Hmmm... I think I have it. My synopsis will be a bloody mess when I get through with the changes, but yes, it can be done!
5/30/09
5/29/09
Bad History!
I've hit a significant snag in the draft of "Flawless," my WIP. Turns out, probably to no one's surprise, that South Africa was a highly unpleasant place in the 1880s. Much of what I thought could be finessed, well, can't be. Kimberley, the center of the Cape's diamond mining industry, was a hideous boil of a city, populated by megalomaniacal capitalists who believed that human life was cheap, expendable, and solely for the advancement of their own petty empires.
Now granted, such dichotomies between rich and poor existed throughout the British Empire. Take any happy, shiny Regency-set book, and there existed poverty, disease, and despair in the unseen stews of London. Conditions only worsened as one traveled out and beyond England's borders. But in Kimberley, it was all right there. There was no turning a blind eye to extreme suffering and negligent practices. Oh, and there was that whole racially-charged hatred which lead to apartheid. Not pretty.
I could have my hero and heroine charge in like a pair of righteous, avenging angels, but I do want a little bit of historical accuracy, at the very least. And the possibility of a viscount and an heiress possessing the wherewithal and tenacity to jump into the midst of an unfamiliar industry and make a fair go of it--well, it's unlikely. I've been having them go at this by themselves, when in truth, I need to have them play smarter, perhaps by hiring the right people.
So even though I'm loathe to lose my forward momentum, I have to stop working just for the sake of amassing a bigger word count. I'm taking this weekend to conclude my research, brainstorm options, and plan how to revise what I already have--approximately one third of a finished manuscript. Ideally, I'd like to find this new direction and complete the resulting revisions by the time we leave for Italy on June 10.
It's still a fantastic story in a great location, but I need balance. I want the history and I want the hotness. Right now, I have neither.
Now granted, such dichotomies between rich and poor existed throughout the British Empire. Take any happy, shiny Regency-set book, and there existed poverty, disease, and despair in the unseen stews of London. Conditions only worsened as one traveled out and beyond England's borders. But in Kimberley, it was all right there. There was no turning a blind eye to extreme suffering and negligent practices. Oh, and there was that whole racially-charged hatred which lead to apartheid. Not pretty.
I could have my hero and heroine charge in like a pair of righteous, avenging angels, but I do want a little bit of historical accuracy, at the very least. And the possibility of a viscount and an heiress possessing the wherewithal and tenacity to jump into the midst of an unfamiliar industry and make a fair go of it--well, it's unlikely. I've been having them go at this by themselves, when in truth, I need to have them play smarter, perhaps by hiring the right people.
So even though I'm loathe to lose my forward momentum, I have to stop working just for the sake of amassing a bigger word count. I'm taking this weekend to conclude my research, brainstorm options, and plan how to revise what I already have--approximately one third of a finished manuscript. Ideally, I'd like to find this new direction and complete the resulting revisions by the time we leave for Italy on June 10.
It's still a fantastic story in a great location, but I need balance. I want the history and I want the hotness. Right now, I have neither.
SYTYCD Auditions #3
Wow! So much talent this year, except for in Seattle! And so many returning dancers who've already proven that they have the talent and versatility to make it very far in Las Vegas week. Tapper Bianca was a favorite of mine from last year, and she's only improved since. Her hair is incredible. Asuka and Ricky, the Latin ballroom dancers who also returned, have grown as a couple and as performers. She has no ass but totally works it.
What was with the creepy brother and sister? Ew. The girl who had religious concerns--why even bother auditioning? And wow, the big dude en pointe! They found some choice weirdos. However, I was thoroughly entertained by the swing dancer, Calico, dancing with Adam Shankman. Great to see Joshua, Katee and the others from last season back again to have some fun. But Shanks needs to lay off the fake tanner.
Calico was 30 years old, whereas last year the age limit was 27. Hmmm...
Whoa, Nathan, that 17-yo. The matched expressions on Adam and Nigel's faces when he exited those pirouettes with such control--they were floored. You don't get compared to Travis and Danny without being marvelously talented. With so many great dancers this year, it's no wonder they decided to do back-to-back seasons. Maybe that explains the change to the age limit, opening up a larger pool of dancers.
