I know some of you remember me from the comment sections, but I’ve been asked by the Lovely Lipp Sisters to occasionally pony up a more official… something. As the regulars know, they’re persuasive and they brought all those powers of persuasion to the bargaining table. I haggled a lot, too.
Roberta: Will you write for us?
Roberta: We’re giving you freedom, write what you think best.
Fortunately, there were no hard feelings afterwards.
I was asked to introduce myself a little first. I’m sure some of those will be news to the LLs (Lovely Lipps), too. My name is not really Glass Darkly, and I’m not really the jet-setter I portray myself to be. I’m a forty-year-old woman, a published writer — hey, a story in an anthology counts — who lives in extreme Northern Minnesota. I get my street cred by way of growing up in Detroit and Suburbs there abouts, but these days I’m likely to have deer meandering through my yard. I like it a lot, actually.
I’m married, no children, but several pets. I worked at The Michigan Humane Society for several years, which might be familiar to Animal Planet fans as the organization on Animal Cops: Detroit. I never want that much stress and depression again. Also, the constant comparisons to Dr. Kevorkian, I can do without. I have it on good authority that I appear in an episode for all of ten seconds, in the background, playing fetch with a Rottweiler. This makes me internationally famous since the show is broadcast all over the place. My grandmother, who lives with me, doesn’t always grasp this. “So, you know those people?” “Yes.” “Do you know them well?” “Yes, we got drunk together many time — I mean, yes, I saw them every day.” “Oh. Can we turn on QVC? It’s Diamondeque.”
I actually resented Mad Men at first. See, my stock and trade are naughty stories, and I’ve been working on and off for several years on a story set in an ad agency during the late fifties/early sixties. I’m sure that if I ever share it people will assume it is some sort of twisted fanfic in which small details have been changed to avoid being sued. That’ll learn me for not finishing it earlier. My best friend, a male who laments the day stocking-wearing died … Bye-Bye, Ms. American Thigh-High … insisted I watch because MM was the best thing on TV. I assume he meant the writing as much as the stockings, but I can’t swear to it since he’s a Whedon fan and didn’t notice until I pointed it out that “Connor” was playing Pete Campbell.
The reason I kept watching, after humoring him, is because of the writing. I can’t imagine being a fan of good writing and not lapping up this show like a saucer of cream. In a desert of predictable jokes and plotlines, this is like manna from heaven. This show, set largely in an office, is a water cooler show for people who want more to discuss than The Real World: Mars can provide at this juncture in its devolution.
When I was asked to write about the show, it was an easy decision. We’re on the brink of the second season and still aren’t done discussing the first season. And in that spirit, my first official not-talking-about-me post will be about details I noticed during my, um, 8th viewing of the pilot. If I don’t blow all my observations in comments threads, of course.
If you are a boater or are shopping for a gift for a boater, then buy a lake art wood map for a gift.
Expect song lyrics, pop culture references, and the occasional non-sequitur.