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the_dala at 11:02pm on 04/02/2004
the_dala at 11:02pm on 04/02/2004Okay. Okay. Going to try and put myself together again.
It's a really weird thing that's just happened. I've watched "Chosen" only twice, once when it aired and once on tape during the summer. I didn't cry either time. But now, it's like all the emotional investment I put into that damn show for seven years, plys its months-ago demise, has suddenly hit me and I'm a total wreck.
This is stupid.
Yeah, must stop sobbing.
*minutes pass; I catch some "VH1 Goes Inside 'Survivor'" to sober me up; the sight of Jerri's ugly mug and the memory that it'll be on my TV in less than 24 hours does the trick*
Right. Better now. Posting about "Angel."
First of all, I really tried to watch it this season, despite missing everything last year (except for the Faith episodes) and the majority of the season before. And folks? The magic is gone. The writing sucks. The secondary characters are no longer interesting (and Fred didn't have a whole lot of interesting to lose). I didn't want Spike around any more. It wasn't that it was glaringly bad like "Buffy" tended to be S7; it was just incredibly boring. I'd get distracted by the TWoP "Smallville" forums and tune out most of the episode.
But tonight?
Cordelia. CORDELIA.
I'm not sorry I missed her whole Body Snatcher last season, and virtually everything to do with Connor, because it means the Cordelia that's freshest in my mind is the Cordelia of "Buffy" S1-3 and "Angel" S1-2. And wow, do I ever love that character. Always have, always will. Same way I used to love Willow and Xander and Oz and Giles (though not quite the same way I loved Buffy, because she was the hero and the main character, and that's a whole different love). But more on that whole 'nother topic later.
Charisma Carpenter looked absolutely fabulous. I mean, she's just a beautiful woman, and her delivery's always perfect, and god, she just owns that role in a way that Amy Acker has never done (of course I know they're different roles, but since they're the female leads they get compared). She even made me like Wesley again. And Angel -- the two actors have such a great chemistry.
So, yeah, I was already freaking out with joy before anything ever happened. Whatever the hell Lindsey and Eve had been cooking up went right over my head because I haven't been watching, but I wouldn't have been paying attention anyway because Christian Kane? Is all kinds of hot. The hair, the muscles, the tattoos, the sexy smoky voice...::shivers:: Yeah, my Lindsey-crush was rekindled, especially since he was evil again.
Anyway, I wasn't too into whatever was going on; I was just thrilled to be spending time with these characters again. I did notice that there was a minimum of Spike, which was nice. Only thing I would comment on is that funny little Look Fred was giving Wes as he was doing the spell -- what the hell was up with that? She was looking at him all moony.
Oh! I almost forgot. What really started the waterworks was Cordelia watching Doyle's old commercial. Beautiful, subtle little touch.
I pretty much kept crying throughout the rest, but I was downright bawling at the end. The kiss, admittedly, didn't have much in the way of sparks, but I was far beyond minding. And then...I really had no idea that they were going to kill her. I was totally unspoiled, and I'm notoriously easy to fool (read: dumb) about predicting anything no matter how many hints are dropped. Even when Angel said "No, she's right here --" and turned around to see Cordelia gone, I was thinking, "Hmm, wonder where the PTB have sent her to?"
Yeah, I really am that dumb, GPA notwithstanding.
So there I am, sobbing like a broken record, because this one hour of television has brought up so many complicated memories and emotions. Maybe it is really pathetic to get so worked up about a TV show, but you know what? "Buffy" was something that was with me all through my adolescence. We're talking seven formative years here, people, from the beginning of middle school to my senior year in high school. A lot changed in that period of time, but the Scoobies, they were on every Tuesday for six, seven months straight. I'm not saying they were like invisible friends or anything, but it was definitely a world I could escape to, as much as my favorite books and the music I can't live without. It's a lot like trying to explain the emotions that run through me when I listen to "Thunder Road" or "The Loadout/Stay;" I can't do it. I don't have the words, only the feelings with many names I can't pin down.
And now, now it's gone, right alone with everything else that's gone. And I can pretend that I've adjusted, but I haven't, not really. On some level this is still summer camp to me. I still hear somebody's door close and think it's Mom coming home late from work on a Tuesday night. I still lie on my left side and reach out, expecting to feel my desk right next to my bed. I still feel weird stretching out to watch TV and not sinking into the blue couch in the basement. I still turn around at a voice that sounds familiar, a hairstyle, a backpack, thinking it's one of my friends or even somebody I hated but saw every day for four years. I actually picked up the phone once and dialed half of Jessie's home number before I caught myself.
And it's so much easier to cry over fictional characters with their fictional problems than my own real life, my own problems, my own hurts. I don't talk about...things too often, or too well when I manage it. I stew. I hold grudges. I bottle. And I'm an only child, so I'm used to being on my own and I'm used to being my only companion , and it doesn't bother me.
Except, of course, when it does. Which would be now.
Uh...I think I'm done. I don't know if I made any sense, but I started writing and I couldn't stop.
I feel better.
I think.
Oh yeah, "Smallville" was on too, but I'm not really in the mood to think about it or discuss it, and it wasn't that remarkable to begin with.
I'll be home in...'bout forty-two hours. And I'll be asleep for like sixteen of those, so they don't count. That makes it twenty-six hours, which is scarcely more than a day. Excellent.
And I'll get to see the girls!!! Or half of them -- Lauren and Allison. Half of Larissa's kids, and half of the girls (the other two being Mary and Sarah).
