I was planning on writing a review of Terra Nova here on Big Damn Heroes, but I was asked to write a recap of it over at Film.com instead. You can guys can follow me over there, like, if you want to or something, I don’t know. I’ll be writing weekly recaps of Terra Nova (at least, until it is inevitably canceled), and probably some other random stuff as well. I’m going to try and keep up writing about older television here on BDH–DVD catch up projects, rewatches, that sort of thing–including Doctor Who and Farscape, and keep most of the newer stuff on Film.com. The important thing to remember is that BDH is not going away . . . keep us in your G-Readers and your bookmarks. Because we love you.

Gretchen is writing at Film.com now as well, so come and support us. Here’s the link to my Terra Nova recap. Thanks bunches, guys. You’re awesome.

Listen, I’m as quirky as the next hipster twenty-something. I wear double-tongued Converse shoes and buy things like fabric printed with owls even though I DON’T EVEN SEW. I live in Austin, TX only because I can’t afford Williamsburg and Portland gets too much rain. The “You wear knit hats because of Coldplay” joke from the 2 Broke Girls pilot bothered me–not because I don’t like Coldplay, but because it wasn’t a very good “hipster” reference. (The Arcade Fire joke from the end of that episode was only marginally better.) So as a charming, eccentric female, I’m practically duty-bound to like Zooey Deschanel. And I do–based not on the expectation that I’m supposed to like her, but because I think she’s a lovely person. I’ve genuinely liked her ever since I saw her alongside Will Ferrell in Elf. I love She & Him, I love (500) Days of Summer, and I even loved her in Failure To Launch. (The rest of that movie? Not so much.) A few years ago I rocked the heck out of the dark hair and bangs look, in part due to our dear Zooey.

Liking Zooey Deschanel is a good standard to gauge if you’re going to like New Girl. But it’s important to remember that Zooey is not Jess. Obviously, I like Zooey. I’m not so sure about Jess. Are we all familiar with the Manic Pixie Dream Girl concept? If not, go read the wiki primer and then come back and finish reading my review. (I’d also like to take this opportunity to remind you all that Nathan Rabin once starred one of my tweets and it made my year.) By trying to make Jess the opposite of a MPDG, she’s turning into her own specific breed of MPDG. It’s like, the creature that you create to destroy the monster ends up becoming the greater threat. I don’t know, it made sense in my head. Because do women really aspire to be Summer or Jess? I don’t. I’d be friends with either of them, but I wouldn’t want to be them. Summer is too world-weary and Jess is too naive.

The premise is simple–girl dumps her cheating scum of a boyfriend and needs a place to live. Through craigslist, the most trusted of websites, she finds three guys that need a roommate? Whatever, just go with it. They’re hesitant to take her in until they find out that her best friend is a model. CeCe (because she has a name, guys) is played with beauty and grace by Hannah Simone. She’s compassionate, impervious to the advances of the boys, and also the most realistic character of the bunch. I hope we see more of her. And I mean that in a not-gross way. If your mind went there, go put a dollar in the douchebag jar.

Speaking of the douchebag jar (that’s a delightful segue which I hope to use more often), the boys are your standard sitcom fare. There’s Schmidt, the douche in question, played by Max Greenfield who once played–all together now–Deputy Leo! Pilot-Schmidt is a lot like Pilot-Barney Stinson. Barney has grown into a semi-respectable human being, so I can only hope the same for Schmidt. Coach (Damon Wayans Jr.) is only around for this episode, as Damon is committed to ABC’s Happy Endings. (Hooray! I love Brad!) Coach can’t communicate with women and I hope the new guy is a little bit more interesting. (Although it was sorta funny to watch Coach flip out at Jess’ jeggings monologue.) The last guy is Nick (Jake M. Johnson). He’s cute, still not over his ex, and at some point will probably fall for Jess. I hope they take their sweet time in getting to that point. He gets a passing grade from me because it’s clear he actually has a conscience. By the end of the episode, they band together in what is sure to be the first of many rescue attempts. Because…Jess needs saving, I guess? Ugh.

I think my main issue with the show is that Jess is being put in the same kind of Liz Lemon conundrum that we face on 30 Rock. The Liz Lemon Conundrum is that the show presents you with a smart, witty, and undeniably beautiful woman who can’t seem to get a man. That should NOT be the only focus of these women, but the 30 Rock often presents it as such. And we’re expected to go along with it? That’s bull! Leslie Knope from Parks and Recreation is all of those things and she freaking knows it! And she dates handsome and intelligent men and she’s the one dumping these guys because she knows they aren’t right for her. We need more of that confidence in our television women. So when Jess wants to make a Lord of the Rings reference, let her make a Lord of the Rings reference without being told to bury it in a cave! (That’s where Smeagol lives. I’ll be honest–I did laugh pretty hard at that line.)

If we’re going to have “adorkable” as the new catch-phrase of us quirky twenty-somethings, let’s make adorkable be acceptable.

Let’s say New Girl handed me a note in class that said, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” I would make a box for “maybe?” and then give it a few weeks to see how things develop.

Random Asides:

- I liked that’s Jess’ dirty alter-ego not only had a heart of gold, but was working her way through college.

- Who votes for a Bones/New Girl crossover with Jess and Brennan (played by Zooey’s real-life big sis Emily) as actual sisters? They can solve a murder in the guys’ apartment building! Bones can tell Jess how to be her own person and Jess can teach Bones how make popsicle stick crafts for her one-on-the-way.

- “Hey, sailor!”

- Pretty much everything you need to know about the show is expressed in the full-length, Zooey-written theme song. Listen here.

- Have you guys seen The Zooey Deschanel Show? It’s incredible if you like or dislike Zooey D.

The CW’s newest teen supernatural offering is based from a book series that I truly can’t believe I never read as a youth. Fantastical teenage adventures with witchcraft? That’s, like, all I read for three or four years straight. Somehow, L.J. Smith’s series slipped through the cracks. (L.J. Smith is also responsible for the Circle’s companion show on Thursday nights, The Vampire Diaries.) Gratefully, the CW saw fit to bring it back, albeit ten years past my prime appreciation point. But luckily for them, teenage magical drama with just enough camp is still something that I am very much invested in. The Secret Circle, much like Ringer, is one of those shows that need pre-set expectations. Week-to-week, I expect a fun story, pretty teenagers, and plot twists that I totally predicted. Nothing more, nothing less. That being said, let’s dive into the pilot.

