It’s Bonesday! [Guest Post]

by Lynn on June 20th, 2008

Wendy Young lives in Louisville, TN. She’s one of the fans Bones picked up during the strike hiatus, actually. She started watching on Hulu in early 2008 and quickly watched everything they had to offer, then bought the S1 and S2 DVD sets. The show completely hooked her and she’s seen every episode more than once. As for work, I she’s a Jill-of-all-trades at an engineering firm. Wendy writes her own blog, http://obsessedwithbones.blogspot.com/

Before I found Bones, which is relatively late compared to many of you, I had a LOST day and then a Heroes day, but nothing has provoked the same response as the words “It’s Bonesday!”

Right now, the week starts with Bonesday and I’m frankly a little sad that is changing this fall. Replacing the ‘Muhndays’ with Bonesdays makes that killer week-starter more bearable, even happy. ‘Humpday’ is already moderately happy and might resist being supplanted as it already overthrew Wednesday many moons ago. But I (really) digress…

Part of Bonesday fun is the Bonesnight rituals. For me it’s fairly simple. My ritual consists of my husband, me, and sometimes the cat, camped out on our bed. My husband usually lays down, wearily protecting any exposed body parts from devious kitty divebombs of teeth and fur as she displays her angst at the lack of attention. If she isn’t assaulting him she is likely laying between us (somewhat) patiently waiting for her due attention or frantically pushing her cold, wet nose into my exposed elbow demanding that attention she believes she deserves.

And what am I doing?

Ideally, I’m raptly enjoying every new Bones moment while I frantically jot down notes for the frighteningly long reviews for my blog. (If we want to go top-notch ideal we’d give me the human encyclopedia-esq memory so I could just enjoy the show and pop my deeeeeply insightful reviews up the same night but we’ll leave a dash of realism.) Here on Earth, I’m batting at the cat and trying to remember to be nice to my husband when he asks questions during the show. And if I happen to forget to scribble down a line or two because I’m laughing too much or too heartbroken to remember to move my hand, well…it can’t all be perfect.

What’s your Bonesday or Bonesnight ritual? Do you lock yourself in a room? Do you arrange a babysitter? Or are you forced to record it and fiercely hope and pray that no one will spoil it?

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