Dear Buffy,

Hey B,

How's everything? 5 by 5? 5 by 4 and 1/4 inches? I think it's cool to just say your height when people ask you how it's going. A few days ago I did a show where the mic stand was really heavy and everyone commented on it. I went last and moved the mic stand out of the way with one hand very deftly. Someone was like, "wow, she's strong but so little." And without thinking I replied, "Yeah, I'm a vampire slayer." And the audience laughed!

I don't really think I'm strong enough to be considered a slayer so I'm not sure why that came out of my mouth. I don't identify as a slayer or a leader or a person with strength to stand up for others. I wish I was. Mostly I wish I was part of something, like the slayer line.

Remember when the first (as you!) was like: "Into every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will have the strength and skill to... There's that word again. What you are. How you'll die... alone. Where's your snappy comeback?"

That's how I feel lately: intrinsically alone by the definition of my being. 

Hope everything is totes peaches for you. 

love, Babs

Dear Buffy,

Dear Buffy,

The other day I had a panic attack in front of this guy I liked and he didn't run away, didn't judge me, nothing. I practically dropped to my knees and hyperventilated while shaking and almost crying and he still doesn't hate me. I feel like he saw me transform into a werewolf, or that he saw me get all bumpy forehead vampy, or black haired and veiny or something... Now that I think about it a lot of your friends witness each other at their most monstrous and they still love each other unconditionally. That's really beautiful, empowering, and hopeful. It reminds me of in Season six when you said to Spike, " I tried to kill my friends, my sister, last week and guess how much they hate me now? Zero. Zero much. So I'm thinking, sleeping with you... They'll deal." Despite crying in public, having panic attacks, going weeks without eating, being a semi-suicidal baby, being an asshole, I still have friends that love, respect, and care about me. And everyone is like that. Everyone has people in their lives that love them deeply despite their monstrosities. I'm a monster and my scoobies still love me.

It's gonna be okay,

Babs

Dear Buffy,

Hey B,

I feel a little overwhelmed lately with my life. I wish I was better at being a grown up and paying bills and doing laundry, and not summoning the forces of darkness. Weirdly, I know how easy all that shit is to do, I just would rather read comic books or write jokes or drink drinks. Adult life is so scary, but not as scary as a hell god induced apocolypse that theatens everything I know and love as well as humanity in general, so I have nothing to complain about, right?

I miss you, B. I've been feeling a little lonely and disconected lately. I am working really hard though, trying to get amazing at this comedy thing. I want to be a chosen one, but I understand that comedy isn't like slaying, people aren't chosen, they choose comedy for themselves. It isn't an innate power, it's something you might have a natural inclination towards but you have to be open to it, work at it, nurture it, and let it grow, more like witchcraft than slaying.

Miss you and Will. I need more girly type friends that are happy and strong and love me.

love, Babs

Dear Buffy,

Dear B,

I’m having a kinda great day, kinda terrible, you know, the vast complexities of the human condition. On the one hand, it’s been 22 days since I’ve purged, which is the longest I’ve gone since I was about 11. I feel really strong and healthy for breaking that record. And now every day is a new personal best! On the other hand, I’m still lonely, even more introverted, (if that’s possible. Damn, girl, if I get any more introverted than this I’m just gonna be inside out: cc: Warren.) And I’m still insecure if my friends like me.

I’m wearing Buffy shoes (high heeled black pleather boots) today but I lack Buffy posture, Buffy dance moves, Buffy sassiness, Buffy-ability-to-believe-in-myself-and-others. I guess I do believe in others, I just have problems believing that anyone could love me, that I could deserve kindness, that I’m selfless, loving, strong, or genuinely compassionate enough to deserve anything from my amazing friends.

