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Son of Rambow  was a fantastic, fantastic movie. If you miss the 80s, you gotta see this one. Everyone should see Son of Rambow anyway because it’s a wonderful story, but plenty of 1980s clothes, hair, hobbies, and little things (scented erasers!) give a nice warm gloss to the film. Really good movies about art and creation are hard to come by. Son of Rambow is about narrative, art, film-making, creation of all sorts, and also friendship and family. That may sound cheesy, but the plot has a enough adolescent-boy grit and edge to keep things interesting.

In completely unlike fashion, Sex and the City was completely terrible. Now, if what people like about your show is that it is half an hour of very punchy dialogue and quick scenes and raunchiness and cynicism and things actually taking place and happening to people, then how can you have nothing happen for the first hour of the movie? And notice I said first hour, because there were multiple hours, which made the movie all that much worse.

My theory for why there were not Special Features on the DVD is that they didn’t cut anything out. Samantha’s dog? That bitch wasn’t even really supposed to be in the movie. Some camera guys just filmed her doggy humping for fun, so then the “writers” worked it in, all proud of coming out ahead of such a challenge, proud to have worked in such a storyline just so they could lead up to the “Pooch” joke at the end of the movie after SAMANTHA GAINS 15 POUNDS, which is the only great fall from anything in this story. And it’s only 15 pounds, which is not that tragic. I mean, really.

And the plot didn’t even make any sense. So, was it first the little Chinese girl’s fault that Big ditched Carrie? And, then it was Miranda’s fault? You’re asking me to buy the premise that Carrie would do the whole don’t see the groom the night before the wedding thing? You’re asking me to buy the premise that Big wouldn’t have had the balls to get to Carrie around, oh, maybe five in the morning of the day, instead of trying to hunt her down a couple of hours before? It just doesn’t make sense.

And then why in the world did FIVE MONTHS have to pass after the fact?–I can’t figure that one out except to imagine someone had the sadistic goal to accomplish the great filmic feat of making one hour feel like the actual five months. I felt like I had done work, like I had unpacked all those boxes in Carrie’s apartment and done all Charlotte’s running and Miranda’s barking.

Sex and the Citywould make the perfect Choose Your Own Adventure book. Want to see the aftermath of Charlotte pooping her pants? Turn to page eighty-five. Want to skip all the not-so-hot, slightly disturbing sex scenes? Do skip ahead. What to skip five months of minutae? OR, do you want to see, scene by scene, Carrie unpack all her shit? It’s up to YOU: Choose Your Own Adventure.


The Odyssey

29Oct08

Today was a particularly tough day on this odyssey, this journey of completing grad school. I needed to print the final copies of my thesis. My computer, since Windows Vista is such a cranky vengeful dictator, has decided my printer is now invisible. So, I had to get the file over to another computer and try and print from there. And then that computer auto-updated itself and restarted, interrupting the print job. And then it took about a year to open everything back up and print what I managed to print, which was only three random fragments of the final manuscript, and then I ran out of paper. Don’t ask my why I didn’t think printing five hundred pages was going to be a big deal. I was sure I had a couple of reams in the office closet; but as we can see, actually finding extra paper in the closet would not have been a matching episode in the progression of my day. Which item does not match this set? Oh, they all match => all are crappy. The existence of the paper would have been too CONVENIENT. Or NICE. Or LUCKY.

And then my desk light went out and the dead bulb was stuck in the lamp and I couldn’t make it budge. I had to give up, lest the glass shatter in my hand. So then it was dark, and I had to face the fact that I COULD NOT EVEN ACCOMPLISH SUCH A SMALL TASK AS CHANGING THE LIGHT BULB. And then I realized I should have mailed my application for an absentee ballot a while ago, but I didn’t because as we can see someone stole my concept of time within the last week.

At least comps are over. At least wasabi peas exist. At least it is not hot outside. At least Tide To-Go pens are awesome. At least there are new episodes of The Office….I better stop before I talk myself out of my writerly grad-school moodiness. This evening’s task remains: print three copies of said thesis, hopefully without any grand procession of error.