Other standouts for me included Sammy, the popper with red dyed hair. He's personable, cheeky, different, and has incredible muscle control. If he can put that together with any sort of technical skills, he'll do well. Amanda, the girl whose dad had multiple sclerosis--she was smiling throughout her performance, which didn't fit the morose song "Breathe Me" by Sia. She has an incredible center and very good control, but her moves seemed showy and lacked emotional truth. Look! I can spin! I quite liked Kelsea, the quirky psycho Amy Winehouse-type from Seattle, but I wonder how she would've done in the New York auditions were the competition was so much tougher.
Oh, can we have Kuponoh please?? Rah rah for more Hawaiian guys! And I love the performance between Ariel and Philip--so cute. It had all the hallmarks of a potential train wreck, but they pulled it off beautifully. I'm curious whether his partnering work will make him a better contestant come Vegas week.
With some of the very poor additions, I see Nigel wavering, having to choose between putting people out of their misery and getting good footage for his program. But I'm sorry, good footage does not include that horrible dance off. Really embarrassing.
The ballerina who didn't go through is proof that technically excellent dancers are not necessarily right for this contest, although Nigel goofing on her was mean. I love Vegas week because it brings out those who have the right combination of personality and versatility. At these auditions, it's so hard to tell who will go the distance because they all seem so good right now.
The ones I'll be rooting for are: Priscilla (Latin contemp from Miami), Anna (brunette whose dad committed suicide), Cailtin (emotional blonde whose sister had already made it through), Gabi (the arthritic circus performer), Natalie (yay!), Bianca, and Asuka for the girls; Evan (Old Skool dancer/Nathan Fillion look-alike), Peter (tapper), Igor (blond Russian ballroom), Brandon (yay!), Philip, Sammy, and Kuponoh. But I'm always happy to see previously under-exposed personalities start shining through as the week gets tougher.
Who stands out for you?
Bummer that I'll be in Italy once the competition actually starts. But I'll be in Italy, so that offers some compensation!
What was with the creepy brother and sister? Ew. The girl who had religious concerns--why even bother auditioning? And wow, the big dude en pointe! They found some choice weirdos. However, I was thoroughly entertained by the swing dancer, Calico, dancing with Adam Shankman. Great to see Joshua, Katee and the others from last season back again to have some fun. But Shanks needs to lay off the fake tanner.
Calico was 30 years old, whereas last year the age limit was 27. Hmmm...
Whoa, Nathan, that 17-yo. The matched expressions on Adam and Nigel's faces when he exited those pirouettes with such control--they were floored. You don't get compared to Travis and Danny without being marvelously talented. With so many great dancers this year, it's no wonder they decided to do back-to-back seasons. Maybe that explains the change to the age limit, opening up a larger pool of dancers.
Other standouts for me included Sammy, the popper with red dyed hair. He's personable, cheeky, different, and has incredible muscle control. If he can put that together with any sort of technical skills, he'll do well. Amanda, the girl whose dad had multiple sclerosis--she was smiling throughout her performance, which didn't fit the morose song "Breathe Me" by Sia. She has an incredible center and very good control, but her moves seemed showy and lacked emotional truth. Look! I can spin! I quite liked Kelsea, the quirky psycho Amy Winehouse-type from Seattle, but I wonder how she would've done in the New York auditions were the competition was so much tougher.
Oh, can we have Kuponoh please?? Rah rah for more Hawaiian guys! And I love the performance between Ariel and Philip--so cute. It had all the hallmarks of a potential train wreck, but they pulled it off beautifully. I'm curious whether his partnering work will make him a better contestant come Vegas week.
With some of the very poor additions, I see Nigel wavering, having to choose between putting people out of their misery and getting good footage for his program. But I'm sorry, good footage does not include that horrible dance off. Really embarrassing.
The ballerina who didn't go through is proof that technically excellent dancers are not necessarily right for this contest, although Nigel goofing on her was mean. I love Vegas week because it brings out those who have the right combination of personality and versatility. At these auditions, it's so hard to tell who will go the distance because they all seem so good right now.
The ones I'll be rooting for are: Priscilla (Latin contemp from Miami), Anna (brunette whose dad committed suicide), Cailtin (emotional blonde whose sister had already made it through), Gabi (the arthritic circus performer), Natalie (yay!), Bianca, and Asuka for the girls; Evan (Old Skool dancer/Nathan Fillion look-alike), Peter (tapper), Igor (blond Russian ballroom), Brandon (yay!), Philip, Sammy, and Kuponoh. But I'm always happy to see previously under-exposed personalities start shining through as the week gets tougher.
Who stands out for you?
Bummer that I'll be in Italy once the competition actually starts. But I'll be in Italy, so that offers some compensation!
