RECAPS | Bones: Why I’m Doing This

This summer for reasons not entirely unrelated to boredom, excessive consumption of ice cream, and a yearning to return to simpler times, times featuring perhaps David Boreanaz, I watched all of Fox’s Hit drama, ‘Bones.’

this is what the inside of my heart looks like. Also, my weddings portraits. SORRY FUTURE HUSBAND AS OF YET UNKNOWN TO ME.

Let’s revisit that statement. I watched. All. Of. Bones.

It began as a simple enough experiment: How long can I listen to Emily Deschanel act before my ears start bleeding?

It turns out I have not yet reached that pivotal marker and in the process, I have fallen truly, madly, deeply (do) in love with this program. I knoooow, right? I get a ridiculous amount of crap from people for this, one of many dirty pop culture secrets I harbor. “Becca,” they say, crossing their arms smugly, “I wonder what’s going to happen on Bones this week? Do you think they will find some Bones maybe?” And friends it is with humility that I reply, “FUCK YES THEY WILL! AND THEY WILL RESEARCH THE HELL OUTTA THOSE BONES TO FIND OUT WHAT KILLED THIS PERSON AND PERHAPS LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT THEMSELVES IN THE PROCESS!”

I yell a lot.

There is something comforting about this formula for me. Each episode, Temperance Brennan, cracker jack autistic forensic anthropologist (totally a thing, I know!) and her rag-tag team of misfits and nerds at the Jeffersonian Insitute (like the Smithsonian but more Jeffersony.) collude with renagade FBI agent and former sniper Sealy Booth, direct descendent of John Wilkes Booth (hey fictional character! Your ancestor and my ancestors plotted to kill a president! Deep dark shameful secrets, hurray!) to solve all matter of murders in the DC/ Virginia area.

Man. This just occurred to me. Bones and The Vampire Diaries should TOTALLY do a cross-over episode! Think of all the Buffy Angel that would be made! Oh dear lord I just whizzed on myself!  I WOULD LOVE IT! EVERYONE MAKE THIS HAPPEN FOR ME PLEASE! INTERNET: DO NOT FAIL ME.

Toss into the mix Temperance and Booth’s obvious true-love-of-soul-and-loins-but-we-can’t-get-our-shit-together-to-make-that-happen-for-yearness and you’ve got me on your hook.

This show, in the immortal words of the sing-songwriter Ke$ha, is my drug. Only in this instance it’s not like, a stimulant. This show is like, a klonopin. Possibly horse tranquilizers.

I started the show to challenge myself to a duel of crap, I continued watching because I like studying formulas (oh my god nerdiest thing I have ever typed) and I really love checking out how they fall apart as the seasons go by, I fell in love with the show because of Deschanel and Boreanaz’s killer chemistry and will-they won’t-they schitck, and now….

I’m stuck watching it. Because these assholes are like family.

Every so often I find myself dropping Bonesisms. Like, someone says something long and vague and I blink and respond “I don’t know what that means.” I write a killer scene of a play I’m working on and I toss my fists up in the air, “KING OF THE LAB!” I catagorize the men I meet as being “A total Hodgins” or a “he wishes he was Sweets”. Women are equally damned and if you are an Angela or a Camille you are doubly so.

Embarrasingly, I want that sort of epic love story: I crave the Booth to my Brennan – the chemistry, the rappaport that is so natural in spite of being so different from the other, a shared passion, an appreciation of hand guns and Toyotas. I want that! I mean, like, if that ever works out for them – please god let it work out for them!

I won’t go back and start at episode one, because, I like you guys, and I want you to like me, but starting tomorrow I’ll introduce you to the cast and we’ll pick up with last week’s episode!