It's Thursday, Therefore It Must Be Supernatural!

You know that you have achieved a certain level of obsession when you are innocently asked the question, “Which season is your favorite?” and your reply is...

“It’s hard to narrow it down between Season One and Season Two because they each had such merit – Season One for it’s introductory value and Season Two for it’s emotional impact. I really liked what we had of Season Three, however, as of right now, even though we’ve only had 3 episodes, I’d have to say that Season Four is giving them all a run for their money in being my favorite.”

The true level of obsession is brought to light when the questioning individual looks at you with a puzzled expression and replies, “I was thinking more of the calendar seasons. You know … spring, summer, winter, and fall?”

Oh.

Ooops.

Of course, this is strictly a hypothetical conversation.

You know that … right?

It is definitely not a conversation that might have taken place a few days ago with a friend I had not seen for a while, as we were chatting after running into each other at a social engagement. Nope, definitely not. (Please don’t stand so close. I understand that a lightning strike can be fairly intense.)

Actually, I am one of those individuals who enjoys all four of the different seasons throughout the course of a year. Each one contains a beauty and a reason to be appreciated.

So, I reconsidered the hypothetical question and decided to rephrase my hypothetical response with my own little "Ode To The Seasons", so to speak.

Here goes:

I love the winter season!

The nights are long and dark, with cold winds blowing as I enjoy the warmth of a fireplace, the soft light of flickering candles, and the comfort of flannel jammies and wooly sweaters.

The leafless trees stand as twisting, shadowy shapes against the cloudy gray skies, sparking my imagination with haunting images.

The occasional snow falls softly, blanketing the landscape, blinding my eyes with glistening sparkles as the sun shines on it from a distance.

The sounds of the holidays spent joyously with family and friends, cause me to pause and give thanks for the blessing that I have received throughout the year.

The weeks pass by with a mingling of heartrending angst and breathtaking anticipation, as I endure and enjoy the winter season which brings dreaded weeks of hiatus, briefly broken by individual episodes designed to capture my attention and remind me that while I might have thought I knew what direction The Kripke was pointing me in, anything is possible and nothing is as it seems in the journey of the Winchesters.

I love the spring season!

The lengthening days filled with blustery winds as I enjoy opening the house, blowing out the stale air and replacing it with freshness throughout each room.
The slender leaves and buds on the ground and in the tree begin to grow, as I renew my love of gentle blossoms and soft leaves, their pastels blending and blurring like an impressionistic painting.

The rain that is alternately fierce and gentle, always followed by the sparkle crystal colors arching, alternately beats upon my roof and mists upon my face, but always ends up refreshing my soul with promises of renewal and growth and fantasy.

The sounds of children laughing and playing outside become the rhythm and musical background, serenading my lengthening evenings and weekends.

The weeks pass by with joy and hopefulness as each one brings a new episode continuing the saga of weaving the threads of storylines ever tighter, raising expectations and fears as the finale draws closer until it is released, leaving me to gasp in a mixture of delight and horror at the Winchester Boy’s situation and the knowledge that it will be months before the solution will even begin to commence.

I love the summer season!

The days are long and filled with blue skies and hot sun as my girlies revel in their freedom from the classroom and open themselves to the possibilities of learning from alternate and less traditional forms of teaching.

The bushes and grass deepen to a lush green and we begin our annual cycle of competition on how tall they can grow before I am able to trim and mow, taming them into submission for (hopefully) the coming week.

The heat and humidity continues to rise, causing me to pause and give continuing thanks for ceiling fans, light cotton tops, lemonade, barbeque grills, and icemakers as I attempt to remain cool as I go through the business of my daily routines.

The sounds of glittering fireworks bursting, hot classic music driving, laughing screams of children splashing in pools and sprinklers fill the air and bring a smile to my heart.

The weeks pass by both swiftly and slowly as free time is increasingly filled with diversions, tactics designed to distract and keep active a mind ever attempting to speculate on the plight of the Winchester Boys, knowing with dreaded expectancy that whatever ideas I could formulate will not come remotely close to the weaving of threads both old and new as The Kripke and his company begin writing and filming.