5/28/09
SYTYCD Auditions #2
Ilsa is back in school today. The same little nasty that made her throw up also stole Juliette's appetite, but they were back to normal this morning. Who knows?
Now for my "So You Think You Can Dance" recap. Cat was wearing the same white fluffy vest she wore in New York, like Juliette with a favorite accessory. I think part of her appeal is that she can deliver corny lines with a wry smile that says she knows they're corny. And if there's anything cuter than Cat, it's Cat peaking Spanish.
Is Tyce getting on anyone's nerves yet? It's gonna be a long season with his theatrics. He wears the most condescending expression, even when a dancer doesn't warrant it. I much prefer Mary's fixed, fake mask. She's always smiling, but it's never only when she's happy. I liked her comment to one of the girls that she'd obviously been dancing for Nigel alone, i.e. a straight dude. But what was up with all the freak shows in Miami? Get off the stage!
On to the dancers. Priscilla in Miami was adorable and reminds me of a self-aware Arassay. But part of Ara's charm was her lack of pretension. She was just herself and was amazing because of it. Self-aware performers can go one of two ways: they can be like Nico, who used his powers for good and won the whole shebang in Canada, or they can be like Talia, who eventually made my skin crawl as she won the whole shebang in Australia. No telling.
Romulo and Lauren, the salsa couple--I would've liked to see more footwork, but their tricks were amazing. Paris, little Miss Washington, was another self-aware ballerina, desperate to prove that ballet can be sexy. I hated her chin, but I especially hated the disapproval that crossed her face when Tyce wanted to see her do choreography. She'd expected to sail through with flying colors.
I was glad to see Alex Wong, if only briefly, because I'd like a successful male Asian dancer. The widow, Talia, was sex on a stick--like she'd stolen Penny's body but left half her boobs behind. It was clever for that African dancer, Geo, to keep his feather necklace on for the choreography round, as a reminder for the judges. Marico, the policeman, is just an optimistic and impressive human being, and I'm not above being moved by the football coach dad supporting his gangly dancer of his son. The girl who lost her dad to suicide, Anna, reminds me of Kherington in her body, movement, and beyond-her-years maturity.
What is with all the siblings this year? The Rat Pack guy, Evan, looks like a young Nathan Filion, and I was totally convinced his older brother was going to suck. Of the (good) twin sisters, the taller one never quite finished her moves, trying to match her sister in the synchronized chorey.
Glad they were able to do their own thing. And Caitlin, whose sister already went through from the Miami auditions, gave my second favorite audition so far, behind Natalie's from last week.
Good to see Lil' C again, and it looks like we get Mia Michaels and Adam Shankman tonight. So where is Dan Karaty??!! *sobs*
Now for my "So You Think You Can Dance" recap. Cat was wearing the same white fluffy vest she wore in New York, like Juliette with a favorite accessory. I think part of her appeal is that she can deliver corny lines with a wry smile that says she knows they're corny. And if there's anything cuter than Cat, it's Cat peaking Spanish.Is Tyce getting on anyone's nerves yet? It's gonna be a long season with his theatrics. He wears the most condescending expression, even when a dancer doesn't warrant it. I much prefer Mary's fixed, fake mask. She's always smiling, but it's never only when she's happy. I liked her comment to one of the girls that she'd obviously been dancing for Nigel alone, i.e. a straight dude. But what was up with all the freak shows in Miami? Get off the stage!
On to the dancers. Priscilla in Miami was adorable and reminds me of a self-aware Arassay. But part of Ara's charm was her lack of pretension. She was just herself and was amazing because of it. Self-aware performers can go one of two ways: they can be like Nico, who used his powers for good and won the whole shebang in Canada, or they can be like Talia, who eventually made my skin crawl as she won the whole shebang in Australia. No telling.
Romulo and Lauren, the salsa couple--I would've liked to see more footwork, but their tricks were amazing. Paris, little Miss Washington, was another self-aware ballerina, desperate to prove that ballet can be sexy. I hated her chin, but I especially hated the disapproval that crossed her face when Tyce wanted to see her do choreography. She'd expected to sail through with flying colors.
I was glad to see Alex Wong, if only briefly, because I'd like a successful male Asian dancer. The widow, Talia, was sex on a stick--like she'd stolen Penny's body but left half her boobs behind. It was clever for that African dancer, Geo, to keep his feather necklace on for the choreography round, as a reminder for the judges. Marico, the policeman, is just an optimistic and impressive human being, and I'm not above being moved by the football coach dad supporting his gangly dancer of his son. The girl who lost her dad to suicide, Anna, reminds me of Kherington in her body, movement, and beyond-her-years maturity.
