The daily adventures and travails of one neurotic, klutzy, hungry, cynical college girl. Tune in for prizes! (offer void where prohibited. See office for details. Not responsible for lost articles.)
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Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Last weekend was my hermit-ous love affair with the second and final season of Popular. I laughed, I cried, I lost sleep... It was a roller coaster of fun, faith, and fear.
For those of you who don't know Popular- you're missing out. It's crazy in every respect, but in the end, it became like that friend of yours who gets drunk every other night, calls you up screaming "I got your ho!" at 4 in the morning, brings you gift bags from trendy parties (cause she already stole 3 more for herself), and eats all your homemade cupcakes before you can say they're for your office potluck. She drives you insane, but you love her fiercely, and god help the soul who mades a snide remarks about her.
I patted Season 1 on the head, like a friendly, rambuctious puppy. It was adorable, no doubt about it. But Season 2 is the one that captured my already melthing heart.
SPOILERS AHEAD
Harrison's leukemia arc made my crush on Christopher Gorham cement into a enveloping adoration. It was sudden and slightly unresearched, but the episode where they mimic "It's a Wonderful Life" was everything I love about Popular. Inconceivable, outrageous, heart wrenching, and delightful. His following story on his love for Sam was equally compelling. Though it also came out of the blue, I strapped myself in and refused to get out of the ride. Even with the confusing finale (I hate the WB), my face is still moist with the tears from the rise and fall of Harrison's pursuit of his best friend and first real love.
I could say so much more about this show- Nicole's transformation of depth, the oddly growing strength of Josh and Lily's compatibility (I still want that song, people), Brooke's inevitable fall from grace, etc. I would still argue the show was in the sloppy stages, but they were under alot of pressure and maintained their impressive original quality. I love shows that tap into the dark, strange, secret nooks of the psyche. Popular was Ryan Murphy's brainchild, and I found it utterly lovable. I could bemoan that it's gone prematurely, but Francis suggested I write fan fiction. I hate fan fiction. But in this case, I've already drummed up enough ides for the first 4 episodes. You may witness this if my stages of grief last long enough for me to have to purge my pain onto paper.
I'm stiffling sobs.
2:23 PM
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