Last night, in scandalous fashion, we had breakfast for dinner, which is a low-effort way to please the kiddo while also making sure he gets some solid protein and nutrients from eggs. I made him scrambled eggs and waffles, and served some natural applesauce for good measure. Yes, there were no vegetables on his plate last night, dear lord. He consumed pounds of mushrooms and carrots in the previous week, so I don’t feel too guilty. Anyway, he likes to dip pieces of waffle in honey. We use honey because real maple syrup tastes too strong to him, and trying to find syrup without all sorts of crap in it is near impossible. As I’m trying to relieve a plastic honey-bear of the last bit of honey settled concave in his little upside down head, squeezing him to death, the honey comes out in little blops separated by huge farts of air. Solemnly and seriously, from across the table, Keegan says…

That is the sound my bottom makes sometimes.

 

Here are some more:

I want to be a policeman when I grow up. No, I want to be a fireman. Oh, [big sigh] I don’t know what I want to be. [You got time.]

That’s okay Mommy. Eric says underpants. [After I apologize for saying a bad word while driving.]

What are you wearing? [Workout clothes.]

Your earrings look like candy. [I was in an 80s mood.]

If you don’t know the names of the children in your class, you can put nametags on them. [Well, my students probably won't go for that.]

Slow down. You need to lean how to drive. [Said out the car window. Hmmm.]

I will be a super-hero. I’ll be able to get kittens out of trees without even calling the fire department, because I will have super-hero magic to be able to always make a ladder. I’ll be a hero who always has a ladder. So I won’t need to go and get one.

You are so old.


Free Magic!

07Oct08

Kelly Link has made Magic for Beginners, one of my most favorite books of the decade, available for free download. This is in celebration of her new collection, Pretty Monsters; feel free to send me a copy…


SUB-LIT is seeking submissions: fiction, poetry, non-fiction, and ART. Check out the magazine and the guidelines.


“What should we do?”

“Do you have a book you don’t want?”

“The Ikea catalog?”

“Wait! Don’t use the 2009. You can use the 2008. Here.”

And that was the end of the gigantic roach and the 2008 Ikea catalog; farewell, good friend.

————————————————————————

I’m returning from my hiatus. I haven’t been blogging lately because I have tendinitis in my hands…from typing. How freaking LAME is that? No, I didn’t tear my acl doing anything amazing, nor did I get scathed by a bullet while doing anything extra-amazing. I’ve been on a big dose of naproxen for a while so things seem to have eased up. I vowed not to do too much typing, but I just had to finish revising my novel or my head was going to explode over the fact that I only have TWO WEEKS and ONE DAY left until my comprehensive exams. Given this timeframe, I had to get that damn book out of my hair. So, I finished typing it. I would call it a failed novel. I love the characters and absolutely adore several of the chapters, but …I’m confident that next time around I’ll have a good go at it, a good go at a novel that actually has a PLOT. Heh. Anyway, there are many things I would like to write about right now–what? I shouldn’t be typing so much? This is true. Therefore, I’ll limit myself to replying to Stephanie, who tagged me with nineteen questions, and then I’ll get back to making my notecards for comps.

1. What are your nicknames? I don’t think I have any. Well, some folks probably call me a bitch, but that’s more like being called a name rather than having a name to be called by.

2. What is the first movie you bought in VHS or DVD? As a kid I remember a lot of taping from t.v.; I know I had Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland (the super awesomely-creepy version with Sammy). Both of those were the kind of recordings where you had to jump up and press pause on the VCR when a commercial came on to try and avoid taping it, and this was never accomplished 100%. 

The first VHS I bought for myself was in high school. I might have been 16. I joined a music video buying club, which I cannot remember the name of. It was sort of like Columbia House, but I received VHS in the mail. I suppose that is where some of my hard-earned money from working at the grand Target went. The only bands I can remember from those tapes are The Lemonheads and The Breeders. Remember the bowling ball?

3. What is your favorite scent? I like lavender. I also like authentic nag champa.

4. What one place have you visited that you can’t forget and want to go back to? Boston.

5. Do you trust easily? Trust has to do with my intuition. I may intuitively trust you upon meeting you. It’s that easy. But if there’s any unease, then no, trust will not come easily. I trust my gut.

