It may seem glaringly obvious to those who depend on my witty musings on a daily basis that I have not been present as of late. I urge of you who’s lives have been dull because of my absence to write fuming letters of anger and disgust to the writers and creators of the T.V. show Glee.
It’s true, my lack of writing in the last month has been partially due to the fact that I’m working 60+ hours weekly as the leading Pizza Slut in my store. However, if it were not for Glee and the 22 hours of it that are available on Netflix, you most assuredly would have had near-daily postings from me.
When the show Glee debuted, I was unable to watch it because I was working at my bookstore the night it was on, so I had to live vicariously through the only show-choir boy I knew who raved about it incessently at work. Since then, my feelings toward the show had gone the way of Twilight and Harry Potter– so much hype was there that it made me reluctant to form an opinion on the subject.
Finally, a few weeks ago, I decided to bite the bullet and begin my life as a Gleek. While enjoying my day off in a state of near coma-ism, I flipped virtually through the many choices Netflix had to offer me and settled on Glee. I am ashamed to admit I sat and watched the first 7 episodes without moving from my seat. While the show at times is a bit over-dramatic and downright ridiculous, the fact that it contains numerous actors with amazing singing talent is enough to have hooked me. Sadly, though, I was faced with the reality that despite my youthful appearance and demeanor, I am a decade or older than the characters in the show, yet found myself slightly aroused by the teen boys as they belted out Journey and Fat-Bottomed Girls. But nevermind about that.
I was fastly enamoured with the character Curt and his struggle as a gay teen boy, and without a doubt found myself wanting to meet and befriend his stunning and amazing self. Sadly, he is fictional, so I cannot, but the boy who plays him is quite wonderful enough to meet.
Jane Lynch is disturbingly good at playing a wretched cheerleading coach intent on the Glee Club’s demise. However, my heart broke when her handi-capable sister died, and I found myself bawling as the Club oohed and aahed to Pure Imagination. There were several other instances when my tear ducts overflowed, as well, so it is proven that despite the sometimes childish storylines of the show, there are some good writers employed.
The attraction of this show to me is the fact that with no reason whatsoever, the characters burst into song at various intervals, which is exactly as I think life should be.
I realize that yet another season of Glee is impending, as well as the third season that is unavailable on Netflix, but as for today, I would like to state that I have finally finished the second season, and so have dislodged my ass from the indent I’ve created in my Rockstar’s lazyboy, and shall endeavor to once again bi-daily at least entertain you with my ramblings. XOXO
Sparklebumpsthebookwhore 