally decent TV, at least as far as I'm concerned. It's set in hyper-reality, it is full of pretty primary colours, it has wonderfully snarky comments, and they randomly break into song at least twice an episode. All of these things are good. However, being in Hartford with nothing to do, all these things suddenly transformed into The Best Things Ever, and I transformed into a scarily dedicated, Tuesdays-at-8 girl. It's sad, yes, but generally I've been able to cope. The problem is that the show has recently taken a break with all sorts of unresolved plot lines, and well- I have an obsessive personality. More so when writing essays, and desperately so when bored solid. Which leads me to tumblr.
Tumblr is a terrifying place. It reminds me vividly of the days when, as a 15/16 year old girl who liked Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and shinies, I joined online groups in which 'squee' and 'OMG' constituted appropriate conversation starters and making fan posters was a legitimate use of one's spare time. Tumblr, much like those groups, is also desperately shiny and, more importantly, full of people who are also struggling with Glee withdrawal symptoms. Now I think I need an intervention before it's too late, because I'm beginning to scare myself, and I'm getting online jokes which no one should ever be able to understand. I actually know what 'Klaine' means, and if that isn't a cry for help then what is? Besides, there is never any excuse for following fictional characters' Twitter feeds.
So the moral of the story is that I need to get a life, and fast. A deeper moral is that if you find yourself in a place like Hartford, for god's sakes get a car, or join a club, or something. If I had joined an aerobics class instead of discovering Glee, well, things would be very different, wouldn't they?
Normal posting returns next week.
JJ
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