Time to get my Jon Stewart on.
It's a really weird thing that's just happened. I've watched "Chosen" only twice, once when it aired and once on tape during the summer. I didn't cry either time. But now, it's like all the emotional investment I put into that damn show for seven years, plys its months-ago demise, has suddenly hit me and I'm a total wreck.
This is stupid.
Yeah, must stop sobbing.
*minutes pass; I catch some "VH1 Goes Inside 'Survivor'" to sober me up; the sight of Jerri's ugly mug and the memory that it'll be on my TV in less than 24 hours does the trick*
Right. Better now. Posting about "Angel."
First of all, I really tried to watch it this season, despite missing everything last year (except for the Faith episodes) and the majority of the season before. And folks? The magic is gone. The writing sucks. The secondary characters are no longer interesting (and Fred didn't have a whole lot of interesting to lose). I didn't want Spike around any more. It wasn't that it was glaringly bad like "Buffy" tended to be S7; it was just incredibly boring. I'd get distracted by the TWoP "Smallville" forums and tune out most of the episode.
But tonight?
Cordelia. CORDELIA.
I'm not sorry I missed her whole Body Snatcher last season, and virtually everything to do with Connor, because it means the Cordelia that's freshest in my mind is the Cordelia of "Buffy" S1-3 and "Angel" S1-2. And wow, do I ever love that character. Always have, always will. Same way I used to love Willow and Xander and Oz and Giles (though not quite the same way I loved Buffy, because she was the hero and the main character, and that's a whole different love). But more on that whole 'nother topic later.
Charisma Carpenter looked absolutely fabulous. I mean, she's just a beautiful woman, and her delivery's always perfect, and god, she just owns that role in a way that Amy Acker has never done (of course I know they're different roles, but since they're the female leads they get compared). She even made me like Wesley again. And Angel -- the two actors have such a great chemistry.
So, yeah, I was already freaking out with joy before anything ever happened. Whatever the hell Lindsey and Eve had been cooking up went right over my head because I haven't been watching, but I wouldn't have been paying attention anyway because Christian Kane? Is all kinds of hot. The hair, the muscles, the tattoos, the sexy smoky voice...::shivers:: Yeah, my Lindsey-crush was rekindled, especially since he was evil again.
Anyway, I wasn't too into whatever was going on; I was just thrilled to be spending time with these characters again. I did notice that there was a minimum of Spike, which was nice. Only thing I would comment on is that funny little Look Fred was giving Wes as he was doing the spell -- what the hell was up with that? She was looking at him all moony.
Oh! I almost forgot. What really started the waterworks was Cordelia watching Doyle's old commercial. Beautiful, subtle little touch.
I pretty much kept crying throughout the rest, but I was downright bawling at the end. The kiss, admittedly, didn't have much in the way of sparks, but I was far beyond minding. And then...I really had no idea that they were going to kill her. I was totally unspoiled, and I'm notoriously easy to fool (read: dumb) about predicting anything no matter how many hints are dropped. Even when Angel said "No, she's right here --" and turned around to see Cordelia gone, I was thinking, "Hmm, wonder where the PTB have sent her to?"
Yeah, I really am that dumb, GPA notwithstanding.
So there I am, sobbing like a broken record, because this one hour of television has brought up so many complicated memories and emotions. Maybe it is really pathetic to get so worked up about a TV show, but you know what? "Buffy" was something that was with me all through my adolescence. We're talking seven formative years here, people, from the beginning of middle school to my senior year in high school. A lot changed in that period of time, but the Scoobies, they were on every Tuesday for six, seven months straight. I'm not saying they were like invisible friends or anything, but it was definitely a world I could escape to, as much as my favorite books and the music I can't live without. It's a lot like trying to explain the emotions that run through me when I listen to "Thunder Road" or "The Loadout/Stay;" I can't do it. I don't have the words, only the feelings with many names I can't pin down.
And now, now it's gone, right alone with everything else that's gone. And I can pretend that I've adjusted, but I haven't, not really. On some level this is still summer camp to me. I still hear somebody's door close and think it's Mom coming home late from work on a Tuesday night. I still lie on my left side and reach out, expecting to feel my desk right next to my bed. I still feel weird stretching out to watch TV and not sinking into the blue couch in the basement. I still turn around at a voice that sounds familiar, a hairstyle, a backpack, thinking it's one of my friends or even somebody I hated but saw every day for four years. I actually picked up the phone once and dialed half of Jessie's home number before I caught myself.
And it's so much easier to cry over fictional characters with their fictional problems than my own real life, my own problems, my own hurts. I don't talk about...things too often, or too well when I manage it. I stew. I hold grudges. I bottle. And I'm an only child, so I'm used to being on my own and I'm used to being my only companion , and it doesn't bother me.
Except, of course, when it does. Which would be now.
Uh...I think I'm done. I don't know if I made any sense, but I started writing and I couldn't stop.
I feel better.
I think.
Oh yeah, "Smallville" was on too, but I'm not really in the mood to think about it or discuss it, and it wasn't that remarkable to begin with.
I'll be home in...'bout forty-two hours. And I'll be asleep for like sixteen of those, so they don't count. That makes it twenty-six hours, which is scarcely more than a day. Excellent.
And I'll get to see the girls!!! Or half of them -- Lauren and Allison. Half of Larissa's kids, and half of the girls (the other two being Mary and Sarah).
Time to get my Jon Stewart on.
weird