Buffy is the show I love with my heart, Angel is the show I like with my head. It totally bites, how good that finale was, and I took little joy in it. Part of that had to do with how I was watching the ep, because someone who'll remain nameless and is no longer on my friends list decided that cut tags are not necessary, and that it's cool to put suggestive, spoilerish things in the very first line of a post so that you don't even have a speedbump when you're skimming--it's there, you've seen it, it's too late. Thanks. Thanks a lot. It's hard for me to watch a show, with expectation hanging over my head. It turned out that what actually happened was not quite what the post suggested, but it was close enough, and it distracted me all the way through the episode from stuff that would otherwise have knocked me flat with pleasure.
But I don't think that's the only thing that's got me in a funk. I wish I could feel as happy as everyone else. People's happiness makes me happy, in the way of I'll be over here against the wall getting drunk and smiling vaguely at your party even though I'm a big, miserable wet blanket. I wish I had the same confidence that Buffy is going to pull it all together. I wish I was a big Lilah fan. Yay, Lilah. Trendy. I wish I wasn't so resentful at this moment--a moment that will pass--that Angel's going to be going strong for two more years, overshadowing Buffy. The corpse of Buffy, the series. I'm looking forward to being excited next fall, because the universe will live on, and I like the show. And I want Buffy to end, actually, at this point. But I want it to end well. And I just feel very depressed tonight. I am not in the party groove.
But I see that wiseacress wrote S/X for me, which I'm going to go read now, and for that she is my kite string.
Oh, shut up.