Boldly going back to my life

I have a confession.  Sometime last year, my illustrious partner started watching a few Star Trek episodes online.  He doesn't watch old shows in any particular order, but eventually he (sometimes joined by me) knocked out both The Next Generation and Voyager.  However, unlike me, he generally saved this supreme nerdiness for sick days, rainy days, and the like. 

Not me.  No, no, no, no, no.  When I bite a bullet, I want to taste powder.  So I set about watching the entire Voyager series, in order.  All seven seasons, 26 episodes each.  That's some big number my little head can't compute.  But then I switched to Deep Space Nine, with its huge story arcs and that whole being a seven-year long allegory thing.  The boy abandoned me at that point.  This ridiculous feat was all mine.  Besides, I'd watched parts of both series on my mom's couch while I was in high school (mostly before I got involved with the artist formerly known as Bunny).

And this past weekend, I finished it.  Good finally conquered evil, and there was even an exceedingly awkward farewell montage.  (Sadly, this montage did not include any hot lesbian make-out sessions.)  

Now I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a burning desire to go watch The Next Generation from start to finish.  But, no, it's time to stop.  I've spent too much time on Memory Alpha researching bits of nuance about cultures and technologies that don't actually exist.  I'm ridiculously fascinated by Borg, and that has to stop.  I think.  

Anyway, look for more blogging, more socializing, more world saving, etc., now that I've successfully completed this mission of exploration and defense of liberal enlightenment. 

Just don't forget the prime directive.