Buffy and Dexter

I remember watching the last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer 10 years ago, which ends with Buffy (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and her cronies barely escaping the implosion of Sunnydale. Standing on the other side of the crater that was her home, Dawn (Buffy's mystically created baby sister) asks, "What are going to do now?"

Buffy starts to smile, knowing that for the first time in friggin' forever, she doesn't have to be the one to know.

But I wanted to know!

"Buffy, for crying out loud, what the hell are we going to do now?!"

The void that was left after Buffy was bigger than the Sunnydale crater.

Angel eased the emptiness for a little bit, but it started getting weird between his whiny son and Cordelia's coma.

Veronica Mars gave a touch of Prozac to the void, but there wasn't enough camp or blood letting for my taste.

No, dears, it wasn't until a mild-mannered, Clark Kentish, boy-next-door serial killer came along that the heartstrings that had belonged to Buffy were pulled once more.

Darling, daring, dashing, dastardly, delicious Dexter!

For eight seasons, I have watched spellbound as Dexter chased down and killed killer after killer. For eight seasons, I have felt the complex tear that is caring for Dexter, really being on his side, but knowing he is a sociopathic killer, fixing for the next plunge of his knife.

When his wife, Rita, was murdered by John Lithgow's wondrous character The Trinity Killer, I was horrified, but to be honest, Rita was getting on my nerves. (This although she was a shout-out to Buffy and Angel fans, being the same actress who played the vamp who turned Angel and gave birth to his annoying son.)

Far better suited for Dex was the haunted Julia Stiles character, but nothing, nothing compared with the love match of Hannah McKay. Hannah the poisoner was a perfect "shidduch" for Dex the stabber.

There were Dex moments I could do without, like when Deb realized she was in love with her adopted big bro Dexter. I shouted out, "Ewwwwww!" from a very intellectual place. It's even creepy that the actors were married in real life.

And Elway. Yech, the only thing good about Dexter ending is that I won't have to watch annoying, skinny-ass Jake Elway anymore. This guy put the W in weasel.

Sunday night has become our favorite night, with my gf by my side who is now even more hooked on Dexter than I am. This week, bundled up in bed, we watched the very last Dexter.

I won't be a spoiler here, except to say this was a far better ending then The Sopranos. At least I didn't run to my TV to see if it was broken. OK, I get it! It's art! But not my kinda art!

It ended haunted and lonely and eerie and sad. When it was over, when the last precious moments faded into television past, I felt that familiar cavernous feeling in my solar plexus .

"What are we going to do now?!"

I have a full life. Between my catering company, my writing career, my painting career, my love life and the small social life I try to squeeze in when I have five minutes free, I don't have time to have a void! But honeys, at 5 a.m. after the last Dexter, I woke up with a darkness that I can only call mourning.

I was sitting emotional shiva!

Life without Dexter! It's like a birthday cake without candles!

So what are we going to do now?

Go for a walk, smell the air, hit the gym, make love, write a book, make a great satay sauce, catch up with friends and pray for a serial killer, vampire slayer with a heart full of puns and a fierce right hook one day soon.

Until then, there's always True Blood.