April 30th, 2008

Pretty boys


 Remember the second season of Buffy? When Angel suddenly became Angelus and we were all sitting around with our jaws hanging open, feeling stupid?  When every week Joss ratched up the tension and the show was so good and so angsty that it hurt (in a really good way) to watch?  When your were afraid to miss next week and half terrified what Joss was going to do next? (I really, really didn't need to know what my heart looked like when it was outside my chest.)

Supernatural is like that now. There are only three episodes left this season. Each one of them is shaping up to be more brutally/beautifully painful than the last one (Crystal, remember what a spoiler whore I was with Buffy and Angel?  "Tell me! No, don't tell me! What do you know? TELL ME!" I'm worse now.) I've reached that same state of anxious/excited/slightly nauseous/giddy that I was back then.  I'm sure, positive, that Dean's going to die and go to hell (I'm sure I read somewhere that Eric said that.) Until I'm convinced that Sam's going to find some way to nullify the deal and trade his life for Dean's soul. Unless Dean does something tragically heroic before anyone has a chance to save him. Or maybe Bobby will . . . and what about Ruby . . . and they'll have the Colt back (this is the part where Keri stick's her fingers in her ears and starts humming) . . . and . . . and . . . *hyperventilating*  and . . . why aren't you guys watching this with me? *glaring at Jenni and Crystal* (Except for Keri, who's still humming)

I was right about Buffy and Harry Potter and . . . Where's Clarissa? There must be someway I can blackmail her into it.

Did I mention it has pretty boys?  Really pretty boys that get hurt (and sometimes dead) a lot?