Cassie, our young heroine, gets a flat tire in the middle of the creepy, dark farmland. She calls her mom, because she is sensible and caring, but assures her mother that she can take care of it herself. I like her spunk. Everything about Cassie (played by Life Unexpected‘s Britt Robertson) is very relatable. She fits the Emily VanCamp mold of CW Prettiness (TM) but isn’t prissy about it. It’s like they genetically engineered the perfect combination of insecure yet sorta confident and blonde and–boom!–here you have a teenage girl that every single teenage girl would want to be friends with. Oh, also, SHE’S A WITCH. I’m already working on picking out the perfect BFF necklace for the two of us.

While Cassie is battling the flat tire, her mom is at home putting out fires. Literally, in this case, because there is a straight-up crazy guy (we know this because he has a chiseled face and lanky hair) burning her house to the ground. The cut of this scene is so tragic and intense–exceptionally well-done for the hook of a pilot episode. If I just happened to start watching without any prior knowledge of the show, I would have stayed until the end of the episode for that scene alone. Post-opening credits, we cut to one month after the death of Cassie’s mother. She’s going to stay with her grandmother in Chance Harbor, WA. Cassie lacks a certain level of awareness about her surroundings, in what I can only assume is how she is coping with the grief of losing her mom. There are certain things that she reasonably SHOULD have picked up on, but since it’s the pilot, we have to watch her fumble her way through the discovery. Clue #1 that she’s a witch: Her grandma dresses like she was the fourth player in the Macbeth coven poker game every Thursday night. Clue #2 that she’s a witch: Her two friends at school are named FAYE and DIANA. How many Fayes and Dianas do you know that aren’t witches, hmm? Clue #3 that she’s a witch: Everyone makes a big fuss about her being there and how special her mom was to them and how beautiful Cassie is. In teen fiction, having the townspeople make a big deal about your presence is one of the main signs that you’re something special. The only thing that could have made it possibly more clear would have been Hagrid showing up at her door being all, “Yer a witch, Cassie.”

The show spends too much time exploring the town and introduction of the characters. You know the adage about when you’re writing a book, just cut the entire first chapter? As something of a seasoned tv viewer, I would have preferred starting with the second episode and all of its presumed action. Backstory can always come later, as evidenced with Veronica Mars. But keeping in mind the expectations of the show–I’m neither surprised nor really disappointed with the exposition of the pilot. We get some interesting tidbits dropped about the relationships of Cassie’s mom with the principal and also with Adam’s dad. I totally eat up that “written in the stars” stuff.

We get a brief introduction to Nick (Mr. Shirtless) and Melissa (Little Miss Sidekick). I’m really intrigued by these two. Nick’s got the bad boy vibe and you can just tell that Melissa is getting irked by her sidekick role. I look forward to finding out more about what happens with their characters. Our main cast includes the aforementioned Faye (Phoebe Tonkin), Diana (Shelley Hennig), and Adam (Thomas Dekker). Here’s where all the soapy deliciousness comes into play. You see, Faye wants to use her powers for evil–so much so that I kept thinking that she’s like a young version of Lord Voldemort. So much so that I’m just going to refer to Faye as Lady Voldemort or She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. (Sidebar: In the Circle, do they call the guys Warlocks? I don’t believe that was ever established.) Diana is the Responsible One–you can tell because she wears button-down shirts and vests and the like. And sweet, dreamy Adam is dating Diana but he’s totes into Cassie. It’s written in the stars, y’all.

Cassie spends the majority of the episode following around people she BARELY even knows and anytime she’s like, “I don’t know where we’re going,” they respond, “Oh, TRUST ME.” and she’s all, “Eh, why not? My mom just died so I’m going to do anything they tell me to do until I can go home and watch the stars on my ceiling dance around.” I’m not complaining, as the discovery of her powers was fairly entertaining. It started with her going out to the magic shack in the woods. Faye spills the magical beans, much to the chagrin of the circle. (It’s a secret circle because NOBODY knows about it. Get it?!) Adam runs off to comfort Cassie and then they do magic in the woods, which sounds much less scandalous than it actually is. All they do is make the dew drops rise around them and it’s gorgeous. It really is. Props to the FX team, even if it means that it did blow the budget for the rest of the episode. So the car-on-fire (not gonna even touch on that level of crazy from Lady Voldemort) didn’t work, but a cute boy brings her powers out.

Faye ends up at the harbor (by chance, I am sure), and drunk off her power invokes a massive thunderstorm. My recollection of this scene is tainted by the fact that I realized, “Hey, I’ve been to that pier!” They’re filming in BC and I had the best halibut burger of my life at a restaurant just up the street from there. I ate calamari at the Sockeye City Grill, which you can see in the background. I stood where Faye stood! I pull myself together right when Cassie runs to the rescue and uses her newfound powers to calm the raging sky.

As with all teen fantasy, magic is used as a metaphor for teen shenanigans. The parents do their parent-y stuff, even though it’s also shrouded in secrecy. And they wonder where their kids get it from! Right now I’m more interested in the lives of the teenagers, so we’ll see if that changes as the series continues forward. Cassie finds her family magic book right before she goes to bed. Her mom wrote her a note with enough info to truly confirm her suspicions that she is a powerful witch, but raises even more questions than it answer. Like, who exactly is after Cassie? Will she ever be able to do magic that doesn’t involve the elements? And when is Adam going to ask her to the Prom? While the pilot is far from perfect, I believe the series holds a lot of promise. I can’t wait to watch everything come…wait for it…full circle.

- – -

Before you read this review, I need you to ask yourself one question: Why do you watch television? I watch television for a lot of different reasons. I watch it to feel comforted, to enjoy myself, to be informed, and to challenge myself, and I watch it as an exploration of the world around me. The great shows are the ones who can do all of those things, but most shows only regularly achieve one or two, maybe three if they’re lucky. Because I consume television both on an intellectual level and an emotional level, and because I am a fickle human being, my television “needs” often vary from day to day, even hour to hour. It’s the great ones that stick with you, but sometimes we as viewers just need something else. If I’ve had a hard day, sometimes I just want some Gilmore Girls, you know? Some Stargate SG-1. Sometimes we need vintage, well-aged wine, and sometimes we need an oreo milkshake. Think of it as fluff. My fluff is relatively mindless, often ridiculous, and always highly emotional. Mileage on your particularly brand of fluff may vary, but it remains fluff nonetheless. Ringer is fluff. Ringer is an oreo milkshake, and attempting to compare it in any way to its wine counterpart makes both you and the wine look kind of silly.

