Buffy's Diary
January 21, 1998 - Part 1

Timeline: Buffy's sevententh birthday

Happy Birthday, me!

I feel better this morning. Giles really didnít seem to think it was wig time, but he listened to me, which always makes me feel better. Keep alert, but donít panic.

But I wish Iíd done follow-up on Drucilla. Note to self: donít forget to follow up. If I knew she was ashes this would be a whole different deal. As it is, I got this strong impulse to go hunt her last night and it was like a really bad itch, I didnít sleep that well. But, no dreams. No dreams is a good thing, one of my favorites...except if theyíre Angel dreams. Too bad you canít rent dreams like videos and just push play when you turn out the lights. But then, nobody would ever get up.

Iím seventeen.

Iím still alive.

In Slayer terms, maybe thatís like being thirty. Maybe Slayer years are sort of like dog years. Except, I really am seventeen. And, eww.

But I WANT to get to be thirty someday. I want that, and I want my driverís licence, and I want Angel. Well, not exactly in that order. But I canít seem to think about the future the way other people do, like some kids whoíve got everything planned out, graduate college at twenty-one, marry at twenty-five, have first-born at twenty-seven, retire at fifty. Iíve heard kids talking like that. Actually, it doesnít sound that comforting, it sounds really confining. Living day by day is an exercise in keeping your cool, but at least your life belongs to YOU, instead of to everybody elseís ideas. And it teaches you spontaneity. Angel lives with that, too. He totally understands it, like nobody else.

And if I get off on an Angel track I will never get to school.

Seventeen is an important time to re-evaluate personal maturity.

I wonder if Mom would buy that one?

(Entry made after breakfast)

Wigging accomplishes nothing. But once youíve seen instant replay of dreams itís SO hard not to freak! I need to talk to Giles NOW, I wish I could go Drucilla now. That would solve all of my problems of the moment. Well, except that Mom seems to think that Iím not sane enough to turn a key and steer. Whatever.

It was just a plate.

Dreams arenít prophesies.


(Entry made just after supper)

OK...being sane Buffy now. Meeting with Giles in one hour. Sheís wouldnít move during the day anyway, and Angelís probably just getting up, so heís safe, Iím sure. Heís probably just getting into the shower.

Thatís a nice visual.

We need a game plan. Iím on the edge of freaking. I need a plan. I should finish my homework, so I donít have to think about it later. If she was dead I could think better. If she is alive it isnít for long, I have an agenda. Iím sure Giles wonít mind if thatís part of the plan.

I wonder what Angel got me for my birthday?

Homework, do homework now.