Let’s talk action-gals, shall we? Because there was a point in my life, when I thought that being Buffy or Sydney Bristow (Alias is my current pm comfort watch) would be so dang cool. I mean, they’re smart (even though Buffy always says she isn’t), they look great in all sorts of clothes, and they can kick serious butt.
Way more exciting than my life, right? I mean, I have never once had to construct a skirt out of dimestore wrapping paper or dye my hair in a grimey gas station restroom. And fighting vampires? (Or sleeping with vampires, for that matter?) Nope, hasn’t happened.
I used to think it would be fun to be them. To be the action queen, secure in the knowledge that I could kick butt and still be around to wise-crack at the end of the day. Because, as the heroine of my own story, I’d never end up getting nailed. Somehow, I’d always come out of it okay. (Picture Sarah Michelle Gellar’s enigmatic grin at the series finale of Buffy.)
But here’s the trouble: My life can’t handle any more excitement. Already my house is a three ring circus with the kids in the center ring, two destructo cats in the outer ring (we can’t keep anything glass on the table or the breakfast bar without risking sliced up feet when it comes crashing down), and a flood of laundry and dishes over there under the big spotlight. And, yeah, the dishes are always in the spotlight. That’s one of those circus acts that’s incredibly enduring. I’ve got kids to schlep and a mom to help and bills to pay and carpets to vacuum and yards to mow and groceries to buy, and if that’s not as challenging as breaking into the Kremlin I don’t know what is. Especially during the holidays–trying to navigate the baking aisle requires a grappling hook and more endurance than I have. And don’t even get me started about changing lightbulbs in the new house. Eight foot ceilings are nice and all that, but did they consider how to get to the fixtures when they built the place? Folks, balancing on a rickety Ikea barstool takes some serious skill.
Honestly, I don’t know where Sydney finds the energy to put on all those funky outfits; I’m doing good just getting showered and dressed by noon.
Thank goodness I’m a writer. I can go off and fight demons, kill bad guys and save the world all from the comfort of my office while wearing my sweats and drinking my coffee. I figure that’s a very good deal.
Who’s your favorite action-oriented television or movie character? Do you ever wish you had their life?