I wasn’t planning on writing about Ringer at all, but my opinion of the pilot was different enough from the majority that it seemed worth it to take a little extra time out of my day to try to sort out my thoughts (and share them with you all, of course). The difficulty in this lies in separating SMG’s seven seasons of work as Buffy Summers from her portrayal of estranged identical twins Bridget and Siobhan. This might actually be completely impossible, but I think it’s important to at least try to compartmentalize the two, judging Ringer on it’s own merits (whatever those might be). So let’s just face it up front: there ain’t no show on the air today that combines pathos and humor with thematic exploration and character development the way that Buffy the Vampire Slayer did consistently from 1997-2003, and all filtered through the lens of the wonderful and much under-appreciated art of the fantastical metaphor, no less. (Doctor Who is a possible exception to this statement, but it’s not even an American show, and probably shouldn’t count). Quite simply, judging what is essentially a second-hand soap opera (one of CBS’s leftovers) on the same scale as what is now arguably a founding classic of the serialized “quality television” era is simply monumentally unfair.

With all of that said, and despite the fact that I will openly I admit that I thoroughly enjoyed myself while watching it, the pilot for Ringer simply isn’t that good.

Probably it’s worst sin is the fact that watching it is eerily reminiscent of watching a Lifetime Original Movie (a quality that might account for my enjoyment of it, now that I think about it . .  . like a lot of young women my age, I have a strange attraction to Lifetime Original Movies that just can’t be explained). But Lifetime movies are one thing, and pilots for network television programs quite another. Speaking objectively (i.e. with my inner fanatic turned off), Ringer‘s pilot features a script that squanders great potential with dull, opaque dialogue and dour, unhappy characters. Writers Eric Charmelo and Nicole Snyder, whose biggest credits to date are a couple of episodes from Supernatural‘s sixth season, seem to have no feel for how to structure their story to get the most out of its potential. They also have a tendency to use overly broad metaphors (shots of Bridget and Siobhan in front of mirrors are, shall we say, abundant?) in place of substantial dialogue. But even a great script can be ruined by poor direction and editing. For instance, that in media res opening seemed to have no point to begin with, but the potentially creepy and effective use of Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces” is ruined by the cheesy score piped over it. What could have been a subtle, eery moment turns into stinky gouda, and not even the good kind. That moment is really emblematic of what’s wrong with the pilot as a whole: it takes itself too seriously. I said earlier that critics would be amiss to compare Ringer to a great television show, but Ringer itself seems to be unaware of its own genre shortcomings. Instead of throwing all this overly broody melodrama at us, depressing poorly cut scene after depressing poorly cut scene, they should be having fun with it. Don’t they know how funny Sarah Michelle Gellar can be?

Especially these days, pilots need to impress right out of the gate in order to get the ratings to even remain on the air for more than two or three episodes. I can think of quite a few shows from the past two decades that had pilots, even whole first seasons at the same quality level of Ringer, but which eventually found their groove and evolved into watchable, successful television. If Ringer had been picked up by CBS, or if it didn’t star SMG in not one, but two main roles, I feel pretty safe in saying that it would probably have been canceled almost instantly, but it does air on the CW, and it it does star Sarah Michelle Gellar, and that gives it an advantage most shows these days just don’t have. I hope the show will have the time it needs to grow into the show it has the potential to be, and that the showrunners don’t take its high ratings (2.84 million viewers, a three year high for the CW) as an indicator of its quality.

I’m going to keep watching Ringer, not just out of loyalty or curiosity, but because I miss the days when TV shows had time to grow and find themselves. I want to give this show a chance, and I think you guys should, too. I would like to see how Bridget’s relationship with all of Siobhan’s men develop. I would like to learn what shenanigans Siobhan is up to. I want to know what happened to baby Sean. I want to know who is going to have sex with who, and if they’re going to get caught. I want to know who’s going to fall tragically and horribly in love. I want lots of kissies and smoochies, and I want them to do it all with devious smiles on their faces. I want to have fun watching this show, I just want that fun to be a reflection of what’s actually on the screen, and not just a dull reflection of my beloved SMG’s former glory.

See what I did there?

10. The Tree of Life, May 27

I never got around to watching this. I’d still like to, but the post-release hype wasn’t convincing enough for me.

9. Midnight in Paris, May 20

This one will stick with me the most. I still have daydreams about the world of Paris in the 20s.

8. The Art of Getting By, June 17

Totally forgot this movie even existed. Whoops?

7. Thor, May 6

All of my superhero movies built upon one another. Thor was fun…

6. X-Men: First Class, June 3

…X-Men was fun and intelligent…

5. Cowboys & Aliens, July 29

Haven’t seen this yet. (sad face) At this point I’ll just wait for the cheap theater.

4. Captain America: The First Avenger, July 22

…and Captain America was fun and intelligent and had heart. Chris Evens and Hayley Atwell completely won me over. (Can we just talk about how frakking awesome the last few minutes of the movie were? May 4th, I am SO ready for you.)

3. The Help, August 12

All of my effusive love from the last post is still intact. Even though the book is better (as expected), this is a very effective book-to-movie adaption. My favorite part was how the movie drew frequent audible reactions from the crowd.

2. Super 8, June 10

Super 8 wins my prize for best summer movie. I felt like I was a kid at the theater again and I LOVE feeling like that. While I was watching it, I had the thought, “I can’t wait to have kids so I can watch this movie with them.”

1. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, July 17

It was a summer of Harry Potter for me. I re-read the books and waited impatiently for the movie. I am, and forever will be, a true Harry Potter fan until I die. (Confidential to my Pottermore invite: You can arrive any day now. That’d be swell.)

The only other movie I caught this summer was Crazy, Stupid Love. While it kind of drove me nuts, some of the scenes had me doubled-over with belly laughter. I’ll take a funny, uneven movie over a just plain uneven movie any day.