6. Do you generally think before you act or act before you think? Think. sometimes for a very long time, which is not always a good thing. Sometimes expedience in action is wildly appropriate. Sometimes thinking for too long = putting up with b.s. for too long.

7. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days? Dear Horse Flies, Where the f— are you coming from and what do you want with my house? Please go away. You are huge and loud and your big buggy red eyes squick me out. Thanks!

8. Do you have a good body image? Do you mean image as in my imagination, or image as in the public perception? Who knows. I’m sure folks say things like that girl always wears that same dress, because that’s how I am. 

9. What is your favorite fruit? Clementines. Fresh cherries are good too.

10. What websites do you visit daily? Aw, let us not spill all our secrets.

11. What have you been addicted to lately? Fine-point sharpies, decaf Colombian coffee in the late afternoon, making lists.

12. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is? Edearing, creative, and amazingly hard-working.

13. What’s the last song that got stuck in your head? Nick Cave’s Bring it On.

14. What’s your favorite item of clothing? A black sleeveless v-neck dress with thick cream lace along the hem and the neckline.

15. Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy? I don’t know, the cereal might be good on top of ice cream, pre-soggy stage. As for the treats, I like them if they’re vegetarian, which they very rarely are.

16.? I’m mystified.

17. What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground. Pick it up, and then order in some Thai food and place an online order from Old Navy.

18. What items could you not do without during the day? I think I need my make-up, my coffee, and my computer, and things with which to make lists.

19. What should you be doing right now? Um, making more NOTE CARDS about ALL of the novels and short stories and things and things and things…..for comps in TWO WEEKS. Cough.

I am tagging EVERYONE, because the last step of this game is requiring more decisiveness than I have right now. Pretend you are in the exclusive eight.


That boy sure knows a lot about money. [After watching Brother Bear explain fractions to Sister Bear, on the Berenstein Bears, using quarters.]

I don’t think you’re a teacher because you wear dresses. No teachers wear dresses.

THAT is crazy. [Laughing after I told him I used to work at Target when I was a teenager. Target is probably one of his top ten favorite places in the world.]

We had to raise our hand for peanut butter or chocolate dip for our crackers and banana and I raised my hand for peanut butter, but they gave me CHOCOLATE. I didn’t want chocolate and I know they had more peanut butter. They had two whole jars. I saw them. And I didn’t eat the chocolate because it was spicy. [Oh, the injustice!]

MOMMY! Please help me sew a dress!! [Holding spools of thread, ribbon, beads, and scissors. Sorry to disapppoint you, kiddo.]

Why do grown up girls have these things? [Making circular motions at boob level with his hands.]

I want to be a Batman for Halloween…A Batman that punches.

I fell asleep and my boat hit a rock and water was leaking in, so then I let down my anchor and had to fix it.

Here, you give one of these to your Mommy, Daddy, or Nanny when they pick you up. [Pretend school.]

Mom! My booboo was better but now it’s not and now it has boogers coming out of it. [Loss of first big scab: Eck.]

Mom, look: I’m stuck in traffic. [Sitting completely still in the cardboard car we made.]


Revisions

13Sep08

Stephanie over at Natural/Artificial has had some awesome recent (09-09) posts about REVISIONS. We are talking about revising a novel here. I love reading about Stephanie’s experiences in being totally sleep deprived and busting her ass more than she ever has in her life, because I’ve known her for years and I’ve known myself for years, and I’m busting my ass more than I may have ever before also. Also, who wouldn’t want to look at pictures of Hot British Actors and Steph’s Adorable Doggies? I love her advice of creating a scent for your project; I will do that next time around. Send me suggestions for scents for a Contemporary Gothic Romance set on Nantucket. My advice to all writers on a manic spree: Take care of yourself enough so that you don’t get sick. I’ve been teaching an 8 a.m. class, taking one grad class, starting up various editing duties again, working to be a competent and pleasant and inspiring mommy, studying for comps which are in FIVE WEEKS, revising my novel which must be complete in FIVE WEEKS, and I get sick. FIVE WEEKS! F-I-V-E.

