that part of today’s post deals with this week’s season finale of Castle.
Also know that if you’ve made it this far without seeing the episode or
having someone spoil it for you, I’m insanely impressed that you’ve
managed to avoid such a huge part of writerly pop-culture for this long.
with my husband Monday night. Ladies, you might be surprised to know
that men (or mine, at least) don’t watch this particular show for the
same reasons we do. They actually watch *more* for the crime-solving
aspect than the romantic tension. I know, I know…it’s weird, but
that’s just the way they are. I’m fairly certain my husband likes the
humor as well…
women don’t care about the mystery…because I certainly do. But the
character chemistry is largely what keeps me coming back to this
particular show, crime dramas being a dime-a-dozen on TV, and others
having more interesting cases than this one.)
the writers are doing their level best (and a damn fine job too, IMO)
of pulling the emotional tension so tight that it grabs us and won’t let
go. The Black Moment (that moment when we *think* things might work
out, and then they just get much, much worse instead) is perfectly
executed and I’m hanging on every word, allowing myself to be strung
along like some druggie badly needing an adrenaline fix. Things are
ratcheting up to a fever pitch, and it looks like all is lost, but we
still have hope because we can’t help but trust the writers. Not because
writers are normally trustworthy in these situations (quite the
opposite, in fact), but because we *simply can’t help ourselves*. That’s
how strong the emotional connection is between us and the characters.
That one moment where all the tension and conflict that’s been so
carefully built up over the past weeks and months (heck, years!) is
going to either pay us off, or let us down in the worst way possible.
Women across the globe are sitting in their chairs, eyes riveted to the
screen, waiting, hoping, praying… completely wrapped up in the
emotions of two characters whose actions from here on out have the power
to define our mood for the rest of the *week*….
then it happens. Endorphins rejoice, that “feels-so-good” feeling
starts to calm the desperate need and happiness flows through our veins.
It’s perfect, and passionate, and everything we hoped it would be. For
once, the writers came through, and we’re ready and willing to throw
ourselves wholeheartedly into the arms of the next man to even look at
us the right way, because we’re primed and ready for romance. Love, contentment, peace, passion…it’s all there, taking over not only our minds, but our physical responses as well. Some might even call it orgasmic.
darling husband says, “Wow, that was quite the thunderclap in the
background, wasn’t it?” (or something to that effect)
like that, all that lovely tension, all the “feels-so-good” feelings
disappear, and I’m left with…nothing. Emptiness. All that work, all
those emotions, all that wondering and waiting and hoping…squashed
flat under the weight of one insanely well-timed, mood-killing comment.
Naturally this is followed by more inane or “meant-to-be-humorous”
comments throughout the most important scene of the entire show, not
that it matters by then.
it, I know. And from what I’ve heard, he’s not the only one who does
this sort of thing. I love watching TV with him, really I do…I love
that we share an interest in the same shows, but this one little thing
is such a *big* thing sometimes…and basically means I end up
re-watching shows by myself to recapture that emotional “high” that was
ripped away from me the first time.
really only three options for dealing with this that I can see – one is
duct tape, which could work, but I’d be worried about him suffocating.
The second is just not to watch shows with him where I’m emotionally
invested in the characters, so there’s nothing for him to “rip me away”
from. That’s my strategy with the Dr. Quinn series as I re-watch it…I
watch alone, so he can’t ruin the payoff moments for me.
third is what I normally do with TV shows, and that is to just assume
that any strongly emotional moment will inevitably be hijacked, and plan
to re-watch the show again later without him. It’s not nearly as
satisfying, because the second time will *never* be as good as the
first, but…well…we make compromises in relationships. That’s how
do you do this? And if so, has it occurred to you that you could just
as easily take advantage of a woman in this state, instead of ripping
her away from a mental orgasm?
Oh, and just
FYI – this happens with books too. So if you interrupt her, and she
gives you the Death Glare of Doom, you may want to find somewhere else
to be for awhile. That kind of a tease is no laughing matter. Really.
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