Buffy was always a Hero

I haven’t really written much about my all-time favorite Joss Whedon show ever lately.  Seriously, there’s been so many other things going on in both the world of television and real life that I haven’t given it much thought.

Well, other than the podcast I obsessively listen to.  Called the Watchercast.  Love it.  Check it out if you get a chance.

It’s funny, because their latest podcast episode on “Killed by Death” gave me the inspiration to post a little something that I just had an epiphany about.

Buffy has always been a hero.  Throughout the series there were lots of throw-away lines about the Calling and how you really don’t know until you know.  And as a contradiction, there were lines about how some Potentials (like Kendra and Kennedy) were trained from a very young age.

I think the second part of that makes more sense.  And the reason we don’t see it in Buffy (or Faith, when she shows up… Faith wasn’t trained at an early age either…) is because of American culture, within the Buffyverse. 

I’ve often wondered why Kennedy and Kendra were trained from such an early age, and the Slayer culture was ingrained in them early on, and why Buffy was seemingly overlooked.  At first, I thought it was because no one knew where to find her, or because she wasn’t Called until she was Called, but the fact of the matter is that Buffy had the Slayer itch since childhood, much like the other Slayers/Potentials.

In looking at an episode in the second season, Killed by Death, Buffy is attacked by a flu and sees a monster that kills children in a very gruesome way, and makes it look like the fever killed them.  Coincidentally, Buffy’s cousin Celia was killed by the same  fever in the same fashion.

During a flashback, Buffy and Celia are playing together, where Celia is the damsel in distress, and Buffy is  the superhero who comes to her rescue.  I think that scene alone is informational to the audience, even if Giles and the rest of the Scoobies are unaware of how the Calling REALLY works, that Buffy was born to be a Slayer.  She was born to save the world.

Looking further back (or forward, depending…) Buffy as a much younger little girl, but further along in the series… think back to the episode Weight of the World, where Buffy goes into a severe state of Catatonia and Willow has to do a mystical mindwalk with her.  Buffy’s baby sister, Dawn, is brought home from the hospital, and Buffy wants “to be the one to take care of her.” 

Buffy clearly was protective from the very beginning.  Her gut has always told her that she has a purpose, even though it sometimes gets cloudy.  She still has a purpose.

Thinking about it, I do wonder that even though Buffy had superhero/Slayer in here genes no matter what, why did she want to try so hard to be normal?  She didnt’ have an accident and get bitten by a radioactive spider.  Her parents didn’t die, and this wasn’t a revenge gig for her.  She wasn’t even born on another planet and meteored down to earth.

She was just a girl who was born to be a superhero and didn’t get her powers until she got them.

Just something to think about.

…I know sometimes it’s gonna rain

Baby, I know sometimes it’s gonna rain.  But, baby, can we make up now ’cause I can’t sleep through the pain…

I’ve hit a bit of a rough patch recently.  But I guess that was to be expected.  When you are constantly moving at such a fast pace, things eventually will start to deteriorate. 

I’m not saying things are deteriorating at all.  In fact, things are incredible.  But sometimes they just suck.  More so because I’m not that only one that’s moving at break-neck speeds.  And sometimes I feel like all I do is work.  Not just at work, but at home, and when I’m out. 

My current job titles as of right now:

• Tech Support – this is my REAL job, that they pay me REAL money for.  Don’t want to mess this one up.
• Blogger
• Personal Assistant
• Organizational Specialist
• Photographer
• Finance Specialist/Bookkeeper
• Buyer/Purchaser
• Equipment Manager
• Band Manager
• Human Google
• Interior Decorator
• Professional Chef
• Girlfriend/Fiance/Sex Goddess

I’m not complaining.  I love the work that I do.  I love being able to do everything and be good at everything I do.  I love my blog.  My blog is my sanctuary.  I come here to vent and prattle off about the things I care about.  But I love everything else, too.  I love being a personal assistant and photographer and band manager.  Mostly because this is the stuff I’m good at.  I’m good at dealing with high pressure situations.  Or situations that require rationality and practicality.  I’m good at remaining externally calm when things are not really all that calm.

But I don’t think anyone really understands how much I actually do.  My days are filled to the brim with ACTUAL work, and then I do everything else.  DAMN!  I’m freakin’ AMAZING!

But in telling you that I am nothing short of amazing, I am telling that in all the things I do, whether I have to or not, my favorite among them would be the last on my list.  And it’s not the girlfrined-part really.  It’s more the Chriso part that makes that part enjoyable.  Without the Chriso part, everything else would be meaningless. 

All the TV I watch, all the movies, all the photos I take… everything I do.  Would be meaningless.  Without Chriso.

Sometimes life gets hard, and sometimes we get busy.  And sometimes it starts raining.  But I know that without Chriso, I would never be able to make it through those rainy days.

I just hope he knows that.  Because if he doesn’t, I think I have more work to do.

Focus Groups as blog-fodder

I was invited to attend a focus group in Waltham last night.  My first ever, actually.  I’m sure the Internet is aware of what a focus group is.  You sit in a room, and view advertisements and then discuss them with the group, what you liked, what you didn’t.  What works, what makes no sense, etc.

And what type of focus group did I attend?  TV.  Seriously, could that have been a more perfect way to start?  I don’t think so.

