I’m waiting to watch Angel



Somehow, somewhere, at some point in my life, I became addicted to Angel- not just because David Boreanaz is a USDA Choice piece of man-meat, not just because Charisma Carpenter and Amy Acker make me crazy insane. There is a dearth of good Sci-Fi/Fantasy television programming, and Angel makes up for- no, it's the HOT chicks.

So, after a half hour of drumming my fingers while my roommate readied himself for the total experience that is Angel (including special guest star Eliza Dushku as Faith: HOT), we settled in to watch what promised to be the climax to the epic Angel/Angelus story arc. Even Alyson Hannigan was back as Willow, the HOT lesbian witch.

Let's discuss the “HOT lesbian witch” thing for a minute- and not just because that is something that I would enjoy seeing more of. I guess that I could say that I've known hot witches, hot lesbians, and lesbian witches, but rarely do all three coincide. Maybe that's what happens when you live near a hellmouth. Wait a minute, I don't know any vampires or slayers, either. I guess that's just what we will call “the hellmouth effect”.

So anyway, Willow swoops in, saves the day (but, sadly, does not have any American Pie moments), and then leaves with Faith in tow. I guess that four HOT, powerful, intelligent women were too much for Angel. Sonofa. It wasn't too much for me. I felt a little cheated by this episode, since it seemed to have too many extraneous flashback scenes and not enough ass-kicking. This particular mini story arc (the involvement of Faith) was full of wonderful hand-to-hand combat and witty rejoinder, but it ended in tepid Buffy-styled poo. I was expecting a big, climactic battle across mulitple dimensions and visions of reality, but Willow just magically busted the Giant Jar of Angel Soul and twitched her nose until Angel's soul popped back into his body. Terrific.

Oh yeah, spoilers.

I'm still in the “Angel is a good show, worthy of entertaining me” camp, but even good shows can let you down. Also, my friend Lisa correctly predicted the evilness of faux-Cordelia, and mentioned that good Cordelia would never wear something as ugly as at the end of the show - all black and fringey and just plain wrong. It was almost bad enough to make me forget that Charisma Carpenter is HOT.

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I like pooping

Well, okay. So, here I am at 4am, up with the laptop and HBO. “Punchline” is on, and again, it's another movie about one's career shaping one's existance. What do you do if you don't have an active career? I think that I was okay with all of it as long as I had cash flowing in and out, but all of a sudden there's no more give. I've stretched the cash as far as it will go, and now I'm gonna start selling plasma.

It helps, I think, that I didn't take up my father's awful habits like drinking and drugs. You can keep a few hundred bucks going a lot farther if you aren't snorting it up your nose.

I was almost working at the plasma place. I made it through two behavioral interviews, which were not quite as grueling as was promised to me by the friend who referred me. If you ever get the chance to be- uh- behaviorally interviewed - I highly recommend it. It's… fun.

So, after making it through two interviews and being promised a third (with the regional director), I suffered through insomnia until 7am. My vibrating alarm clock shook me into awakening and I jumped into the shower. The phone rang, and my friend informed me that I would not be interviewing with the regional director on that day.

I was offered the opportunity to interview for other, lesser positions, and I almost jumped into the fry vat with both feet. Ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to make the commitment. Who can promise two years of their life in the salt mines when salvation could be just around the corner?

My roommate said that he wouldn't be able to blog because he would spend hours worrying over every word. I've spent an hour on this. Sonofa.

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