What is with all the siblings this year? The Rat Pack guy, Evan, looks like a young Nathan Filion, and I was totally convinced his older brother was going to suck. Of the (good) twin sisters, the taller one never quite finished her moves, trying to match her sister in the synchronized chorey.
Glad they were able to do their own thing. And Caitlin, whose sister already went through from the Miami auditions, gave my second favorite audition so far, behind Natalie's from last week.Good to see Lil' C again, and it looks like we get Mia Michaels and Adam Shankman tonight. So where is Dan Karaty??!! *sobs*
5/27/09
Olive Problem Solved?
It turns out that craving olives can be a sign of iron deficiency. So can a craving for pickles. Guess what I bought yesterday for the first time in years? Pickles. I've been napping almost daily, completely worn out by the time I hit 3pm. I've also been drinking in excess of four cups of strong English tea daily (bad me! against the rules!). The tannins in tea sap iron.
Hmmmm. I think I've self-diagnosed my own iron deficiency. I have enough time to start supplements in time for the trip to Italy, or else I'll be a wasted wreck.
Hmmmm. I think I've self-diagnosed my own iron deficiency. I have enough time to start supplements in time for the trip to Italy, or else I'll be a wasted wreck.
Sick Ilsa
Ilsa, She of the Sensitive Tummy, has thrown up three times this morning. Keven has the car and it's raining, so I'm not going to make Ilsa walk to school and back just to drop off Juliette...and then to go pick her up. So we're home today. One of my 16 precious summer camp days lost to illness. Damn.
The weather is making me feel miserable too. I'm going to call it a loss, writing wise, and settle in for a day of reading my research books as the kids frolic listlessly--is that possible?--and watch endless dinosaur programs. Walking with Dinosaurs is three hours long! It's fantastic, like educational soma--again, is that possible?
Hey, so I've been eating tons of black olives. I'm totally addicted to them. Is there something wrong with me? Have I gone pica, like maybe there's something in olives that provides a nutrient my body is craving? Bizarre.
The weather is making me feel miserable too. I'm going to call it a loss, writing wise, and settle in for a day of reading my research books as the kids frolic listlessly--is that possible?--and watch endless dinosaur programs. Walking with Dinosaurs is three hours long! It's fantastic, like educational soma--again, is that possible?Hey, so I've been eating tons of black olives. I'm totally addicted to them. Is there something wrong with me? Have I gone pica, like maybe there's something in olives that provides a nutrient my body is craving? Bizarre.
5/26/09
Flawless Update
I haven't been keeping a very good blog record of how writing "Flawless" is proceeding, even though I've written more than 20,000 words since officially starting last Monday. Part of me doesn't want to because it feels like I'll jinx the project, but I know that in the months and years to come, I willwant at least a scant record of what I was thinking, what troubles I encountered, and what was charging me up about this particular story.
So, I've revealed that it takes place in South Africa, but particularly, it's set in Kimberley, Cape Colony, in the early part of 1882. My heroine is Vivienne, the bastard daughter of a dead tycoon, and the hero is Miles, her wastrel aristocrat of a husband. I've never done a story where the hero and heroine previously knew one another, which is making the balance between intimacy, awareness, and conflict tricky to manage.
Yesterday I hit a significant snag. I reached that point where every word sounds ridiculously contrived and trite. However, upon rereading the last two or three chapters this morning, I realized that the writing is fine--if in need of a serious polish, naturally--but that I seriously mismanaged the last three scenes. Wait! Conflict! Where did you go?!
I kept workingthis morning, even though I know most of what I wrote this past weekend will need to be altered, chopped, or redistributed. But I love that little thrill of rereading new material for the first time. With how fast I've been zipping along, I truly get the sense that someone else wrote these words. I don't recognize them. I don't remember having written them. And yet the characters ring true and make me want to continue, to help them reach their happy ending.
Because I'm not entirely certain how we'll be able to market this book for sale, I've reached the point where I'm writing it entirely for myself. This is how I want it to sound. This is how I want the scenery described and how I want the characters behave--although they're far more difficult to control than the landscape. Perhaps that's why I've been writing so quickly. The chains have been cast off. When I look out across the next year, I don't know what my career will hold, so all I can do is write this for my own satisfaction. Imagine that.
