![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Yesterday I downloaded it and pushed David into showing me how to burn it to a CD we could play in our DVD player (last one I did didn't work). So by 6.30 I had something I could watch, commercial free, on the TV and it freed David to go to soccer tomorrow. The champagne was chilling, it was a holiday Monday in Canada...so what do you think we did?
Yep. I wouldn't have cracked and watched it on the computer; this is the finale, I wanted epic and the computer screen isn't epic. The TV isn't huge but it's better than 17 inches. Once I had the capability to watch it on TV though, I was doomed.
And can I just say how nice it was not to be jarred from emotion into a commercial? I'll never forgive them for the bathroom scene in SR being interrupted by adverts. Sheesh. Way to kill the mood of tension and horror.
I'll post later but...I cried. Big time. I think I'd have cried if we had an hour of Andrew doing knock knock jokes, I was so worked up. Husband came over, took the champagne glass away from me, hugged me until I stopped and then - unusual for him - started it off again, fast forwarding so we could watch the last half again.
It was a moment and we shared it. Tonight I'll watch it again, alone. I'll cry again. This time I won't have to explain how it is that crying isn't necessarily bad. Poor men who can't do it without getting embarrassed. Crying is _good_ sometimes. Last night it was inevitable. It was the Last One Ever.
Yep. I wouldn't have cracked and watched it on the computer; this is the finale, I wanted epic and the computer screen isn't epic. The TV isn't huge but it's better than 17 inches. Once I had the capability to watch it on TV though, I was doomed.
And can I just say how nice it was not to be jarred from emotion into a commercial? I'll never forgive them for the bathroom scene in SR being interrupted by adverts. Sheesh. Way to kill the mood of tension and horror.
I'll post later but...I cried. Big time. I think I'd have cried if we had an hour of Andrew doing knock knock jokes, I was so worked up. Husband came over, took the champagne glass away from me, hugged me until I stopped and then - unusual for him - started it off again, fast forwarding so we could watch the last half again.
It was a moment and we shared it. Tonight I'll watch it again, alone. I'll cry again. This time I won't have to explain how it is that crying isn't necessarily bad. Poor men who can't do it without getting embarrassed. Crying is _good_ sometimes. Last night it was inevitable. It was the Last One Ever.