I love the fall season!

The autumn nights that begin to lengthen and the crisp feeling that is introduced into the air as I take pleasure in returning to routines of work and school, throwing a precautionary jacket in the car as I shuttle from activity to activity.

The bushes and trees turn shades of muted hues golden and bronze, of vivid shades crimson and scarlet, as I find my wardrobe turning from whites and pastels to the bolder jewels of greens and reds and blacks.

The shifting of lazy southern breezes to brisk northern winds begin to penetrate, bring frost to the harvest of corn and apples and pumpkins and the scent of soups and chili cooking in the crock pot and pies baking in the oven.

The sounds of music pervade the air as marching bands take the field, filling the stadium with the distinct harmonization of brass and woodwind instruments stepping in time to the beat of the drums, or, as choir members take their places on tiers of risers, filling the auditorium with a blending of voices high and low in a harmony seamless, as both band and choir fill my heart with pride for my girlies as they participate in the creation of the unique sounds that pervade my ears.

The weeks pass by as each Thursday becomes a beacon, lighting the way to another new episode, as each episode further entangles both my heart and my mind in the deftly woven storyline that intrigues and delights my imagination with a family saga of warmth, of love, of fierce desperation, and hope filled terror set in a back drop of suspense and horror brought to life by the talents of all involved – creator, writers, directors, producers, actors, and the multitude of crew members – creating a television program that is unlike any I have ever had the pleasure of viewing and making each season of the year something to which I look forward to with anticipation.

So, there you have it ... my "Ode to the Seasons". I suppose I should have added the disclaimer tag ... "Supernatural Style". That's what a good obsessive would have done, don't you think? :-)

Can the Mail Get Any Better?

Mail Call at my house is haphazard at best.

Most of the time, I tend to ignore the mailbox. Unless I know of the possibility of something arriving, I usually only check it once or twice a week. The bills inside aren't going anywhere and that is basically all that ever seems to arrive in that rectangular metal box.

Once upon a time, it gave the girlies a thrill to grab the key from the ring and run to see what was locked inside the metal box on the corner. Being small, it was necessary for me to follow behind to insure they were using the key in the correct box. After time, the need for my assistance disappeared and between the two of them, they would enjoy the unlocking, unloading and relocking of the little door.

Now, in their pre-teen years, it's generally a matter of who I can bribe to make the trek when I remember that it's been a couple of days and we might want to see what was inside. There could actually be a spectacular sale going on at the grocery store, another certificate for $200 off of my next car, a chance for an all expense paid trip to Branson is always my favorite (my parents live there and so I am able to enjoy an all expense paid trip a few times a year).

There's also the various and sundry catalogs urging me to purchase items or this will be the last catalog I receive - which I have put to the test and it doesn't work that way. I love it when a catalog company pouts - "We miss you and want you back. Take one item at 30% off." Yeah. Right. Felt that love!

Occasionally there is a card or a note that is personal. Those are the delights and joys and the reasons I check the metal box more than once a month. Those are the reasons for even having the box in the first place.

Then there is the moment when the Supernatural Obsessive opens her box and receives the best present a true Obsessive could wish to find tucked inside. Her very own copy of the very first Supernatural Magazine.

Oh. My. Dear. Goodness. Gracious!

Words simply fail to describe the richness, the goodness, the fullness of pleasure to be found within the covers of this publication. Here's a quote from The Kripke on the very first page:

"Supernatural is a freak. It's a mutt. It's a Frankenstein's Monster of pretty much everything I love - horror, comedy, urban legends, classic rock, Joseph Campbell, Route 66, Westerns - all stitched together inot one bloody, twitching package. One of the most gratifying things about making this show was learning there were others out there like me. I wasn't alone. There's a couple million people wh dig the same things. People who fancy a little gore in their coffee. People who take solice in stories, the real stories, the ones passed around the campfire for thousands of years. People who, above all, value family. If you're holding this magazine, chances are you're one of us, too. Welcome."

