I've recently realized that some of what is problematic over here lately is that I feel this pressure to write something meaningful about medical school or life, and I feel a pressure to police myself from whining like a little b, because that's just annoying. Or when I finally do get around to posting, I'm all fired up by some stupid political business, and I really suck at talking about politics in any kind of meaningful manner.
Maybe I ought to just be silly for a while, it occurs to me. Honestly, I'm more excited that the new television season is starting than I am about keeping track of political spinning and spitting. I'd rather talk about a song than about a day in medical school. And a pleasant movie is enough to make a horribly tedious flight pass on by.
I can't comment on Gossip Girl or 90210- despite some of my classmates' best efforts, I can't bring myself to watch anything like that regularly. But on the other hand, I gleefully watched Fringe when I returned to the West Coast, and I have absolutely no excuse for why I did that. It could win an award for most derivative show ever- it moshes together the basic plotlines of Season 1 of Alias, throws in the music and eccentric, cuckoo dudes from Lost, and throws in a helping of the X-files just in case that will help. The lead actress looks like she might be an elder sibling of a Gossip Girl, the lead actor was last seen smarming it up on Dawson's Creek. And yet, you know, I will probably continue to watch. Damn you, JJ Abrams.
On the flight to EBF, surprisingly, the film The Visitor was being shown. It is the definition of a small film, but my, is it lovely. It's made more lovely, of course, by the fact that Richard Jenkins was one of the best aspects of Six Feet Under, and he is given this whole film to just kind of inhabit and be, and change without seeming like one of those cheesy movies about change. I was surprised at how well it worked, especially considering I was watching it while babies were screaming and flight attendants were trying to shill out $3 packets of shortbread cookies.
Here's a guilty pleasure type of secret secret. Generally, I don't like watching anything on CBS. I really don't think that channel generally has anything I find vaguely compelling. Except when you throw the NPH into the mix, in which case all bets are off. So, it's sort of a guilty pleasure that I have been watching How I Met Your Mother for the past year, and am looking forward to the new season starting. The premise of the show is meh and it's not particularly earth-shatteringly innovative. But it is usually quite funny.
There's something about the show that resonates with the way that I communicate with a lot of friends. I suppose it's annoying, throwing in a billion pop culture references in conversation, but a lot of times it's completely unintentional. It's just become part of normal conversation. It's become commonplace to object to an argument by yelling "Erroneous! Erroneous on both counts!" There is nothing out of the ordinary about muttering "Blerg" defeatedly. Oh, and then there are the countless Princess Bride references.
I really wasn't much of a How I Met Your Mother fan, but then I saw an episode in which Jason Segel references Bad Idea Jeans. What can I say? I'm a sucker for these kinds of shout-outs.
Okay, I'm trying to make foccacia. I think it is going to turn out disastrous, but if I don't tend to it now, it may pass disastrous and turn into a fiasco of massive proportions.