What was your favorite summer movie?

Claire: Stuff like this makes me excited to someday have a daughter of my own… “Oh, Alex, honey! When you’re out shopping, you might want to pick up yourself a training bra! I know you don’t need one now but your little boobies are going to come in soon! Mummy loves you, kitten! [Mumbling] Teach her to screw with me.”  (Also the one scene where Gloria makes her jump into the pool. That was incredible.)

Phil: I’m gonna hark all the way back to the pilot and pick when he shoots Luke, Dylan, and finally himself with a soft air gun.

Haley: No major memorable moments, but I did appreciate the scene where she rubbed her phone battery all over her head to re-charge it.

Alex: This girl is SO MUCH like one of my real-life friends that it kind of freaks me out sometimes. The bit with her convincing Luke that Judy Greer was his real mom could have been taken from the diary of my friend’s life.

Luke: I just want to put him in my pocket and take him home with me. Definitely my favorite moment is when Luke and Phil riff on what could be hidden under the house. It could be ANYTHING!

The Pritchett-Tuckers

Mitchell: Anything that gets Mitchell riled up is automatically funny. (Case in point: The pigeon from the finale.) During Luke’s school project on Van Gogh, he makes the point that Vincent looked a little bit like an insane Mitchell. Annnnd cut to Mitchell running hysterically away from a skunk.

Cam: Gosh, everything? One that brought on a full belly laugh was “Travels With Scout” when Cam volunteered to play the drums for Dylan and his band.  It’s Cam’s scarcely contained glee at the little switcheroo he just pulled that slays me. (Here’s the link to the clip on hulu. If I can figure out how to embed, then I will do that soon.)

Lily: I’m so sad they re-cast Little Miss Unresponsive. (Even if the new Lily is pretty darn adorable.) All of Lily’s non-reactions to the camera are the perfect foil to the rest of the cast.

The Pritchett-Delgados 

Jay: So what if his voiceovers get a little bit Danny Tanner-ish at times? Jay’s a big ol’ softie on the inside. One of my favorite Jay moments is watching Jay’s intial skepticism towards Javier (Gloria’s ex and Manny’s father) turn into adulation turn into the disappointment that Manny has had to deal with for so many years.

Gloria: Remember when in “My Funky Valentine” Gloria started describing Columbian comedians and how they compared to David Brenner? “Does he have a mallet? Then how does he get hit in the head?” With Gloria, it’s not always what she says, but how she says it.

Manny: Manny gets funnier with every episode. You’d think the kid-acting-as-an-adult routine would be old by the fourth episode, but he just keeps getting better! My regards to Rico Rodriguez. “If this so-called Santa Clause doesn’t bring me a burgundy dinner jacket, I’m going to have a big problem.” “I’m just a boy trying to bring back style to travel!” “[Lay-ups] are deceptively hard. A curious mix of dance and strength.”

Let’s cap off the list with what may possibly be my favorite moment of Season One. Maybe happy families can all be happy in their own different way.

In “Hawaii,” Claire and Phil discuss how their family vacation couldn’t turn into a honeymoon. Phil confesses that he was foolish to ever think that it could, but that was because you can’t have a honeymoon with a proper wedding first. They renew their vows on the beach and the ukulele guy sings “Eye of the Tiger” and plays out the scene. (Here’s the clip.) It was raining on my face a little when this happened.

The first nine episodes of FNL are all very well-done…almost suspiciously so for being the first season of a series. “It’s Different For The Girls” is the supremely written 10th episode and thus far the best of the ten. Jason Street’s injury left the town reeling, but now that he’s getting settled in to his new life, so are the Taylor’s. Confidence is budding in the town, especially in the relationship of young Julie and Matt. Their blossoming, giggling romance is such a stark contrast to dysfunction of the Lyla/Tim/Jason story. (And all of you that have professed your love for Tim Riggins? I GET IT NOW. Oh, do I get it.)

Ever since Jason punched out Tim after the wheelchair game, the high school is abuzz with rumors about Tim and Lyla. In this case it’s unfortunately not difficult to put two and two together. Tim and Lyla respond very differently to the allegations. There’s something implied in their family situations that causes them to respond the way they do and that’s briefly touched on. Tim faces it with an understanding of abandonment because to him, that’s just the way things are. That’s what his parents did and when Tyra left, he handled it flippantly. When it comes to Lyla, though, Tim has a sense of longing and regret–enough so that you know when the two vow to call it off, you know that’s not really going to be the case. Lyla, however, comes from a background of supposed stability and trust. To her it isn’t only a matter of fidelity, it’s also a matter of forgiveness from Jason and the Lord. (Sidebar: One of the most interesting things to me about watching FNL is how straightforward the show is about religion. These are people that would be very god-fearing and FNL never neglects that aspect of their humanity.)

Even more so, “It’s Different For The Girls” shows how Tim and Lyla cope based on the reactions of the boys and girls in their school. These reactions vary based on the fact that Tim is a guy and Lyla is a girl. The Panthers are none too thrilled with Tim’s behavior–they smash in his car windows and more or less move on. The girls, especially those on Lyla’s cheer team, offer a stream of back-handed remarks, blatant harassment, and some harsh web-bullying of Lyla–enough so to the point that she quits the cheerleading squad. Regina George and the Plastics look like well-adjusted teenagers compared to these mean girls.  The boys are also more forward with their come-ons and when Tim joins Lyla at lunch, she offers the sad reminder that serves as the title for this episode. I don’t think they’re trying to say that it’s like this everywhere, but they are making the point that it is like this in a lot of places…and it shouldn’t be. Both parties are responsible for the culminating consequences of their actions. The whole story is oddly reminiscent of the New Testament account of the woman that was caught in adultery and brought to Christ.

Even the legitimacy of football versus cheerleading is raised in an early scene with the Taylor family, it isn’t until Julie reveals that she has plans with Matt that Coach Taylor says that he’s making plans to have the team attend the cheer competition that weekend. It’s clear that he had no intention of requiring that of the team before Julie brought up her plans with Matt, so it’s not so much a show of support as it is a half-baked plan to keep her daughter away from QB1. The cheerleaders are at every single football game and then some, but getting the football team to go to one of their competitions involves parental passive-aggressiveness. During a pep rally the boys dress up in skimpy little cheer outfits. It’s a gimmick that’s meant to be cutesy in rallies but in the context of the episode comes off as extremely, extremely sexist.

