I am behind.
It’s just something that I have learned to live with. There are lots of shows and movies I haven’t seen and there are lots of books I haven’t read. Currently, I’m reading some Chaucer and also a book published 36 years ago. (V.C. Andrews. Hush.) I am watching Twin Peaks, which aired between 1990 and 1991.
Spoilers are everywhere.
The other day, I pulled up the Twin Peaks wikipedia and in the first paragraph it told me who the murderer was. I cringed.
An article about the strangest things to happen in V.C. Andrews books actually summed up the complete plot of the series I’m reading.
I logged out of my Yahoo e-mail, one of the top stories on the front page was about a character leaving a show that I am only one season behind on.
For the most part, I don’t mind spoilers. I don’t go out of my way to avoid them unless I really, really care. (That means, the few times I shriek when someone is talking about something and stick my fingers in my ears like spoiled four year old, I really, really care.) Sometimes, I even seek spoilers out, though usually just little cheats like looking at how many episodes an actor features in or reading the description of a series book that’s a couple ahead of where I’m at. I don’t need to know the specifics, I just need to ease some of the anxiety.
Still, sometimes it surprises me and it makes my life hell. Knowing that this character is leaving the show is absolutely killing me. I keep almost slipping it to Hubby. Or, like the time Mom told me how How I Met Your Mother ended and I had to watch the last three seasons with Hubby knowing what was coming and he was completely furious that I would let him sit through it. Never mind that he let me sit through Lost.
Just now I read an article about a classic I mean to read someday. Classics are weird, right, because you have an idea going in what they are about. But now I feel like I’ve just read the whole thing.
I wish I had a time-turner.