I have yet to explore and enjoy all that is included in this first magazine - interviews with Jensen and Jared, a wonderful piece with director Kim Manners, special effects info, features on so many things from the journey so far to the top 5 tacky motel rooms, as well as lore from the master himself - The Kripke. There is simply so much that I will be enraptured for days.

Seriously. I mean, what other magazine do you know that can delight everyone with a centerfold that pictures the third star of the show in all of her beautiful, shiny, black glory?

Some days it really does pay to stop by the metal box and look inside. This Supernatural Obsessive is already looking forward to January. According to page 65 of this first issue, the second issue contains an article "Like Father Like Sons" - Jeffrey Dean Morgan reflects on life as John Winchester ...

Yep. I might be waiting at the metal box on that day - no need to waste the postman's time putting it into the box. I'll just be there to snatch that one out of his hands!

It's Thursday, So It Must Be ... Thanksgiving!

I love Thanksgiving.

Like the little train - I think of Thankgiving as the "little holiday that could".

Squished between the candy and costumed filled Halloween and the commercialism that seems to have overtaken Christmas, there is this little time when families come together and we as a nation remember that it's okay to give thanks for all that we have.

I am truly blessed and so, today, I am taking a moment to give thanks.

I give thanks for my family. They are all here with me today ... spending the day, relaxing, eating, watching football (well, they're watching football - I'll be watching them) and simply enjoying snatches of conversations with them, getting reaquainted, catching up and having fun.

I give thanks that I am fortunate and blessed to live in a country where my thoughts and beliefs are my own. They are not dictated by others and, whether others agree or disagree, I am free to voice them.

I give thanks for my girlies who fill my life with joy and happiness, even in the midst of driving me insane and coating my hair with strands of gray.

I give thanks for my nursery babes who show me each week the miracle of God's creation by the mere fact of their lives. Angels on earth that we are blessed to share.

I give thanks for my friends, both live and virtual. The give and take, the sharing of thoughts, the laughter, the tears, the frustration and the joy of emotions are always so much better when shared with a friend.

I give thanks for the opportunity to write. The joy received in being able to put words to paper (computer) and feel the pride of expression is something old and yet still so new and fresh.

I give thanks for the health I have for it means that I am alive to enjoy each day I am blessed to live.

I give thanks for the work that I do that provides for the creature comforts I have become accustomed to - home, food, electricity, water, etc.

And, of course, it is Thursday, so I also give thanks for Supernatural - to The Kripke, Jensen, Jared and all the writers and crew that provide us with quality television. The fun and joy I receive each week, whether it is in watching the program or sharing my thoughts with my blog buddies, is also a blessing rare and cherished.

So, there it is ... my list of thanks.

Thank you for reading and sharing in this little room where my thoughts tend to ramble.

Elf-Insanity

I realize that it's not quite yet Thanksgiving ...

I understand that it's a bit early to send out Christmas greetings ...

However I stumbled upon something that I can't wait to share. This is that present that cannot be wrapped and it simply cannot wait.

For anyone who needs some Christmas cheer, I give you ...

The Kripke and his Three Elves

(may they forgive me)

It's Thursday, So It Must Be Supernatural

I changed my cell phone message.

It was time.

Or atleast, everyone seemed to think so. Something about the fact that my message referred to the fact that it was new and if I wasn't answering, it was because I wasn't used to it and couldn't find it. Since that message was over 6 months old, I was told that I couldn't blame the "newness factor" for not being able to answer my phone.

So, I changed it. This is what I changed it to:

"Hi, this is Cindy and I can't find the phone, or ... well, if it's Thursday night, I'll be honest, it's Supernatural's new season and I'm not even looking. So. Please leave me your name and number at the tone and I promise I will give you a call back, because I'd really like to talk to you. So. Thanks for calling and have a wonderful day - and - if it's Thursday night, turn on your TV to CW and watch Supernatural, it's an excellent show! Bye!"

