We've Been Watching Twin Peaks For Two Weeks...

Screen Shot 2015-02-06 at 3.40.12 PM Kealoha and I have spent the last two weeks watching Twin Peaks.

I should probably clarify. We’ve spent the last two weeks at bedtime, huddled around his iPad watching THE FIRST EPISODE in Twin Peaks until I grunt and fall asleep. We’ve been doing this for two weeks. Two weeks! We are forty minutes in.

I was a junior in high school when Twin Peaks was released. If there hadn’t been so much drama going on in my house, I’m pretty sure this is a series I would’ve loved. I mean it’s moody, and I know some random ‘little person’ shows up, and it’s a mystery and it’s created by David Lynch…so this should be part of my teenage memory. Alas, I missed out. So, I thought, I can recapture this part of my lost youth. That’s what Netflix is for, right? To enter the pop culture cool circle? I want to be in that circle.

But by 8:30…okay 8:00, I’m pretty much spent. I mean, my day is OVER. At the time when New Yorkers are just getting ready to head out for dinner, I’m in a tank top, shorts, snuggled in bed. Add into that being warm and full from a home cooked dinner (that I prepared like a good Midwesterner/octogenarian at 5PM), and I fight sleep.

What I can glean from these 40 minutes watched over the last two weeks is that…I don’t get it. I don’t get Twin Peaks. Now, granted, it could be that I’m watching it in five minutes snippets while trying not to fall asleep, and maybe I should try watching it when I wake up bright and bushy-tailed at 4AM. But I don’t know. There’s weird music and acting so over the top that it’s like an opera without the aria (and the fake tuberculosis).

Kealoha assures me that it’s genius and that I’ll get it if I give it a chance. I trust him, so I’ll keep trying. And I do highly enjoy the acid-washed jeans, the floppy early 90s hair, and the gigantic telephones. And I’m both looking forward and fearing when this little person makes his appearance.

But maybe…maybe…this is a circle I don’t belong in. Maybe I’m more of the X-Files weirdness, where Duchovny was comforting and without lipstick.

These are the deep thoughts that I have lately. Deep, deep thoughts.

I really need to get out of the house more often. Actually, I am getting out of the house tonight. I've put on makeup and everything. I just hope I don't look like this:

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Sorry, Duchovny.