So when they gave me the laptop for work in France, I was told it was installed with a DVD player (true), so I went to FNAC to look for a DVD I could watch when I was otherwise unoccupied in Montpellier. I picked up Alias, season 2, remembering how my brother and his wife love the show, so I thought I should see what the buzz was about. Unfortunately (or fortunately) the DVD player didn't work. Why? Must have something to do with our 60-year-old IT guy Carles who never leaves the building (and who's actual knowledge of modern-day computer systems is completely suspect), and won't let anyone else touch his stuff except for poor Carlos 2 (affectionately known - but not by him - as "dos") who is only allowed to touch certain buttons and never ever make decisions for himself. It was Dos who told me I had a DVD player, but it must have been the Captain who sabotaged it! This is odd because he seemed to have acquired a particular affection for me, telling me that I was "no sólo buena, pero también buena" - meaning, I was not only good but HOT. I thought maybe this unreciprocated admiration would encourage him to change cologne and shower, but so far nuthin'. Oh, I am getting mean, so better to continue the story (which you will find out at the end has no point whatsoever). Soooo, to make a long, uninteresting story even more so, I couldn't watch the DVD for 3 months, it was sitting on the shelf staring at me, though I hardly gave it another thought except for "why did I shell out 30 Euro on Alias, when clearly Friends is the only show that matters!" Well, I got back to Spain 3 weeks ago, unpacked and found that fateful 6-disk pack. I pulled out disk 1, and stuck it into the DVD player hooked into the TV set. The last 3 weeks have been a blur of strange wigs, funny accents and ass-kicking suspense! Lisa, my roomie, and I have been hooked and discussing where we would fit into the CIA - I'm pretty good at remembering where I left my keys (most of the time) and Lisa thinks she's good at encouraging others, so maybe they need some key-remembering, uplifting CIA babes, both with 3+ languages under our belt ('course we'd have trouble with the fake Russian accents, but our Spanish is sure better than Ms. Bristow's). One night I think I watched 4 episodes in a row and had to try to think of some un-embarrassing reason why I was so tired at work the next day. All my dreams are of being chased and beat up. Wow, spy-life is tough. On Monday I finally watched the last episode of season 2, and Lisa and I will have to scrounge around FNAC to see if they have any more seasons. My spy days are not over yet!
One question: if Michael Vartan was born and raised in France, why is his French accent so bad? And to answer your question, yes, I do spend my work hours looking up the bios of actors from the series. I'm pretty sure that's why they gave us internet in the office, right? Right?
