I don't wanna wait for our lives to be over

I know, it has been too long since my last post, but it would be arrogant of me to apologize, as if my reticence withheld a gift from you. I am still sorry, and it is not my fault. I’ve been really busy. A ‘friend’ gave me a ‘gift’ and ruined my life.

Those of you who follow the blog (or follow my movements through a telescope) will know that I am a graduate student in philosophy. In other words, I have a lot of spare time. Or I did, until I took up permanent residence in Capeside, along the banks of Dawson’s Creek. It’s a beautiful place.

I don’t have a television in my house. Some people can handle the lure of a television; I can’t. Some people turn on the TV, flip around a little bit, and say, “There’s nothing on.” There is always something on. Perhaps there’s nothing good on. It may be the case that there’s nothing worth watching on. But there’s always something on. I will watch whatever is on. I will watch Cityline with Marilyn Denis. I will watch the Maury Povich show. I will watch that ridiculous man with the long ponytail sell his ridiculous exercise machine – the Gazelle – even though I know in my heart that I am not going to see what I am hoping for, because even if one of the spokesmodels suffered a horrific groin tear, they would edit out the screaming and writhing in post-production. I don’t know why, but if there is a TV, you can count on me watching it.

But still there is something special about Dawson’s Creek. I can’t explain it, and I know it is an indefensible and unhealthy addiction, but I just can’t get enough, and ever since I came into possession of Season Two on DVD, I am not constrained by the limitations of the television schedule. I can take a little trip to Capeside whenever I want. I turn it on, and I am taken to that special place where gorgeous white kids with huge vocabularies work through seemingly insurmountable problems (a surprising amount like life in my apartment). I know it is stupid. I know the girl playign Andie McPhee was 28 years old when they filmed season two; she was supposed to be 16. I know that there is really no depth of feeling or emotion behind these characters. I know that she never loved me, and she is getting married to Tom Cruise (this never would have happened if she had not chosen Pacey. Dawson would never have let this happen). I know all of this. I just can’t stop watching.