I know I'm being vague, but this entry is mostly for me. I'm feeling very confident and very superstitious about this project, which makes me clam up when it comes to discussing it in any detail. Soon, though. Maybe soon...
So, I've revealed that it takes place in South Africa, but particularly, it's set in Kimberley, Cape Colony, in the early part of 1882. My heroine is Vivienne, the bastard daughter of a dead tycoon, and the hero is Miles, her wastrel aristocrat of a husband. I've never done a story where the hero and heroine previously knew one another, which is making the balance between intimacy, awareness, and conflict tricky to manage.
Yesterday I hit a significant snag. I reached that point where every word sounds ridiculously contrived and trite. However, upon rereading the last two or three chapters this morning, I realized that the writing is fine--if in need of a serious polish, naturally--but that I seriously mismanaged the last three scenes. Wait! Conflict! Where did you go?!
I kept workingthis morning, even though I know most of what I wrote this past weekend will need to be altered, chopped, or redistributed. But I love that little thrill of rereading new material for the first time. With how fast I've been zipping along, I truly get the sense that someone else wrote these words. I don't recognize them. I don't remember having written them. And yet the characters ring true and make me want to continue, to help them reach their happy ending.
Because I'm not entirely certain how we'll be able to market this book for sale, I've reached the point where I'm writing it entirely for myself. This is how I want it to sound. This is how I want the scenery described and how I want the characters behave--although they're far more difficult to control than the landscape. Perhaps that's why I've been writing so quickly. The chains have been cast off. When I look out across the next year, I don't know what my career will hold, so all I can do is write this for my own satisfaction. Imagine that.
I know I'm being vague, but this entry is mostly for me. I'm feeling very confident and very superstitious about this project, which makes me clam up when it comes to discussing it in any detail. Soon, though. Maybe soon...
5/25/09
Terminator: Salvation (2009)
Christian Bale (John Connor), Sam Worthington (Marcus Wright), Anton Yelchin (Kyle Reese), Moon Bloodgood (Blair Williams)
Directed by McG (Charlie's Angels)
From IMDB: After Skynet has destroyed much of humanity in a nuclear holocaust, a group of survivors led by John Connor struggles to keep the machines from finishing the job.
Okay, I could become incredibly indignant and fangirly so as to pick apart the flaws in this movie's logic, plot issues, characterization, and general pissing around with Terminator lore. But I don't think I will--not to the extent it deserves. It deserves a disseration's worth a critique regarding all of these things, but I don't necessarily have the energy. My righteous indignation has worn off.
Let me tell you, instead, why The Terminator and, to a lesser extent, Terminator 2: Judgment Day captured my imagination as a young teenager. My fascination with Ellen Ripley of the Alien franchise was already in full blossom, so Sarah Connor fit into that strong female role model niche. As opposed to most heroines, who follow the heroine's journey to remedy daddy issues and transform beasts into lovers, Sarah Connor undertakes the hero's journey in its full masculine, ass-kicking glory. Her ordinary world is established (she is a waitress, has a roommate, and owns a pet iguana), and then she crosses the threshold, meet mentors, etc. There are very few female characters in all of the Western canon that follow the journey without regard to her gender.
This is ironic in that the significance of Sarah Connor is that she is the mother of the future. Her very value and her very threat stems from her femininity and ability to bear children, but the trials she endures in The Terminator take no notice of her sex. This is most forcefully illustrated in one of the final scenes when, in an attempt to rouse Kyle Reese, her lover, she shouts, "On your feet, soldier!" Then she hauls him up and drags him to safety. The turnabout of gender roles in that one scene was enough to power me through high school with a perhaps overinflated sense of equality, justice, and other people's appreciation for feminine strength.
Terminator 2, although it sported Linda Hamilton's amazing physique, shifted the focus away from Sarah Connor to her teenage delinquent son, John, and his friendly Terminator caretaker. She looked amazing and continued fighting the good fight for women characters everywhere, but Arnold Schwarzenegger's overwhelming star power and the higher budget popcorn aspect of the sequel limited her importance. John made many of the major decisions, and the Terminator made the ultimate sacrifice.
The shift continued in the third movie, which I haven't seen, because Sarah is reported dead because of cancer. All of her power is gone. Her only contribution, at that point, is in John's training, resilience, smarts, and leadership abilities. He is her legacy. Forget the fact that because the series continues at all, her sacrifices and attempts to alter the future were for naught; I don't fault the series because sequels demand story.