Matt and Julie, on the other hand, have no qualms about their budding relationship. Well, at least Julie doesn’t. Matt’s still spitless of Coach and Mrs. Taylor and who wouldn’t be? At least he and Julie have good taste in television–they’re seen watching the “Grief Counseling” episode of The Office, a hidden tidbit that delighted yours truly. At Julie’s urging, Matt starts to stick up for the two of them and in doing so wins the award of “Most Adorbs Football Player Ever,” an award that I just made up but will be giving out yearly. Julie Taylor sees the ugly side of high school problems, so she doesn’t have as much of an issue as Coach, who can’t get past the fact that daddy’s little girl is falling for some guy. (Daddy’s little girl is very aware of the impact that this is having on her folks. Julie dating Matt is partially because he’s sweet and cute and totally into her, but also because her ever-busy parents have to pay attention to her now that she’s involved with her dad’s new star. Sly, Julie. Very sly.)

In other high school drama, Smash is still dealing with his new doping habit. Results are being noticed on the field–he’s now super fast!–and off the field–nose bleeds all the time, bummer dude! There’s this gorgeous new girl that he magically happens to know from his past. I like her. She’s sassy and held her own in a terribly meta classroom debate about monogamy. The whole steroids plot is one of the weaker in the series up to this point and honestly it bores me. I vote we  just get rid of Smash and keep the new girl. Other developments include Jason and Lyla making steps towards semi-reconciliation and Lyla coming back to the squad because it’s where she finds happiness. (Thanks to the prompting of Tim Riggins, of all people.) There’s a great character moment where Lyla talks about how her parents dressed her up in cheer outfits and took her to games since the age of 5. For parents in Dillon, this can be just as big a deal for their girls as football is for their boys. Like it or not, that’s just the way it is. (Totally rolling my eyes right now.)

Moral of the story: Bring. It. On.

Random Asides:

-I find it interesting that we know so much about Buddy Garrity and SO little about Mrs. Garrity. It’s a good way of highlighting the very patriarchal nature of this town/culture.

-Tami Taylor has some golden moments in this ep.  ”They had a blanket.” -Coach “You’re an idiot.” -Tami

-After Tami sees a note that the girls have written Lyla, she quips, “Well, that’s just bush league.” I know everyone looooves Coach Taylor but for me, it’s all about Tami.

-Killer soundtrack–this episode featured Jose Gonazalez’s “Storm.”

-Landry is a redhead that’s jealous of his best friend’s success and every time he does something I think to myself, “Ron Weasley!”

“Greetings, Princess. It is I, Carlos the Dwarf. The dragon has been slain, and you’re free to rule your kingdom” -Daniel Desario

Any tv fan worth their salt knows at least two classic episodes revolving around the popular role-playing game Dungeons & Dragons. (Are there any others?) One is the finale of Freaks and Geeks and the other is Community’s recent “Advanced Dungeons and Dragons.” Oddly, both have characters named Neal. I’ll save the adventures of Pierce the Flatulent for another day, so let’s focus on the kids in the A/V club. (No, not that AV Club.) The entire run of Freaks and Geeks spins around the inclusion of Lindsey–a former Geek–fitting in with the so-called Freaks, so I find it interesting that Paul Feig & Co waited until the very end to show the exact opposite. Daniel, a Freak at heart, is forced to spend time with the Geeks due to pulling the fire alarm to get out of a test. And not only does he kinda-sorta-fit in, he also enjoys himself.

It’s understandable, though, because neither group has social prominence over the other. This isn’t Gossip Girl, where social status determines your every action. There’s a certain level of understanding between all outcast groups, even if the chosen methods of extrapolation vary.

Can I just say that I think Ken is right? Disco really is the worst, and this is coming from a girl whose ABBA Gold collection is one of her most frequently played albums. The dancing sucked, the beats sucked, and the outfits sucked royally. In short, disco sucks. Disco is also shiny and catchy, two things that caught Nick Andopolis’ eye because Nick’s like the stoner version of a magpie.  I did not live through that era and I thank the heavens above that I don’t have to.  (Also, we get more Lizzy Caplan in this subplot! She’s the coolest and needs to be in my life more often.)

Lindsey’s storyline is predictable from the start. Even if we do know that she’s going to sluff off Nerdstock, the prospect of those two glorious weeks is enough to make up for the schmaltz. There’s going to be more hippie dancing, too. (The scene of Lindsey dancing along to “Box of Rain” was a bold move–the tone is so gorgeous and free. It maybe one of my favorite moments in the series.) Lindsey still isn’t sure of who she is as a person, yet, but I like that she’s willing to explore. I think Hippie Lindsey fits her personality better than Freak Lindsey and I wish that that we had a second season to explore that side of Lindsey.

The end of a school year (and a tv show for that matter) follows certain traditions, but both are perfect times of transition. These beloved characters have changed vastly over the course of 18 episodes and still manage to stay beloved. Even secondary characters, like Kim Kelly, have become likeable and you’re really torn to see them go.

“Discos and Dragons” isn’t a great representation of a classic F&G episode, but by and large it is an excellent tv finale. It feels like a reward for the faithful few that have watched ’til the end. (The producers knew that it would be the last one to air.) The episode ends on the warm and fuzzy side, although there’s an unspoken acknowledgement that all hell would have broken loose at the beginning of a supposed Season Two. Daniel would have returned to Kim and Ken. Lindsey would still be suffering the repercussions of missing her academic summit to spend two weeks tooling around with Dead Heads. (Oh, to see the look on Harold Weir’s face when he found out.) And, well, Nick would probably still be trying to learn magic so he could win the next disco competition. The message that Feig & Co are trying to get across is loud and clear–be who you are and co-exist happily with those around you. For a bunch of misfits, I’d say they’re doing pretty well for themselves.

Moral of the Story: If you’re learning the Hustle, you should probably pick up a few magic tricks to go along with it.

Random Asides:

-For details on what might have happened in season two, Feig revealed details during a San Francisco Sketchfest a few years back. I would pay good money to see Kim doing musical theater.

