Further adventures
I'm getting middle-agedly sick (gastritis, which I've never had before because I was a carefree youth who could live however I wanted without physical repercussions) and not enjoying it. This after most of the past year being all about insomnia (which I'd never had before because blah blah blah).
Getting old: kind of a bullshit situation really.
Oh hilarity, I'm only 39. It's all downhill from here.
Anyway, all this nausea and headache and general malaise has coincided with a fannish excursion into Hannibal fandom and the attendant Big Feels Of The New Obsesh. I'm backing away from hockey fandom because My (2nd) Fave Is Problematic (to put it offensively mildly - I'm dealing with this by avoidance and emotional distancing because I am fortunate to have that luxury) and it's tainting everything. Even Kessel to Pittsburgh. Even laughing at the Leafs. My rl sickness and tiredness also contributes to reluctance, because I don't know if I'll be able to watch games anyway, so why bother.
That said, I'm going to go see a real live hockey game for the first time. I'm going with a coworker, and we're going to see what I'm sure will be an illustrious and unforgettable regular season matchup between TPS (last year's reg season rank 13/14) and SaiPa (last year: 8/14).
Lower bowl tix are like 30euro and we only got those because they aren't even selling the upper bowl. Because the team is terrible. I'm told there was a time in the past when they were like the Oilers to Jokerit's Islanders, but now Jokerit are rockin' the KHL and TPS are... yeah.
But Hannibal! Guess there was never any doubt that baroque murder opera was going to appeal to me, I was just mostly distracted by hockey when it was actually on the air. The Silence of the Lambs was a reasonably big deal for me as a teen (my dad took me and a friend of mine to see it in the theatre when it was released - in retrospect I can't really explain this memory but I'm pretty sure it happened. I was fifteen-ish. I think dad took me because I'd just become Old Enough and there was no way mom would ever go with him to see a horror film. Around the same time he took me to see The Highwaymen in concert, also because mom wouldn't go see country music. My dad was kind of... I don't wanna say distant, but opaque to me? I guess. I don't have a lot of really solid memories of him. You'd think I remember more, considering I was 19 when he died.)
What was I talking about... daddy issues, murder opera... So brief obsesh with Silence of the Lambs as a wee ickle bairn, then a much more full-bodied fannish frenzy when they made the Red Dragon, because I was in love with Ralph Fiennes (my wife can tell you stories about that) - for that one, I was kinda yawn Will Graham bc Fiennes was the most interesting thing moving around there and Ed Norton was like a dry low murmur. I don't remember feeling much of an erotic thrill between Hannibal and Will, let's just say, although I did reflect a little bit over how Will was like a first try (and bloody failure) at what Hannibal then managed with Clarice.
I bought Hannibal the book in hardback and then kind of giggled through it because what a piss-take, right. And the movie... I really only recall the bit where they eat Ray Liotta's brain.
Anyway, I'm rewatching the show, which works well. I think it feels better on the second go because the decidedly largo pacing of stuff doesn't bother me when I'm not watching to see what happens next. "Can we watch it sped up?" my wife asked yesterday, because she has zero patience for largo.
Let's be real, I'd just watch a closeup of Hugh Dancy's fuzzy kitten face twitching and blinking for 41 minutes. Maybe interspersed with the occasional cut to Mads Mikkelsen's cool shark stare.
I'm probably going to run out of good fic soon, and then there will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth and I'll have to go back to watching hockey. Demand always exceeds supply.
Getting old: kind of a bullshit situation really.
Oh hilarity, I'm only 39. It's all downhill from here.
Anyway, all this nausea and headache and general malaise has coincided with a fannish excursion into Hannibal fandom and the attendant Big Feels Of The New Obsesh. I'm backing away from hockey fandom because My (2nd) Fave Is Problematic (to put it offensively mildly - I'm dealing with this by avoidance and emotional distancing because I am fortunate to have that luxury) and it's tainting everything. Even Kessel to Pittsburgh. Even laughing at the Leafs. My rl sickness and tiredness also contributes to reluctance, because I don't know if I'll be able to watch games anyway, so why bother.
That said, I'm going to go see a real live hockey game for the first time. I'm going with a coworker, and we're going to see what I'm sure will be an illustrious and unforgettable regular season matchup between TPS (last year's reg season rank 13/14) and SaiPa (last year: 8/14).
Lower bowl tix are like 30euro and we only got those because they aren't even selling the upper bowl. Because the team is terrible. I'm told there was a time in the past when they were like the Oilers to Jokerit's Islanders, but now Jokerit are rockin' the KHL and TPS are... yeah.
But Hannibal! Guess there was never any doubt that baroque murder opera was going to appeal to me, I was just mostly distracted by hockey when it was actually on the air. The Silence of the Lambs was a reasonably big deal for me as a teen (my dad took me and a friend of mine to see it in the theatre when it was released - in retrospect I can't really explain this memory but I'm pretty sure it happened. I was fifteen-ish. I think dad took me because I'd just become Old Enough and there was no way mom would ever go with him to see a horror film. Around the same time he took me to see The Highwaymen in concert, also because mom wouldn't go see country music. My dad was kind of... I don't wanna say distant, but opaque to me? I guess. I don't have a lot of really solid memories of him. You'd think I remember more, considering I was 19 when he died.)
What was I talking about... daddy issues, murder opera... So brief obsesh with Silence of the Lambs as a wee ickle bairn, then a much more full-bodied fannish frenzy when they made the Red Dragon, because I was in love with Ralph Fiennes (my wife can tell you stories about that) - for that one, I was kinda yawn Will Graham bc Fiennes was the most interesting thing moving around there and Ed Norton was like a dry low murmur. I don't remember feeling much of an erotic thrill between Hannibal and Will, let's just say, although I did reflect a little bit over how Will was like a first try (and bloody failure) at what Hannibal then managed with Clarice.
I bought Hannibal the book in hardback and then kind of giggled through it because what a piss-take, right. And the movie... I really only recall the bit where they eat Ray Liotta's brain.
Anyway, I'm rewatching the show, which works well. I think it feels better on the second go because the decidedly largo pacing of stuff doesn't bother me when I'm not watching to see what happens next. "Can we watch it sped up?" my wife asked yesterday, because she has zero patience for largo.
Let's be real, I'd just watch a closeup of Hugh Dancy's fuzzy kitten face twitching and blinking for 41 minutes. Maybe interspersed with the occasional cut to Mads Mikkelsen's cool shark stare.
I'm probably going to run out of good fic soon, and then there will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth and I'll have to go back to watching hockey. Demand always exceeds supply.