Watched episodes one and two of “Heated Rivalry.”
Rewatched episodes one and two of “Heated Rivalry” on a loop.
Started a comprehensive glute routine.
Attempted to get everyone I know into “Heated Rivalry,” including my 88-year-old neighbor, who has not watched television since the 1970s.
Sent texts to friends with the fervor of a smitten teenager: OMGGGG I HAVE OFFICIALLY LOST MY MIND, ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS “HEATED RIVALRLY,” I CANNOT WITH THOSE TWO, THEY ARE KILLING ME, IS HUDSON WILLIAMS’ MIDDLE NAME REALLY MILDRED??
Practiced the back arch.
Considered canceling my subscription to The New Yorker because, per Ilya Rozanov, “The New Yorker is boring.”
Decided to keep my subscription to The New Yorker out of respect for Shane Hollander’s dad, and their (boring) genes.
Watched episode three of “Heated Rivalry.”
Rewatched episodes one, two, three of “Heated Rivalry” on a loop.
Made a blueberry smoothie. Added an extra banana. Worth the hype.
Learned that Threads had become a “Heated Rivalry” cult. Joined the cult.
Inadvertently, and then very advertently, trained all my algorithms to give me only “Heated Rivalry” content 24/7.
Scheduled an emergency session with my therapist. Told her “Heated Rivalry” has cured my SAD, and filled her in on the plot thus far. When she inquired if I was sure this was what I wanted to spend our hour on, I assured her it was the only thing I was capable of talking about.
Patted myself on the back for participating in a cultural phenomenon in real time for once and wondered if this was the epitome of a zeitgeist moment. Googled “zeitgeist” to make sure.
Watched episode four of “Heated Rivalry.”
Rewatched episodes one, two, three, four of “Heated Rivalry” on a loop.
Blasted “All the Things She Said” by t.A.T.u until my neighbors stopped by to see if I was OK.
Made a tuna melt and cried a little. Remembered that I don’t like tuna. Ate it anyway.
Stocked my fridge with ginger ale and a good Russian vodka. Invited friends over to debate whether to name the drink “Hollanov” or “Shilya.”
Called my dad to talk about hockey. Specifically, the longstanding heated rivalry between Boston and Montreal. Impressed him by knowing what a hat trick was. Confused him when naming my two favorite players.
Unironically watched Hudson Williams, a 24-year-old actor with naturally flawless skin, delightfully demonstrate his five-minute nightly skincare routine for 20 minutes. Took notes.
Remembered I needed to buy a gift. Went shopping at stores out of my way to spend more time in the car listening to two real hockey podcasts recap “Heated Rivalry.”
Attended a function, taking frequent bathroom breaks to watch the constant influx of interviews with the two extremely charming leads of “Heated Rivalry” being extremely charming.
Watched episode five of “Heated Rivalry.”
Rewatched episodes one, two, three, four, five of “Heated Rivalry” on a loop.
Blasted “I’ll Believe in Anything” by Wolf Parade until my neighbors stopped by to see if I was OK.
Finally felt validated for being able to speak Russian. Called my mom to tell her how impressed I was with Connor Storrie’s heart-stopping Russian monologue in the tunnel. She asked, “Connor is friend?”
Changed my phone greeting to say: “Hi. This is Viktoria. I will never listen to your voicemail.”
Celebrated 1221 by posting “Happy 1221 to all who celebrate! IYKYK.” Googled “IYKYK” to make sure I know.
Watched the Boston vs. Montreal hockey game. Was shocked to discover the teams are not called the Raiders and the Metros. The logos also look very different. Loved that “All the Things She Said” played in the arena. Did not love the flagrant lack of kissing.
Took stock of how I was feeling with only one more episode of “Heated Rivalry” left. Determined that I was “OK. Not good. Probably bad.”
Overheard someone across the room at a party mention hockey, did the “Exorcist” head spin, raced over, and yelled: “ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ‘HEATED RIVALRLY’?” They were not. Rectified that immediately.
Packed for my parents’ house, pretending I was packing for The Cottage.
Counted down to midnight and watched episode six of “Heated Rivalry.”
Rewatched episodes one, two, three, four, five, six of “Heated Rivalry” on a loop.
Blasted “stupid Canadian wolf bird” calls on a nature app until my parents came down to see if I was OK.
Looked into eligibility requirements for Canadian citizenship.
Basked in the feelings of love, joy and community induced by “Heated Rivalry.” Reflected on the year BHR (before “Heated Rivalry”) and tried to remember the last time I was this energized and delighted. Imagined what it would be like once again to have non-”Heated Rivalry” thoughts, non-”Heated Rivalry” conversations, and see non-”Heated Rivalry” real-world news.
Googled “‘Heated Rivalry” season two when?”
Pressed play on episode one of “Heated Rivalry.”
Felt bad for “Stranger Things.”
Viktoria is a humor writer who has written for The New Yorker and McSweeney’s.
The post The diary of a casual, not-at-all-obsessed ‘Heated Rivalry’ fan appeared first on Los Angeles Times.