ANYway.  I had no idea what to expect, and they don’t tell you beforehand what you’ll be viewing.  Although, I should have known from the qualifying phone interview from a few weeks ago.  They were awfully focused on Sci-fi stuff.  Lo and behold, we were viewing and discussing and judging a potential Sci-fi channel show.

So, I sat around for about 20 minutes before being called into the tiny room with the many chairs.  I actually had a pretty diverse group.  Well, maybe not REALLY diverse.  Apparently, we all watch reality TV.  But about half of the group was interested in cop dramas and forensic stories.   CSI and other similar shows.  While the other half was pretty buried in Sci-fi.  Think shows like Eureka and Heroes.  And there were some overlaps with reality tv with networks like the Discovery Channel and A&E.

Once all 10 of us were settled in, the moderator (his name might have been Jeff…or Jim.  Crap!  I’m bad with names) passed around print ads, and had us rate them from 1 to 10 which ones we liked best, which caught our attention, and which ones just made no sense.

Warehouse 13.

From the ads we saw, it looked very dramedy (part drama, part comedy).  In my personal opinion, it was very X-files meets the Office, but with supernatural objects.

I can’t say that I’m not interested in seeing the show.  And now that I’ve done some searches on Google, I’m quite surprised that I haven’t heard of this show before.  

And also, Sci-fi is planning on changing their name to SYFY.  

In a word?  Lame.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad evening.  I sat around and got to watch previews for a new show that I will probably check out.  After all, what kind of TV-obsessed girl would I be if I didn’t give it the 3-episode rule?

What I found a little annoying was that there were a few people in the room that seemed a little pretentious.  But then again, they probably thought the same about me.

My opinions weren’t based solely on the ads, but also on the basic way that television works from a writing standpoint.  How many episodes, where plots will end up, etc.  I think that might have been a turnoff for them.

Oh well.

I got my $75 for being there and giving my opinions, and got to go home.

Oh, and I had to pee the entire time.  

I know, I know.  TMI.

But it was fun.

Coming face to face with Mortality

There’s a lot to be said about realizing that you’re not going to live forever.  And life is shorter than you realize. 

Chriso is always talking about how you only get 70 years.  If you get more than that, you’re on borrowed time and you should make the most of it.

I tend to differ a little in my thinking.  I typically don’t like to think of things like the fact that I may only be alive for another 44 years.  Or the fact that I am not immortal.  And neither is he.  And neither are my parents or brothers.

And as much as I want to put negative thoughts out of my head, sometimes, they cannot be helped.

Yesterday… This whole week, in point of fact.  I have found myself face to face with mortality.  My own and that of those I love. 

My father

The man who had a hand in raising me.  The man for whom I have the utmost respect.  A man who is far wiser than most and has a wealth of knowledge that would put most to shame.

My dad.  My pops.  Popples.  Poppley-Pie.  The man of many names.  But he’s still just “Dad.”

Yesterday he had some chest pain, and a cramp in his arm.  He took those signs to mean he was having a stroke, or a heart attack.  And he ended up going to hospital for it.  He is fine now.  The doctors did an EKG and his heart looks fine, although, they did recommend that he see his Cardiologist.  But he’s fine.

My response to this news was not something I expected.  Certainly I cried, but that was not the unexpected part.  But while I was crying, I was trying to plan my escape route.  A way in which I would not have to go home to face reality.  A plan that involved me not stopping, but driving all night until I reached a destination unkown.  Because, somehow, if I didn’t go home, none of what was happening would be real.

I didn’t want to go home.  In my entire life, I have never NOT wanted to go home.  Not to avoid getting in trouble.  Not to avoid anything.  But this.

My mind raced through every possible scenario, and I kept coming back to the same thought.  I don’t know what I would do, or what I would have done if anything had happened.  Possibly, my life plans would have changed, because I wouldn’t have been able to leave my mom or brothers.  But even more than that.  I don’t know how I would be able to survive if things had been more serious.  If the outcome was drastically different, I don’t think I could have dealt with it.

And I’m a strong person.  There are a lot of things that are difficult, and life gets hard sometimes, but how we deal with those things is what makes us stronger individuals.  Those are the things that shape our character.  But the loss of a loved one, in my opinion, must be the most difficult thing any one person can go through and come out the other side a whole person.  If they CAN come out the other side.  Some people live in mourning and can never function normally after such trauma.

But there’s no way of knowing what type of person you’ll be.  Will you be  the type to live life as normal after trauma?  Or will you be the one who breaks down and life changes completely?

There’s no way of knowing.  There is no indicator.  There are no clues.  No matter how strong you are in dealing with everything else, there is no way of knowing how strong you’ll be.  There’s no way to tell how you’ll react.  And there’s no way to take control of the situation.

And I find all that immensely terrifying.  The loss of control.  The uncertainty.  And most of all, the pain of loss.

I love my parents.  I love my family.  I don’t tell them because I’m pretty sure they know.  But life sometimes prevents things from being said.  People get busy, and other things take precedence for awhile.  But they always know.  I always know.  And that’s huge.

There’s a lot to be said for coming face to face with your own mortality.  It really gives you perspective.  Makes you look at your life, and prioritize.  Life is shorter than anyone realizes.  And there is just so much to done.  There’s no sense in wasting what precious little time we DO have.