Wanna know something terrible?
I didn’t watch a new series this week. Yeah, I’m writing this at 7 p.m. on a Thursday night (when I’d normally be sitting down to the pilot of another Netflix gem), but I’ve decided to boycott the effort this issue.
Is that allowed? breaks out “Single Ladies” as tribute to independent-womanness
It is my column, after all.
I wanted to take this week (in the midst of all the True/False mayhem and my exhaustion from a test and paper due earlier today) to give y’all some insight into my “Dear Netflix” process.
It starts on Thursdays. While I’m not a natural-born procrastinator, I like to think I married into the family. I’m really really busy, so seeing me start something earlier than 24 hours ahead of time should definitely make you turn your head nowadays.
I watch about three episodes to write my column each week. If it’s a completely new series to me, these are usually the first three episodes of the series itself.
The cycle goes: two Thursday night, bed at midnight. Up Friday at 6 a.m., watch another, then write until class at 10. Due at 11.
Thursday mornings I’ll try and figure out what I’ll be watching that night. I usually do this by: a. scrolling through my Netflix suggestions for hours; b. asking friends; and c. on occasion, revisiting a childhood favorite.
The suggestions on Netflix itself aren’t a fair bet because my boyfriend (who watches an eclectic mix of cartoons and documentaries about weed) and my roommate (a Vampire Diaries fan) both share a Netflix account with me.
My own taste, which lies somewhere between crappy reality shows you can’t talk much about in a column (RIP Mirjana from “ANTM” ☹) and overly dramatic anything with a strong female lead and lots of offhanded misogyny (see: “Scandal,” “Weeds,” etc.), is rarely represented when I log on.
What I’m getting at is that it takes some digging to get to the good stuff. And by good stuff, I mean the completely subjective subset of Netflix I decide is worthy of my viewing.
Sometimes, my decisions turn out to be flubs. However, more often than not, the time I spend deciding what to watch ends up rewarding me in the long run.
As it turns out, I know myself pretty well, and can usually pick a TV show that I’ll be passionate about. What I hadn’t banked on when I started this column was that I would pick a TV show that I’d be so passionate about every single week I wrote.
As a journalist, I’ve grown used to getting attached to the subjects I write about. When I wrote about the Department of Student Activities’ Speakers Committee, I wanted to join; when I wrote about theater I wanted to act; when I wrote about Sir Sly last week, I wanted to be a groupie.
When you devote your energy fully to understanding someone or something, you grow to love it in a way, and you want to continue to experience it for as long as possible.
The funny thing about writing a column regarding Netflix is that when I invest myself fully in the characters in my TV shows, and I mean completely delve into their psyches, there’s still a whole lot left of them open for me to discover when I’m done writing the article.
I stop writing and I’m still hooked. That’s not a cliché, or just me talking out of my ass. Every week, without fail, I get undeniably obsessed with my subject series.
It’s terrible, really. Where beforehand I could never find anything to watch, I now have an ever-growing list of series I’m convinced I need to watch in their entirety.
This past week, I’ve crammed in more “Orange is the New Black” than I have of any series in the past.
Perhaps that’s why I decided to have a “skip” week. I needed to be obsessed a few more days. Did you hear season three’s coming out soon?
We’re not even gonna talk about how behind I am on “HoC” now.
Ever yours, Netflix,