Sometimes excessively. Sorry about that.
I am depressed and pissed off.
And the more I think about it, the more I understand why. It's not just because I think David B. is gorgeous. I mean, duh.
It's the show. Always the show. The unique way it has been written and produced for four and a half years.
From the first season when Doyle was killed, I was snared. I mean, who kills off a major player in the first season? In the fucking beginning of the first season? From that moment on, I knew that this was a show where anything could happen. At any time. It was not going to be just another pretty boy/pretty girl drivelathon.
There was going to be pain. There was going to be angst. There was going to be truth.
Over the years, it has become the only show I've stuck with, the only show I made plans to watch. And tho~ there were some story archs that left me scratching my head and wondering "huh?" I was inspired and thrilled with every new season.
It's a show that I can watch with my kids. And we can understand and love and talk about the characters. Because they are struggling with the uncertainty of life just like we are. Because they are struggling with morality and friendship and trust issues just like we do every day.
Who wants more formula bullshit? Who cares who's voted off the island/out of the house/eats the next slimey live bug next?
The only good thing about this, is that it has made me sit down and realize that in just the few short months I've been here on lj, how much I am amazed and consistently awed by the people on my flist. And on their flist.
You guys are the best. And if Angel and the boys are just left to us?
Well, they couldn't be in better hands.