So here we are in 2009, 25 years after the original film. What of the female roles in this movie? There is the ostensibly smart, capable, and physically fit fighter pilot, Blair Williams, who, after being rescued from getting stuck in a tree, is then rescued from being raped, curls up with her protector for warmth, and proceeds to defy all logic in an attempt to save his life. The girliness of her role, not to mention the tight pants and pout, offended me on so many levels that I wanted her to die in vicious ways.
The only other female role of note was Bryce Dallas Howard as Kate Connor, the grown-up version of Claire Danes' character from T3. She is a pregnant nurse. This defines "mother of the future" in a very different way than I once took pride in with Sarah Connor. I loved Bryce in The Village, but she was so lacking in any screen presence that I actually didn't recognize her.
The stars of the show were three men: John Connor, a teenage Kyle Reese, and a new version of a Terminator named Marcus Wright. Hooray for progress and quality.
What's worse, John Connor is almost entirely emasculated by the aid he receives from this new Terminator. He seems glued to the floor when it comes to decision-making, not at all clever or capable. If Sarah Connor had a legacy, it was him--and he's none too impressive. Christian Bale shouted a lot and basically played his growly Batman role. Sam Worthington was wooden and the opposite of charismatic.
Only Anton Yelchin managed to save his scenes by gently channeling Michael Beihn.
The flaws in logic throughout the film--both in and of itself, and in relation to the overarching continuity--are too many to explain. I was able to put them aside for the first 45 minutes as some truly amazing set pieces unfolded. Had this been any other popcorn film, and if I hadn't just seen the absolutely amazing new Star Trek, I might have been able to forgive the plot holes and illogic in order to focus on what were truly amazing stunts, graphics, and goosebump-raising sound effects.
But I couldn't.
Funny, that. I guess I had more righteous indignation left in me than I thought.
Directed by McG (Charlie's Angels)
From IMDB: After Skynet has destroyed much of humanity in a nuclear holocaust, a group of survivors led by John Connor struggles to keep the machines from finishing the job.
Okay, I could become incredibly indignant and fangirly so as to pick apart the flaws in this movie's logic, plot issues, characterization, and general pissing around with Terminator lore. But I don't think I will--not to the extent it deserves. It deserves a disseration's worth a critique regarding all of these things, but I don't necessarily have the energy. My righteous indignation has worn off.
Let me tell you, instead, why The Terminator and, to a lesser extent, Terminator 2: Judgment Day captured my imagination as a young teenager. My fascination with Ellen Ripley of the Alien franchise was already in full blossom, so Sarah Connor fit into that strong female role model niche. As opposed to most heroines, who follow the heroine's journey to remedy daddy issues and transform beasts into lovers, Sarah Connor undertakes the hero's journey in its full masculine, ass-kicking glory. Her ordinary world is established (she is a waitress, has a roommate, and owns a pet iguana), and then she crosses the threshold, meet mentors, etc. There are very few female characters in all of the Western canon that follow the journey without regard to her gender.
This is ironic in that the significance of Sarah Connor is that she is the mother of the future. Her very value and her very threat stems from her femininity and ability to bear children, but the trials she endures in The Terminator take no notice of her sex. This is most forcefully illustrated in one of the final scenes when, in an attempt to rouse Kyle Reese, her lover, she shouts, "On your feet, soldier!" Then she hauls him up and drags him to safety. The turnabout of gender roles in that one scene was enough to power me through high school with a perhaps overinflated sense of equality, justice, and other people's appreciation for feminine strength.
Terminator 2, although it sported Linda Hamilton's amazing physique, shifted the focus away from Sarah Connor to her teenage delinquent son, John, and his friendly Terminator caretaker. She looked amazing and continued fighting the good fight for women characters everywhere, but Arnold Schwarzenegger's overwhelming star power and the higher budget popcorn aspect of the sequel limited her importance. John made many of the major decisions, and the Terminator made the ultimate sacrifice.The shift continued in the third movie, which I haven't seen, because Sarah is reported dead because of cancer. All of her power is gone. Her only contribution, at that point, is in John's training, resilience, smarts, and leadership abilities. He is her legacy. Forget the fact that because the series continues at all, her sacrifices and attempts to alter the future were for naught; I don't fault the series because sequels demand story.