-Also, they had a Paleyfest Panel this spring with more details from the cast. Even if your show does get cancelled, I think you can still feel like a success if you have a cast reunion ten years later that people still obsess over.

-Here’s Sepinwall’s review, because he says everything better.

-Watching Jason Segal dance is one of my greatest pleasures in life.

-Harris is resplendent as the dungeon master. I wish we could have had a Harris spin-off.

-Have any of you watched Undeclared? What did you think? I haven’t watched it yet.

-Freaks and Geeks had an average of 7 million viewers watching every week. Today, NBC would be thrilled to have 7 million especially for a show like this. Funny how things change.

-Dear Freaks and Geeks, Let’s do this again in another couple of years. Sound good? Good. Love, Gretchen

Marissa

It was summer of 1999, and my parents and I were at the train station in Boston, about to visit some relatives. While waiting, I perused the gift shop and one book caught my eye. It was the first Harry Potter book. While browsing through it and reading snippets I was reminded of my favorite childhood author, Roald Dahl. Their style of writing seemed similar to me, and I pointed this out to my parents. I then made a mental note to look further into the book later. That Christmas, I received a present from my Dad. This was significant because he never had anything to do with buying the presents. My mom always did all the shopping and the wrapping. But here was this present that he had gone out and bought by himself just for me. When I opened it, I was pleasantly surprised to see two Harry Potter books! He had gotten a little mixed up and bought the first and third in the series, but that is definitely my favorite Harry Potter memory.

Paul

Stop me if I’m oversharing or you’re not interested, but I read books one through four for the first time back to back and outside in the Chapel Glen in Fort Douglas up by the new dorms at the University of Utah.  If you’re driving to Primary Children’s Hospital, just look to the right immediately after driving under the big suspension bridge that they built for the Olympics and you’ll see the grassy ravine I’m talking about.  There’s enough trees there that when you’re down inside you can’t see buildings or hear traffic noise from above and it’s almost like being in the woods, but in the middle of a major metropolis (kind of like magic exists unbeknownst to Muggles nearby).  It was the summer of 2000 and I’d come to school two weeks early to do an intensive language class for freshmen.  I borrowed the books from the Hubbard’s and returned them all before the fall semester began.

That’s not my favorite memory.  I’ve attached a picture of my Halloween costume from October 2000.  Granted, my red cape wasn’t exactly a school uniform robe, but I did spike my hair and try for striped rugby shirts that British youth wear.  Without the glasses and the broom, you might never guess, but I was a poor college students and it didn’t matter anyway because none, I mean NONE, of my classmates had even heard of Harry Potter.  Everyone except for Marissa, that is.  I wore this same outfit to the midnight premiere of the first movie at the newly opened Gateway mall theater, and the only thing people complemented me on was the lipstick lightning bolt on my forehead.  Everyone arrived at the theater hours in advance so they let us get seated around 11:30 and then screened Looney Tunes cartoons until midnight.  That is my favorite Pottermem.

Aubrey

Chapter 23: Christmas On the Closed Ward

But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum wrapper.

‘Very nice, dear,’ said Neville’s grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.

But Neville said quietly, Thanks, Mum.’

His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he’d ever found anything less funny in his life.

‘Well, we’d better get back,’ sighed Mrs Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. ‘Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now.’

But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket.

Dan

Harry Potter… What do you say about Mr. Potter? I’ve been thinking about this for a few days, agonizing over what I’d write (because, let’s face it, this is me). Do I write about the moment in Goblet of Fire when I first realized the road that Hermione and Ron were going down? Do I write about the loud…”discussions” I’ve had with people who thought Harry should end up with anyone except Ginny? Or what about the fact that Order of the Phoenix is the only book to ever get me so agitated that I actually shouted at it. Out loud. (I may or may not have threatened to throw it across the room, as well. I’m pleading the Fifth on that one.)

But then I realized that there was one event that made all of these other things possible.

Picture it: New York City, 2001. The streets were packed with wizards and Parrot Heads that night…

Prior to the release of the first Potter film, I was only moderately aware of the books. I had seen them around. My sister, a reading teacher, had bought each of the hardcovers for our little cousin. A friend of mine was reading them. But, for whatever reason, I just hadn’t given them much thought. However, my lack of Potter-mania at the time did prevent me from going to see the first movie when it opened that blustery (I’m assuming) November night.

A friend–not the one who was already reading the Potter books–invited me to join a group of his co-workers who were going to see Philosopher’s Stone on opening night. I love a good movie. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you: “Dan loves a good movie.” So, that being the case, I agreed to join them.

I don’t think I need to explain my reaction to the movie. Just re-read the first paragraph, you’ll see that I’ve been a fan ever since that night. A few months later, I bought the box set of the first four paperbacks. I was reading them by the time Chamber of Secrets came to theaters. I was well ahead of things when the third movie came out. No, the fact that Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone made me a fan is not really the point of all of this. I bet you’re now wondering what the point is. Well, the point is this: Regardless of everything that has come after, when I think of Harry Potter, the first image that comes to mind is walking out of that theater and seeing people dressed as witches and wizards, of walking to the subway in a crowd of Potter-clad individuals, and passing through a group of Parrot Heads.

That’s right. On the same night that I saw the first Harry Potter movie, Jimmy Buffet was performing not two blocks away at the majestic (I guess?) Madison Square Garden. New York can be strange enough on a regular night, but finding yourself surrounded by people in robes and witches’ hats, not to mention people in Hawaiian shirts and parrot hats is just one of those moments that will be with you forever.

Just writing about that night is making me grin like an idiot. And, despite all of the loss, pain, and suffering in the Potter series, these books are about so much more than that. For me, Harry Potter is about love, family, and friendship. Y’know, all the things that make you grin like an idiot.

Jennie

I was in high school when the first few books came out and, as luck would have it, I worked at a library at the time. And THANK GOD, you know? Because I’m not sure, had I not worked there, at what point I would have discovered them. I went to the break room one afternoon, sort of bummed that all of my work friends were on different schedules that day, because it meant I was on break alone and couldn’t spend it giggling over stupid things with them like I normally did. Little did I know, I was about to get an injection of MAGIC, STRAIGHT TO THE HEART. That works like adrenaline, in case you were wondering, only it’s less painful because magic injections don’t use actual pointy needles (because of magic, duh) like adrenaline injections do OMG WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT?

