My So-Called Life was even better than Dawson’s Creek. I will never ever understand why it was only on for one season. That was a freaking travesty. I miss it so bad my heart hurts.
Not that I saw it when it was on. In 1994-95, I was in college. With no TV, like now. Except unlike now, I didn’t have a sexy iBook and a Netflix queue. So I’m watching the eps for the first time, after wanting to see them for so long. So what I miss in my heart are the seasons that were never created. I miss the story that never was, but absolutely should have been.
Here’s the thing. The dialogue is perfect. The acting is perfect. Even the narration is so awesome you want to kick yourself that you didn’t write it. Like how perfectly this captures what I like to call the Sunday Night Dread:
There’s something about Sunday night that really makes you want to kill yourself. Especially if you’ve just been totally made a fool of by the only person you’ll ever love and you have a geometry midterm on Monday which you still haven’t studied for, but you can’t because Brian Krakow has your textbook and you’re too embarrassed to even deal with it. And your little sister’s completely finished with her homework, which is just, like, so simple and mindless a child could do it. And that creepy 60 Minutes watch that sounds like your whole life ticking away.
Here’s some Jordan Catalano action for the fans. He looks so much like Tobey from When It Happens it makes me wonder…how could I have imagined a fictional character who was already imagined?