aruan: (30 Rock - bored now)
[personal profile] aruan
The tl;dr of my three-week radio silence after the fannish renaissance that was VividCon was a whole lot of real life stuff crashing down on my shoulders, and my response to stress is keeping as busy as possible so I can't think about anything else and just collapsing into bed at the end of the day.

So let's talk about the fun bits of the past week!

I have it on the good authority of a guest star that Tom Mison, who plays Ichabod Crane on my favorite new guilty pleasure, Sleepy Hollow, is a very funny man who finds humor even when it wasn't in the script. They had me at doughnut tax outrage.

Speaking of new fall TV, also in the keeper column:

  • Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Shockingly decent, even with my low Andy Samberg tolerance.

  • The Blacklist: rageprufrock described this show as Alan Shore going crazy and embarking on a life of crime after Denny Crane died, and yeah, it's that and more.

    Not so much:

  • Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.: Meh. The main guy is a bit of a charm vacuum, and does anyone else get the impression that they aren't the good guys? This is not really the time to sell us on shadow government agencies.

  • The Big Bang Theory: Just as the first episode backed off mocking Sheldon, the second of the two-part premiere was basically an exercise in mocking ugly stereotypes about women, but it was supposed to be OK because Howard had just overdosed on estrogen. I think it's time to make a clean break with this show.

  • Masterchef Junior: I came to watch Gordon Ramsay yell at children, and if that's not where we're headed, I'll be laying off the reality cooking until Top Chef comes back.

    We had a seasonal beer tasting at work on Wednesday (journalism doesn't suck ALL the time) where many good brews were had, but the surprise of the event was finding a pumpkin-flavored beer I actually like: the hoppy and not at all sweet Saranac Pumpkin Ale, a 125-year-old brand brewed in upstate New York.

    It looks like I've got a lead on a pair of Bastille tickets for Monday's show at the Bowery Ballroom, at face value too, which would be an amazing birthday gift to myself. The milestone birthday was last year, but we were too busy trying to get settled in New York to do much more than eat take-away Chinese food just before midnight and pretend the fortune cookies held some particularly profound significance. This year, to say that we don't have anything to celebrate is an understatement, but damn it there won't at least be good music.
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