Anyway. The children’s librarian, a delightfully batty old woman, was in there, placing a paperback book on the break room table. She smiled at me as she walked out of the room, I sat down at the table with a soda, and picked up the book. “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone,” I read aloud. I shrugged, opened the book, and settled into my short break. I was a few chapters in by the time my break was over, but instead of leaving it on the break room table where I found it, I took it up front and checked it out, along with Chamber of Secrets. I still remember how I felt when I read those first few chapters of The Sorcerer’s Stone…the surprise, the absolute giddy surprise at the magic being unfurled before me. The pull to finish what I’d started, the primal need to KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, that lasted until the very (tear-filled) end. When I finished the last book, I remember thinking, “well, at least there are some movies left.” Now that EVERYTHING is almost over, I’m mostly just worried…worried that I’ll never read a book that makes me feel the way these books did, of course, but also worried that I’m going to completely embarrass myself in the movie theater by becoming a sobbing, snotty mess. You know, sort of like what happened during Deathly Hallows, part 1.

(the end, hee)

Unmaskd

A little farewell inspired by the event

The world is too big and life is too short,
You are no Harry and no Voldemort.
Not even a sidekick — bystander at best,
Watching the heroes to go on a quest.

Exit the theater, close the book,
Hear one more sound, take one more look.
It felt so real, but magic is gone
You are not Chosen, you are just one.

Abigail

Before I moved to California to be an adult, I spent most of my summers at HoneyRock Camp in Northern Wisconsin. First as a camper and later on staff. I repaired roofs, built outhouses, cleaned toilets, and washed dishes every summer while Jo Rowling released Harry Potter books. I read the first three books in one weekend after stealing them from my brother and then, since I was out of books to read, quickly forgot about the magic of Hogwarts and focused on the forthcoming magic of HoneyRock in the summer of 2000. I’m ashamed of forgetting, of not knowing Emerson Spartz or anticipating the films or longing for more pages and it’s hard to say that out loud. It’s hard to admit there was a time when I didn’t count down the days to a new cauldron and a trip to Diagon Alley. But so was the case and I was involved in my own life which was living on my own, working on my own, and being a social butterfly for the first time ever, even if it was within the confines of a camp in Three Lakes. But my friend Paul was doing both things. He was repairing roofs and washing dishes and staying up with me playing Candy Land til 3 in the morning and he was also waiting and waiting and waiting for Goblet of Fire.

Our schedule didn’t allow for us to travel and so he couldn’t make the three hour drive to the nearest Barnes and Noble to wait in line at midnight. Instead he used a pay phone to call (call!) Amazon.com and arrange a very special owl post out to our own little magical village. The day the tome was scheduled to arrive (two days after the release date and the fastest he could convince them to get it to us in the woods) he was sick with worry. He stopped by the camp office four times that morning to see if the UPS truck had arrived. When our boss asked where he was, I covered for him, enamored with the love he had for this story. I was jealous that he was a fan of something and I was just a fan of staying up late and boys and life in general. I didn’t know what fan meant yet. The internet was still a baby. The book showed up at 5:25 pm while Paul and I were on dinner duty. I remember someone bringing the box up to the kitchen and he quickly ripped it open and ran his hand over the front, the spine, and the back, the way I’ve seen so many readers turn so many books since. Then he cracked it open somewhere in the middle, wanting a taste but also not wanting spoilers. He wanted to see Hogwarts for a brief second before returning to our meal in our own great hall in our own magical place. The book waited in his backpack for a few hours until we were free for the evening.

There was no Candy Land that night. Paul sat in a corner that night flying through pages. I was with other friends, happy in conversation trying to make people laugh and trying to make people like me. But my mad-eye in the back of my head was watching him read. I was painfully jealous of the idea of loving Harry so much and I was grieving my lack of obsession. Before heading back to our cabins after pushing the evening too late again, Paul tucked his book in with Candy Land in our cupboard of toys and games and books. He’d be back in a few short hours after the breakfast shift and back at Lower Chrouser to read before lunch.

The book was gone the next morning. Paul was mortified. He emptied the cupboard (under the stairs) and laid out each board game, each pioneer-era romance novel, each deck of cards hoping that somehow 734 pages of the Triwizard Tournament had slipped beneath the cracks. But in the five hours of darkness, someone had slipped in and taken it. He launched a camp-wide search. Who had access to the room? There were less than 50 of us that used that space and we all knew each other. Who may have been in there in the middle of the night? Who may have been confused as to who the book belonged to? But it was no accident. Everyone knew it was Paul’s book. In fact, everyone knew it was the only copy on campus. And also his name was on it. He asked everyone personally. He made signs. Everyone was blank faced. We felt sorry for him.

Four long, painful days later the book was back in the cupboard under the stairs of Lower Chrouser. As quietly as it had vanished it was back. Inside was a thank you note and an apology. One of us fifty stole it, the anonymous thief admitted. They were very, very sorry, and they knew how much it meant to him, but they had picked up the book in the middle of a sleepless night and couldn’t put it down. They had never met Dumbledore before, but they couldn’t stay away. And they couldn’t bear the thought of not finishing the book and so in a moment of shame they stole the book away, to illicitly read somewhere else, to know magic. Paul finished the book quickly after that. By then the cupboard sported a wait list where we had all scrawled our names, hoping to borrow the magic too.

Emily

My favorite moment is when Dumbledore tells Harry about the chosen one prophecy, and how Neville could have been the chosen one. Now, I should disclose that this was the only chapter of the book I read (which book I do not recall), and in fact, I’ve only ever fully read the first book. What makes this my favorite moment is that my former roommate, Ashley (Narfna), got so upset when I told her what I had done. For some reason, she believed it was wrong to seek out the spoilers and disregard the remainder of the books. I think she was equally appalled that I discovered Dumbledore’s death without having to read the books. But really, she likes Twilight, so can I really trust her tastes in books like Harry Potter? I think not.

Elisabeth

Srah

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle –

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye.  With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake’s head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort’s mouth was open in in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake’s body thudded to the ground at his feet…

The real hero is:
Destroyer of Horcruxes,
Neville Longbottom

Ashley

My favorite feeling in the entire world is that feeling you get when you open up a new Harry Potter book for the first time and read the first sentence. I remember exactly where I was each time I did this.