Of course, I could also be sick simply because the new semester has started and I’m spending much more time downtown, or I could be sick because my son returned to preschool at the beginning of the month, or I could be sick because I started going back to the gym. THERE ARE HUMAN SIZED PETRI DISHES EVERYWHERE, PEOPLE. Anyway, I will get over it. Because I have to.


As promised, here are some pictures from The Summit, a “boutique” hotel in Tupelo, Mississippi. There was an annual furniture mart in town which resulted in full-bookings at the more bland and predictable establishments such as the Holiday Inn Express. Anyway, we only stayed here for one quick night before driving into Little Rock. In Little Rock, we stayed at the Crown Plaza, which may have had the most comfortable beds and bedding I’ve ever encountered in a hotel. Keegan asked if he could please bring his bed home; regretfully, this was not a possibility, but I did bring home a couple of bottles of the complimentary lavender linen spray.

The red bathtub in Tupelo:

 

Notice this isn’t a jacuzzi of any sort, just a big old tub.

 

 

…just in case you want to watch tub activities from the bed there is a wall of glass. There is also a mirrored wall across from the bed, which I neglected to immortalize digitally.

 

 

Yes, that is a very large dining room table. Don’t you love the chandeliers? The bathroom in this room was also gigantic, but it had a plain white tub. I took the below photo while standing behind the “bar,” which did indeed have a sink, fridge, bar-top and stools, though it was about as modern as the red tub.

 

 

 

There was an abundance of not so great Elvis themed paintings.

 


As promised, Rocksploitation put on a rocking show at Limerick Junction last night. The occassion was a CD Release Party for Rocksploitation’s self-titled debut album. We only stayed for the first set, but it was a great show as usual. Stephanie rocks the drums. I sometimes can’t get over Adam’s voice. And Eric tears up the bass. And I abuse active verbs.

This 16 song compact disc brings the trio’s stripped down sound to your living room, where you can enjoy their take on the most easily imitated aspects of 1950’s rock and roll, Merseybeat, and garage rock in comfort and (depending on your living room) style. What’s more, it’s all done in just over 30 minutes, because Rocksploitation is the only rock and roll group that respects your busy lifestyle. All the other bands are just narcissists who only care about themselves, so don’t give them your money. The exceptions to this rule are of course, anyone we’ve played with, who’s helped us, or is thinking of helping us.

The band-mates of Rocksploitation are awesome folks and good friends of mine. That said, many people suck. College started a couple of weeks ago, and because of this fact there was an elevated level of douche-baggery going on among the population infiltrating the VA Highlands on this holiday Sunday. Before we even made it to the VA Highlands, we tried to stop for dinner at a restaurant in Emory Village, but then got back in our car and fled in horror.

We then stopped for dinner at Diesel. Our appetizer and my salad were tasty, and at first I wondered what was wrong with the Creative Loafing guy that gave such a salty and downright nasty review of Diesel’s food. However, our main dishes were truly sub-par. I can’t even go into all of it. But my Green Tomato Burger with a black bean pattie had neither a big juicy piece of fried green tomato, nor the spicy horseradish promised on the menu; the black bean pattie was not legally a pattie, but sort of slop. The black bean slop was tasty, but I’d wanted a burger, and particularly a slice of fried green tomato with some spicy horseradish on it. There were many other variations of burger I could have ordered if I did not want these two things. They didn’t even have Matt’s entree and just served him something else, which was quite ridiculous. If you’re going to be a bar with some food, then do that and simplify your menu so you can actually rise to the occassion. If you’re going to be a restaruant, then, well, I don’t know what you should do, but something. Now we know.

We saw some good friends at Limerick and listened to great music. But the crowds grew, and then it was time to go. It was time to go when I started wishing I had a fire extinguisher to spray people. Before we left I apologized to the woman sitting next to me at the bar for our departure. I’d been prepared to pretend I was her long lost friend, should any of the numerous bozos hassling her cross the line.

Coming Soon: Chronicles of my vacation to Arkansas and Louisiana, including, but not limited to, an unfortunate Elvis themed “boutique” hotel in Tupelo. I took pictures.