Go ahead. You can laugh. I laugh too. It was a spontaneous change as I was driving down the road on a Thursday night, anticipating the new episode I was going to watch that evening. I'm also honest enough with myself to recognize my obsession. I don't mind. (We also don't need to discuss the number of times I used the word "so". It's my grammatical weakness. Atleast it's not "uh".)

Why am I sharing this? Believe me, it's not because I feel the need to share my insanity ... although, I guess I am. It's actually so you will understand when you hear about this call I had the other night with the Tulsa County Sheriff's Department.

I was actually on my cell phone the other night, talking with a friend and another call came in. Since the Caller ID said "Private", I chose not to interrupt my call but let the second caller fall to voice mail. After disconnecting with my friend, I found there was a voicemail message. So, I listened.

It was a message from a Deputy with the TCSD, letting me (the number he had called) know that he was trying to deliver a protective order, and I (the number he had called) was not at the place where I was to meet him.

Hmm. Since I wasn't working on any protective orders, nor could I fathom why anyone would serve one on me, I figured they had the wrong number. In situations like this, I feel it's the right thing to do, to call the person back and let them know that they had the wrong number. So I did. I called the TCSD number that he left and spoke with the Deputy. I explained the situation and that he had been given the incorrect number. We talked for a minute and then, as we prepared to say our farewells, he said:

"I know it's not Thursday night, but enjoy your show when it comes on."

I had to laugh. The Deputy laughed also. He told me that he always has to work on Thursday nights and had never seen it. I told him that the next time he has a free Thursday night, he really should try to see it and he said:

"I'll be off on Thanksgiving, so I'll be sure to check it out that night."

Oh yeah!!! Score one for cellphone message advertising.

I wonder if the show has a budget for that. Could someone get me The Kripke's number? I'll leave him a message and find out.

Meanwhile, it's Thursday night. There's a new episode. So ... you can call but I won't be answering ... enjoy the message!

Title Card Glee!

Can you see it? Isn't it awesome? I swear when it flashed on my screen, I literally jumped up and screamed with glee and delight. The title card has been changed and my theory has been proven! Can I get a woo and a hoo???



There is something so incredibly telling about the title shots that The Kripke has chosen for each season of this show.



During the summer, I did a Supernatural Summer Session blog at the TVGuide site about the two seasons of episode introductions. This is an excerpt of the ending of that blog:



Now it’s time to get ready for Season Three and here’s my question/theory …



Season One began with a flash of lightning. A strike that dealt a blow, the damage of which sent the Winchester men into the storm.



Season Two began with a rush of flaming fire. A fire from hell that chased them, pursued them, that rushed down upon the Winchester men burning them even as they battled it.



Will Season Three continue with the same rush of flaming fire or will it begin with something different, signifying that each season truly does have its own theme? Just a theory … something to consider … however, if the beginning flash of SUPERNATURAL is something other than lightning or fire, such as a rush of inky black smoke, just remember … you heard it here first.



So, it wasn't a rush of inky black smoke, it was a flash of a devil's trap before SUPERNATURAL flashes throught the inky black smoke complete with demonic tendrils and the hellfire red lighting up the center. It is the start of Season Three, and it is ominous and foreboding, just as the title card signifies. Samuel Colt's devil's trap was breached and there has been a legion of demons unleashed. A war has begun and the Winchester boys are right in the middle of it.

What does this intro shot mean, I have no idea yet. But I'm thrilled that there is a new theme to the season, that we are past the fire and into the war. And I can't wait to watch.

Fan Fiction Saves the Life of a Service Contractor

I believe I have previously mentioned that I have a really good imagination. When I watch a good movie or television program, I am sucked in, my heart and mind and emotions experiencing the same happiness, sorrow, excitement and angst of the characters I am watching. The same thing happens when I read a book or a story that is well written. Actually even more so, because my imagination will take hold of the written words and display a visual and audio feast in my brain.

So it was with interest that I encountered Supernatural fan fiction. A friend of mine wrote a story based on the characters of our favorite show and asked me to read it. She sent me the link to her story on www.fanfiction.net and I read it. I enjoyed it. It helped that I already knew the characters and I could once again allow my imagination to take hold and run the story as a visual episode in my head. It was also delightful because I knew the person who had written the story.

