Monthly Archives: September 2012

Breaking Bad(ass)

Life is so delicate in those first days and weeks of watching Breaking Bad on Netflix. You have to be careful at all times, diligent at every turn, to avoid encountering spoilers IRL. This means: slamming the laptop shut when Brian Cranston’s picture slides up in your Facebook feed; covering your eyes and singing loud, tone-deaf melodies of your own creation whenever clips of the current season are played on the Emmys; and, of course, getting into a cold shower whenever the urge to look at Aaron Paul’s Wikipedia page arises in your chest. (Of course, you simply want to know if he has a girlfriend, where he grew up, when his birthday is so you can send him a card–but you must accept the fact that while you are still living in Season 3, the rest of the world is far, far ahead of you, and Wikipedia has no doubt been infiltrated by these future-dwellers.) The internet is now my enemy.

This image brought to you by the most perilous of Google searches.

And for some reason, we’re having a hard time getting through this show quickly. Don’t get me wrong–we freaking love it, like the rest of the human race–but it’s not like Mad Men, the first five seasons of which we were able to watch, with only a modicum of shame, in less than a month.

But you can’t really do the binge-watching thing with Breaking Bad, or at least I can’t. It’s way too grim. The suspense is so masterful that I feel very near the brink of an anxiety attack when Vince Gilligan’s name come s up at the end–I have to pad the time between episodes with meditation, herbal tea, spontaneous weeping. My dear lovie was actually unable to sleep at night for awhile when we were watching the show before bedtime, so we had to shift our schedule around so that BB consumption only occurs before 4:00 p.m.

Which is hard, now that we’re both gainfully employed–the whole process of moving through the series has slowed down so considerably that I wonder if I’ll ever reach that golden Wikipedia page. Will I ever know the true Aaron Paul [as depicted by fans and internet users]? Or will he forever be shrouded in mystery, our destinies never touching because I am terrified of the spoilers that might lie in wait at every dark turn of The Google?

Yeah, this one I just had saved on my desktop.

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A Sunday

1. The dog and I just played a vigorous game of reverse-fetch, in which she dropped her orange rubber ball off the third-floor deck, watched it bounce neatly off the wood slats of the second-floor deck and onto the roof of my car, and then skittered down the stairs to press her face against the staircase window just in time to watch me run through traffic and fetch the still-rolling ball from a neighbor’s yard. According to Facebook, everyone else in the world is watching football like normal human beings.

2. I recently found my way out of a Phillip Roth Time Vortex (six weeks of slogging through The Human Stain, ten pages at a time, refusing to a) abandon the book or b) stop complaining about the book) and to cleanse my reading palate I very quickly and methodically read Julian Barnes’ The Sense of an Ending this afternoon, and now I feel like my literary karma has been righted once again. What a book!

3. I liked this quote best from Bill Clinton’s long, sweaty, and passionate DNC speech last week, especially after I found out it was off-script:

Why does cooperation work better than constant conflict? Because nobody’s right all the time, and a broken clock is right twice a day. And every one of us — every one of us and every one of them, we’re compelled to spend our fleeting lives between those two extremes, knowing we’re never going to be right all the time and hoping we’re right more than twice a day.