So here we are in 2009, 25 years after the original film. What of the female roles in this movie? There is the ostensibly smart, capable, and physically fit fighter pilot, Blair Williams, who, after being rescued from getting stuck in a tree, is then rescued from being raped, curls up with her protector for warmth, and proceeds to defy all logic in an attempt to save his life. The girliness of her role, not to mention the tight pants and pout, offended me on so many levels that I wanted her to die in vicious ways.
The only other female role of note was Bryce Dallas Howard as Kate Connor, the grown-up version of Claire Danes' character from T3. She is a pregnant nurse. This defines "mother of the future" in a very different way than I once took pride in with Sarah Connor. I loved Bryce in The Village, but she was so lacking in any screen presence that I actually didn't recognize her.
The stars of the show were three men: John Connor, a teenage Kyle Reese, and a new version of a Terminator named Marcus Wright. Hooray for progress and quality.What's worse, John Connor is almost entirely emasculated by the aid he receives from this new Terminator. He seems glued to the floor when it comes to decision-making, not at all clever or capable. If Sarah Connor had a legacy, it was him--and he's none too impressive. Christian Bale shouted a lot and basically played his growly Batman role. Sam Worthington was wooden and the opposite of charismatic.
Only Anton Yelchin managed to save his scenes by gently channeling Michael Beihn. The flaws in logic throughout the film--both in and of itself, and in relation to the overarching continuity--are too many to explain. I was able to put them aside for the first 45 minutes as some truly amazing set pieces unfolded. Had this been any other popcorn film, and if I hadn't just seen the absolutely amazing new Star Trek, I might have been able to forgive the plot holes and illogic in order to focus on what were truly amazing stunts, graphics, and goosebump-raising sound effects.
But I couldn't.
Funny, that. I guess I had more righteous indignation left in me than I thought.
5/23/09
Best Week Ever, Part 4
OK, so I bought an updated copy of Dragon NaturallySpeaking to take oral dictation. That's why I'm probably not being as concise as I would've been had I been typing. So if you see odd typos, that's why. But this new version is remarkably more advanced than my last copy, as is my computer. I am appreciating it greatly.
After the amazing triumph that was Juliette's performance in the year-end program, she had to come back down to earth for their last day of school on Friday. It was a half day, mostly for the purposes of cleaning up, gathering possessions, and saying goodbye. It won't be too much of the goodbye for us because the girls will attend summer camp for four weeks this year.
But it was my birthday! After grabbing coffee and breakfast, I managed a paltry 1000 words, but that brought my week's total to 14,840, or roughly 66 pages. My agent sent "Flawless" to an editor who wanted to see the partial, and I told her that my success this week felt like I was drag racing. She replied that this gave her the mental picture of me blowing past other writers and giving them the finger. So that's been my work week. On top of the weather and all the good things that we've done, I've had an excellent week with regard to productivity too. My Super Sekrit Project is also going places, but more details on that later.
Anyway, when I couldn't stand working on my birthday anymore, I went home and talked to my parents, where together we watched the girls' performance video. My new computer makes it very easy to upload and edit footage, so hopefully we'll be taking more video in the near future. I went to pick up the girls, and then we headed to the toy store.
At the silent auction the night before, Keven bid on and won a gift certificate to the Downtown Toy Store. We decided to let the girls be=low the $50 on anything they wanted because they had done so well and worked so hard for the performance. They chose a Playmobile= dollhouse and a set of dinosaur ink stamps. Then we went to Kaiser's for my birthday lunch. I'm the only one in the family who really likes Kaiser's pizza, so I got to be selfish.
After playtime, a rest, a phone call from my brother, and my cake, we went to Karen & Rich's house. They had secured a babysitter for the night, and we picked up Josie on the way to the movie theater to see Terminator: Salvation (review to come). Following the film we headed to Rendezvous, an unassuming place along a street lined with many, many bars, but inside it is a no smoking Tiki bar known for its amazing drinks. Josie's husband Brad met us there, and we all enjoyed sampling their astounding drinks.
Insert goofy conversations here.
Also, if you're going to have a birthday, it's a good thing to hang out with five people are older than you. I highly recommend it. It's good for the soul. However, we did listen to "Evenflow" by Pearl Jam on the way to the bar, which I distinctly remember listening to in the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, which was 16 years ago. Thirty-three is not exactly old, but it does feel a little bit, well, spooky. I'm very much enjoying this part of my life right now, and I certainly don't like the idea of it speeding on past.
We returned home to find the babysitters had worked magic: all five of our girls were asleep. Keven and I went home to collect an overnight bag and left it with Karen & Rich with the promise to return for our children come morning.