Then my curiosity got the better of me ... here is this website containing stories of the Winchesters - John, Dean and Sam. I thought to myself that this could be an easy way to pass some time, particularly when we were in a hiatus period. I could read the stories and allow my imagination to take me with it back to the Supernatural world. So I began clicking around the site and checked some of the other stories out.

And in the process, I learned a few things.

First ... not all fan fiction is created equal. I became immediately critical of grammer, spelling, and story telling. There are some that are really good and there are some that are ... well, not.

Second ... I found I couldn't read stories that join in with the current timeline. I just couldn't. If I geot sucked into the story and it played out in my imagination, it then became a part of the series in my brain. I couldn't flip a switch. Because if the writing was well done and my imagination visualized these characters I know so well, I would begin to believe that this story should be a part of the series. I didn't want that. I wanted to enjoy Eric Kripke's series as HE presented it, not as others tried to represent it.

So, with these two realizations, I decided to remove myself from reading fan fiction (with the exception of a few pieces written by some of my virtual friends) and to keep the series "Kripke Pure" in my brain.

Then I was encouraged to read a fan fic by a friend who understood my dilemma but thought that she had something I would truly enjoy. With a simple click and the sweetest of stories, I discovered what is called WeeChester fan fic. Stories written from fans imaginations about the time prior to the series, the time when Dean and Sammy Winchester were growing up with their father, the ex-marine hunter, traveling the back roads of America and learning about things that go bump in the night. These stories I can read and enjoy because they don't change what I see in my head as I watch the program that Kripke has created. There's still some that are really good and some that ... well, aren't. I can navigate around that. However, it is fun to think about how it all started for Dean and Sam and imagine their life on the road with BDW.

Now ... what exactly does all this have to do with a service contractor's life being saved, you ask?

Well, here's the thing. Friday morning I had some extra time before heading to work. Having not really been on the computer much during the previous week just for fun, I decided to check out the fan fic and see if there was anything short to start my day off with a WeeChester smile on my face. I came across one that I hadn't read before that was written by an author whose writing I enjoy. I brewed another mug of tea and took 30 minutes to just enjoy before heading into what turned out to be a rather hectic day. It was a precious story, set at a time when Dean was eleven and Sammy was not quite yet seven. A story of a father who makes mistakes but loves his boys with all his heart.

It was wonderful and I continued thinking about it as I drove to the office and began my work day which included a visit from a service contractor work man who has a tendency to absolutely make me crazy (not in a good way) with his condescending attitude. Plus the fact that where he had to work invaded my personal space but due to the work I was doing, I couldn't move somewhere else. After an hour of putting up with his proximity and his attitude and his ... well ... just being there ... I began having the most delightful dreams of how to put him out of my misery.

Have I mentioned my imagination? It's good in this area too.

Just as I was contemplating a particularly wicked thought of what to do with my calculator the strains of AC/DC's "Back in Black" come ringing out of his pocket instantly switching my imagination to visualize the Winchester's Impala driving up the road. Answering his phone I could hear the voice of his child's teacher telling him of a situation with his son ... his six year old son. (Did I mention the proximity of him invading my personal space? I wasn't eavesdropping ... I was sitting that close and his volume was that loud.) Having his child put on the phone and hearing his fatherly voice talk so calmly to a clearly sad and upset little boy, I sat there quietly remembering the wonderful story I read that morning.

Art and Life were imitating each other.

For in Art, the author had painted a picture in my mind of the John we all know - a man who drove us insane with his marine tactic attitude but ultimately charmed us with the obvious love he had for his sons and his desire to protect them.

For in Life, I dealt with a man whose condescension and invasion made me consider mahem upon him before he ultimately charmed me with the obvious love he had for his son and his desire to make everything alright for him.


