To say that I was crushed when Wesley died is kind of an understatement. I didn't watch an episode of Angel for five years after that. Even now, I still just have to pretend that it didn't happen, because it was utterly senseless - and not the kind of Jossian "senseless things happen" that I deal with and even embrace when other characters of his die. It just...there was no reason for it. That was not how Wesley's character arc should have ended, it served no purpose in the larger narrative, it was just there. Sigh.
And because this entry isn't long enough for the double cut text to actually hide the above spoiler, I am now including the video of Angel's dance sequence inside his head.
When I was two years old, and my parents wanted some time to themselves, or they needed to clean or cook or any other household task and not have a toddler underfoot, or my mom left for work in the morning and my dad came home from his night shift at the ammunition plant and needed a nap, they would put in Poltergeist. Then they could cook or clean or watch something else quietly in the other room, or my dad could sleep, and I would sit quietly for two hours.
My dad introduced me to science fiction. My mom taught me how to cook.
Growing up, I sometimes thought they were too strict, but I don't smoke or do drugs, I've never been arrested, I've never gotten a ticket, and I've never been drunk (although that has more to do with my remarkable alcohol constitution than anything else). Whatever they did worked, I guess.
When my plans to move to LA imploded, they let me move back in with them no questions asked. It was just the latest move in a lifetime of them supporting me anyway they could. I know that there's never a problem I can't bring to them, never anything I can't tell them, nothing I can't ask of them.