Miss you, B, I miss all the scoobies…

Love, Babs

Dear Buffy,

Hey B,

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed lately. I guess I'm still sad about not getting that dream job. But I'll have more dream jobs opportunities every month that I can consistently mess up and fail to acquire. I guess I shouldn't complain about my vast varied ample chances to fail. However, I do envy your set path of destiny. You have a purpose in the world. You know where and how you fit in, how you can help. I thought that was me with comedy and writing, but I guess I was wrong. I wish I had a purpose or a destiny. I feel so lost now. I don't feel chosen for anything anymore. Maybe no one is really destined or chosen for gigs like slayers. Maybe no powers are innate and magickal. Maybe I can take up cheerleading.

I just was reading Fray and I couldn't help but worry about how alone she is. You're so lucky you have scoobies. I have been feeling a little isolated lately. (Maybe an affect of the depression, or maybe everyone is isolating themselves in this weather, or maybe I'm just starting to date someone new so I'm kinda withdrawn, or I dunno, just probably feeling rejected and distant b/c of the job thing still.)

I'm kinda lonely. I miss you, B. I wish you and Will were here.

Dear Buffy,

So, once again I failed to get a job I thought I was a good fit for. You have so much success in your career as a slayer, it's almost hard explaining what this is like to you. I fail and am rejected constantly for jobs and when it's something like a gig at a big comedy club, like sure I'm not the right fit for that, but this was a monologue joke based writing job that relied on smart one liner powers, one of my gifts, something I consider myself chosen for. And I didn't get it. I am the right kind of comedian for this, the right style and type, and I just didn't get something I was a good fit for because I'm not funny enough.

I think it's kind of like when you went to fight Caleb the first time and he beat you (and omg poor Xan, he never saw that coming! oh sorry pun unintended sorry I'll see myself out.) But it sucks because with Caleb you thought that was your calling, you thought you and your little slayer army would easily slaughter him, as per your destiny. And is that cocky? To have confidence in ONE ability, a superiority complex at one talent, and then to have that pulled out from under you like a magic carpet made of yucky snakes!

I guess I need to check my hubris, remember that I'm still a potential, not a slayer, and I need to stop expecting to do well at things. I thought I was working hard, but I guess I have "to work twice as hard to be half as good." (Amy about Willow.) I can't think of myself as a good writer yet, I have the potential but I'm not there yet. Maybe I never will be. And am I okay with that? Am I okay with not being chosen for anything, ever? Never being special?

I'm beating myself up a lot for it, feeling not funny, not good enough, comparing myself to other writers, crying a lot. And it's so hard. I feel like I suck at the one thing I want to be good at, the one thing that makes me feel like I belong.

I  don't feel chosen right now.

I think I need like a scythe.

love you, B
Barbara

Dear Buffy,

Hey B,

Sorry I haven't written in a while. Things have been so psycho killer cray cray. Lots of boy drama. I know; I should be strong and smart enough to not let anything with a guy affect who or what I am. I'm 26, an artist, a good friend, I help people, and I love very deeply all of my friends and family. I'm "...full of love. It burns brighter than the fire." Okay, well maybe that's part of the problem. I just watched the episode where the teenage boy had the magic love spell coat and it made everyone love him. I wanna get a coat like that only instead of making people love me maybe it would make comedy love me, or cats. I liked how you saved Dawn and said, "I wish I could just give him to you. You're scaring me so much. No boy is worth your life." You're such a good big sister!

Comedy's going okay. I'm sorta working hard, sorta going crazy, sorta getting funnier, sorta falling into a dark pit that was covered by leaves and twigs but it was a trap and now I'm inside and it's all dark but hey there's sammiches down here!

I have a friend who wants me to move to New York with him. I don't think I'm ready to be in a big city with a huge professional comedy scene full of great comics working really hard who are all hilarious and driven and unique and talented. Except I really want that. But I'm scared. I love Portland. I have scoobies here.

Miss you, B. Thanks for taking care of Anya. She needs you.

You're a sweet, wonderful, strong, loving, righteous, heroic, integrity filled, slayer.

love, Babs