*** If you're interested in the WeeChester story I so enjoyed you can read it HERE. ***

If It's Thursday, It Must Be Supernatural

Hi! I'm really glad you called and I'd really like to talk to you but evidently I can't get to the phone right now. Unless it's Thursday night between 8 & 9 pm and then, I'll be really honest, I'm not even trying to look for the phone. But if you will leave your name, number and a brief message at the sound of the beep, I will call you back just as soon as I can. Bye!!

Yep. That's my message on my home answering machine. There's a similar one on my cell phone.

Two years ago tonight began my journey down the road to becoming a Supernatural Obessive. It was a Tuesday, instead of Thursday, but the date was September 13th and I was so excited for this show to begin. It was one of few that fall season that had captured my imagination with the advance information. I knew that it was going to be good. Felt it in my bones, so to speak. I couldn't wait.

However, I had to. I had to rely on my trusty VCR to tape the show for which I would later come to ignore the outside world.

Because September 13th is also my girlies birthday and even my obsession does not trump that.

Of course, two years ago, it was simply a "new show" excitement. Taping it was just fine. I remember later that night, turning out the lights, curling up on the couch, rewinding the tape and pushing play. I watched the opening with Mary carrying little Dean into his baby brother Sam's room ...

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother."

For the next hour television was transformed for me as I was taken from the past of a loving family dealt a horrific terror to a present day pair of brothers beginning a journey that would weave a tapestry of family love and dysfunction, with laughter and tears, scary moments and tender encounters. Each following week I have continued to be amazed at the quality of writing, directing, storytelling and acting. These two young actors - Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki - surrounded by some of the best writers, directors & crew and led by the incomparable vision of Eric Kripke, have breathed the reality of life into their characters of Dean and Sam Winchester that astounds and delights me.

Tonight is Thursday night, two years later. For me that is Supernatural night. Even if the season premiere isn't for another three weeks. Tonight is a re-run of last season's intense, emotional, and incredible finale - All Hell Breaks Loose, Pt. 2. Will I be watching?

Heck yeah!

Will it be later, though?

Oh, yeah.

I may be a Supernatural Obsessive, but I'm no fool. Nothing trumps two girlies birthday.

Wardrobe Call ...

Jensen?

Jared! Hey, man … what’s up?

Uh … Where are you?


Down here in LA … Kripke gave me a few days off, though I'm not really sure why.

I think I know, man ... listen ...

Jared?

Uh … yeah ... hey, listen. They’re, uh, prepping for filming the next episode for Season 3.

Cool. Have you read the script yet? Have we got a good monster?

Ahem. No. I haven’t seen the script yet.

Man … what’s up then? You sound all creepy.

Well, it’s just that I found out a few things about the new ep … thought you should know before you got here.

Okay. Why am I suddenly nervous? Have we got a new writer that you think will suck with our characters?

No. No. This one’s written by Sera.

Alright then … sucky new director that's going to try and let you drive my car?

Nope. They’ve got it set for Kim to direct this one.

Alright … power script … power direction … what aren’t you telling me, Dude?

I just found out something from Wardrobe.

What? They’re not going to try another alternate universe and make Dean wear pink this time are they?

No … uh, actually … they’ve got you set to wear the red and gray checked flannel shirt.

AWWW Crap!!

I guess now you know why Kripke thought you needed some time off. They're fixing to put you through emotional hell again.

Yeah. Note to self …

Burn red and gray flannel shirt as soon as possible.

Seriously, Dude. Between Home ...





Shadow ...





and then the two parts of All Hell Breaks Loose ...




the thing is just too painful to wear. It ends up wearing me out.




Don’t worry, Dude … I got you covered … I’ll protect you. I'll keep you laughing.




Yeah, Jared, I know you will.

Wardrobe Assistance, Please ...

Attention Supernatural Wardrobe Department:

Even though, technically, he is your boss, it might be nice if someone could please offer some assistance to The Kripke in coordinating his clothing and his personal appearances in front of large audiences.

CW 2007 Winter Press Tour



San Diego Comic Con 2007

I'm sure he has other shirts and t-shirts he could wear.

How sure?

Pretty sure.