So I grew up in the nineties. Sort of. Kind of half in the nineties and half in the…zeroes. I watched All That when it was still funny, know Melissa Joan Hart as both Clarissa and Sabrina, and one time my Skip-It got stuck in a tree. But something I missed either because I wasn’t the right age or because my parents had a strict half hour of television rule was the teenage-drama phenomenon Dawson’s Creek. I think I was more into watching the Rugrats than pseudo soap operas about small towns on Cape Cod.
All of that has changed thanks to the amazing power that is Netflix.
All Dawson’s Creek, all the time. Well, not really all the time. Though I haven’t posted about it much, I’m completing the Columbia Publishing Course this summer. And it’s been an unbelievably hectic schedule filled with some of the most amazing speakers I’ve ever heard. I’ve learned so much about the publishing world it’s incredible, and I would recommend this course to anyone who’s interested in book or magazine publishing.
But it’s drawing to a close tomorrow, and the closer we’ve gotten to the end, the more I find myself watching Dawson’s Creek. It has become my new procrastination tool. (To note, I’ve also read some AMAZING books lately. Check out Gold and The Night Circus and Return to the Olive Farm. Right now. For seriously.) My dissertation for my master’s degree is due at the end of August, and I’ve been writing but not nearly as much as I should. And oddly enough it’s all longhand, which is different for me. Maybe it’s because every time I open my laptop I’m wondering what ridiculous stunts Jen has pulled or how Dawson’s going to make his life even more dramatic in this episode or when will Joey stop being such a pain
Or just generally wonder at the coolness of Pacey. Joshua Jackson transcends teenager-dom in this show. It’s fantastic. Seriously. Look at that face. So much cooler than all the other characters. Except James Van Der Beek in “Don’t Trust the Bitch in Apartment 23.” Cause then he’s older, has stubble and is really really funny.
So yeah. This is me being a gushy teenager a little too late. And not doing the writing I’m supposed to be doing by returning to my blog and doing what I do best: warm up. Not procrastinate. I’m just limbering up my fingers to prepare for the onslaught of writing that is about to begin.