Book One: Summer 1999. Found paperback copy of Sorcerer’s Stone on my sister’s floor (I was snooping). She was supposed to have read it for her book club, but of course hadn’t touched it. I sat down in the hallway right then and there and read straight until the scene when Harry climbs into Gryffindor tower for the first time. Then I stole the book, ’cause, hey, she wasn’t using it. This was around one in the morning. That night, I had a nightmare about the Sorting Hat telling Harry he was supposed to be in Slytherin. I believe this indicates I had already formed an unhealthy attachment, and it had only been an hour or so. (Sister never noticed that I stole her book, but I eventually made it up to her by getting her the complete set of hardcovers for her high school graduation.)

 

Books Two and Three: Christmas 1999. I got books one-three in hardcover from “Santa.” This was the Christmas my entire family had the flu, and Christmas dinner consisted of Campbell’s tomato soup bought from a Circle K at 8 o’clock at night. (Besides the Potter, my favorite thing about this story is how me, my mom, and my sister were able to be up and basically about, but my father took to his bed and acted like he was dying, despite that we all had THE EXACT SAME FLU. Men are pathetic, and the man cold is a real thing.) I sat in front of the Christmas tree all day while my family were miserable on the couch (or dying in bed) and read all of books one and two. My butt fell asleep and my back was hurty and I didn’t finish until 3 AM, but I was in love and couldn’t believe I had to wait SIX MORE MONTHS for book four. It seemed like an eternity.

 

Book Four: Six months later. I’ve told this story before. I wasn’t allowed to read Goblet of Fire until I finished my summer homework. That was the worst week of my life, but the wait was worth it. I put on my jammies, popped open the recliner, and started reading about the Riddles. I loved (love) that first chapter so much that I would later plagiarize it. Twice. (Unintentionally . . . sorry, Jo.) I believe this was also the book I timed myself while reading with an actual stop watch. I even paused it for pee-breaks and lunch and stuff. (Eight hours and thirteen minutes, if you’re interested . . . I wrote it on a post-it and stuck it in my book. The post-it is still there.)

 

Book Five: Summer 2003, and my first midnight release party. I almost vomited from excitement on the car-ride home. I also almost hit a garbage can because I was sneaking a peek at the first page instead of watching the road. Soon enough, Harry was under the bushes at 4 Privet Drive, and Ashley was in her recliner being so very happy. I stayed up as late as I could, then woke up at 7 AM to finish. I believe it took me 11 hours and some change. I may or may not have thrown the book onto the floor at some point, punctuating my violent gesture with a “BITCH!”, aimed at Dolores Umbridge. No fictional character has ever made me as mad, before or since.

 

Book Six: Summer 2006. For the first time, my sister and I were reading together. She’d just caught up on the series the year before, and had never participated in Potter madness. We were both living in a tiny apartment with our parents, who’d sold our big house months before, and we were sharing a trundle bed (she had the top, I had the bottom). We drove home like crazy people from the midnight release party, bounced into our trundle beds and then stayed up as late as we could, bleary-eyed and giddy. I think I made it to 3 AM, and she conked out around two. The next morning, I beat her to it, so I basically had a two hour head start on her. As we were reading, she kept getting mad at me because I couldn’t keep my trap shut. Every time something sad or funny or whatever happened, I would make a noise and she would be all ASHLEY SHUT UP and I was like BUT I CAN’T. I don’t exactly remember how we handled that whole Dumbledore dying thing. It probably wasn’t pretty.

Book Seven: After working a ten hour shift from hell at the Barnes & Noble midnight release party in Tucson, which involved waiting for all the Potterheads to clear out, and then closing the store, all the employees got to finally purchase their copies. This was around 2 AM, already, so by the time I got home, I could only read one chapter before passing out. I read the whole next day, until it was time to go see the fifth HP film, which I’d stupidly promised to go see with a friend, even though I’d already seen it at midnight the week before, and even though I hadn’t finished the book. I was so overcome by anxiety about this that I took the book with me to the movies and hugged it the entire time. I finally finished my last first Potter read around 11 PM. I was completely and utterly drained from crying so much. I was incoherently emotional. God, I miss that.

So the bad part about this is that I said goodbye to Harry Potter a long time ago. I know that a lot of people are feeling emotional about the end of the Potter era, but for me, that was four years ago, the moment I finished that last sentence: “All was well.” It’s funny because I was reading an Alias recap over on the AV Club today, and in it Ryan McGee started talking about this magic box that JJ Abrams owns and has been obsessed with since he was a kid. He calls it Tannen’s Magic Mystery Box. To quote McGee, “It’s a box that he bought with his grandfather as a child, and yet has never opened. To him, it’s not only a piece of nostalgia, but also something that represents, in his own words, ‘infinite possibility.’” As long as he doesn’t open that box, it could contain anything. It might contain everything, and as long as it remains unopened, in his imagination, it does contain everything. That’s what opening a Harry Potter book was like for me: “infinite possibility,” and that’s exactly what I feel like I’m losing every time I remember that it’s over. There are other stories, other universes of possibility, but there will never be another Harry Potter.

Gretchen Alice

Jim Dale serenaded us through many a roadtrip when we were children. My mom, kid brother, and I had all read the first four books and my dad practically knew them as well as we did, given how much we incessantly talked about the stories. The audiobooks, however, were a new way of approaching the story, a different angle for pulling it apart. (Not to mention that Jim Dale’s Hermione threw me into fits of giggles.) One trip took us to a new crop of outlet stores, maybe by Gallup or Santa Fe. The details of the shopping trip are hazy, but I clearly recall one dusty thatch of road where we listened to Chapter Ten from Sorcerer’s Stone–Halloween. In previous readings I loved this section because it’s where Hermione becomes a part of the group and even though I always knew that it would happen, I was relieved because Harry and Ron so clearly needed her. (She needed them, too.) Mr. Dales’ foreign tone kept me enthralled and got me thinking about friendship. So often formed out of disaster or need, our true friendships  will last us even if we’re dealing with things that make it hard for us to function as normal wizards, witches, or muggles. Not only did I want to be that kind of friend, but I wanted to make those kinds of friends, too. And, well, if that meant battling trolls together in the girls’ loo, then so be it. After all, “There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.”