Sweet. Their first sleepover. Juliette and Ilsa had been asking to do one for ages, so this was their chance, and we have plans for a repeat performance next week.
We returned in the morning, ate toast, drink tea, conversed, and generally let the girls run around the backyard for a few hours. An exceedingly nice experience. Oh, and Karen & Rich gave me a certificate to Mangia for my birthday present, and we ate more cake. After that, we said our goodbyes and made for the farmers market, which opened for the summer today. We scored bread and rhubarb and this delicious garlic cheese spread. The girls went back to playing with their new toys, I watched Thursday's episode of "So You Think You Can Dance" and took a nap, and then we went to the park where I started reading the last of Patricia Gaffney's Wickerley trilogy.
See what I mean? Everything this week has been perfect. I am healthy, happy, and exceedingly lucky. I know in many cultures that acknowledging such gifts is considered an invitation to have them taken away by jealous gods or bad fortune, but I feel obligated to stay that I'm thankful.
After the amazing triumph that was Juliette's performance in the year-end program, she had to come back down to earth for their last day of school on Friday. It was a half day, mostly for the purposes of cleaning up, gathering possessions, and saying goodbye. It won't be too much of the goodbye for us because the girls will attend summer camp for four weeks this year.
But it was my birthday! After grabbing coffee and breakfast, I managed a paltry 1000 words, but that brought my week's total to 14,840, or roughly 66 pages. My agent sent "Flawless" to an editor who wanted to see the partial, and I told her that my success this week felt like I was drag racing. She replied that this gave her the mental picture of me blowing past other writers and giving them the finger. So that's been my work week. On top of the weather and all the good things that we've done, I've had an excellent week with regard to productivity too. My Super Sekrit Project is also going places, but more details on that later.
Anyway, when I couldn't stand working on my birthday anymore, I went home and talked to my parents, where together we watched the girls' performance video. My new computer makes it very easy to upload and edit footage, so hopefully we'll be taking more video in the near future. I went to pick up the girls, and then we headed to the toy store.
At the silent auction the night before, Keven bid on and won a gift certificate to the Downtown Toy Store. We decided to let the girls be=low the $50 on anything they wanted because they had done so well and worked so hard for the performance. They chose a Playmobile= dollhouse and a set of dinosaur ink stamps. Then we went to Kaiser's for my birthday lunch. I'm the only one in the family who really likes Kaiser's pizza, so I got to be selfish.
After playtime, a rest, a phone call from my brother, and my cake, we went to Karen & Rich's house. They had secured a babysitter for the night, and we picked up Josie on the way to the movie theater to see Terminator: Salvation (review to come). Following the film we headed to Rendezvous, an unassuming place along a street lined with many, many bars, but inside it is a no smoking Tiki bar known for its amazing drinks. Josie's husband Brad met us there, and we all enjoyed sampling their astounding drinks.
Insert goofy conversations here.
Also, if you're going to have a birthday, it's a good thing to hang out with five people are older than you. I highly recommend it. It's good for the soul. However, we did listen to "Evenflow" by Pearl Jam on the way to the bar, which I distinctly remember listening to in the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, which was 16 years ago. Thirty-three is not exactly old, but it does feel a little bit, well, spooky. I'm very much enjoying this part of my life right now, and I certainly don't like the idea of it speeding on past.
We returned home to find the babysitters had worked magic: all five of our girls were asleep. Keven and I went home to collect an overnight bag and left it with Karen & Rich with the promise to return for our children come morning.
Sweet. Their first sleepover. Juliette and Ilsa had been asking to do one for ages, so this was their chance, and we have plans for a repeat performance next week.
We returned in the morning, ate toast, drink tea, conversed, and generally let the girls run around the backyard for a few hours. An exceedingly nice experience. Oh, and Karen & Rich gave me a certificate to Mangia for my birthday present, and we ate more cake. After that, we said our goodbyes and made for the farmers market, which opened for the summer today. We scored bread and rhubarb and this delicious garlic cheese spread. The girls went back to playing with their new toys, I watched Thursday's episode of "So You Think You Can Dance" and took a nap, and then we went to the park where I started reading the last of Patricia Gaffney's Wickerley trilogy.
See what I mean? Everything this week has been perfect. I am healthy, happy, and exceedingly lucky. I know in many cultures that acknowledging such gifts is considered an invitation to have them taken away by jealous gods or bad fortune, but I feel obligated to stay that I'm thankful.
Best Week Ever, