- Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Joss Whedon is a genius.)
- Firefly (Seriously, have you heard of Joss Whedon? Genius.)
- Alias (Uber. Cool.)
- Angel (Is there anything Joss cannot do?!)
- Every other good show out there (most of which DH has informed me are NOT ‘good’ shows but rather are bad shows aimed at teenagers – but he likes Borat, so I’m not listening to him) – including all shows written and produced by Joss Whedon – including Dollhouse, Lost, Moonlight (too shortly lived), Roswell, Star Trek (the original series)…getting the idea here? I kinda like sci-fi/espionage/mystery stuff…that’s kinda my fave…OK, throw in a little Office & Rock of Love/Charm School/other VH1 vehicles for flavor.
Something else you may have noticed is that I like shows with strong female leads. Given that, it should be obvious why I love Sydney Bristow. She’s awesomely tough. And not only is she TOTALLY gorgeous and always put together but she’s insanely smart, speaks a bazillion languages, and has the coolest job. Ever. And since DH and I have been watching so much Alias lately, to the point that I’ve been dreaming I’m Sydney Bristow, the topic of me being a spy has come up in many of our conversations. For example, a recent conversation went something like this:
Me: I could totally be a spy just like Sydney Bristow…in fact, there’s something I should probably tell you…
DH: NO! Don’t tell me – I don’t want to be killed because you’re delusional and think for one millisecond you could be a spy.
Me: And why exactly couldn’t I be a spy????? Are you saying I’m not smart enough?
DH: No, I’m saying you’d never survive the torture…you’d give up in the first few seconds and Sydney is always getting tortured for information. She’s had her teeth pulled, multiple electric shocks…you just wouldn’t be able to hold out, that’s all.
Me: I’m tough!
DH: Ummmm, no. You’re not.
Me: Give me an example!
DH: OK – let’s say you’re about to be tortured…
Me: Bring it on!
DH:…and so you’re being held in a room by yourself…
Me: Alone time is a good thing – it allows for introspection and personal development…
DH: And you’re naked.
Me: As long as I’m not being judged, that’s OK.
DH: And it’s really, really, really cold.
Me: Cold sucks <insert uncertain voice> – but I’d meditate my way through it….I bet….
DH: And now…for the first step in the torture process….we’re going to carry you into this meat locker and put you naked on this freezing cold metal table…it’s SOOOOOO COLD!!!!
Me: OK!!!! I’ll tell you what you want!!!!!
DH: And, that’s why you can’t be a secret spy.
Me: As long as they didn’t do the cold thing, I think I’d be OK…
DH: That’s all they’d do…because they’d know you’d hate it.
Me: Bad guys suck.
So, there you have it. I couldn’t be a spy because I’m a cold wimp. Other things besides the cold table we both agreed would push me right over the interrogation edge include:
- Someone putting their freezing cold hands or toes on my warm tummy.
- Making me drink a lot of frozen drinks to the point of brain freeze.
- Making me pick up ice with my wet hands.
- Forcing me to take a luke warm bath.
- Not letting me wear house shoes on the cold, wood floor – socks only. (JERKS!)
I could seriously write this list all day, but I’ll save you the torture. 😉 Suffice to say, I’m not spy material. C’est la vie…I’d look awful with orange hair anyway!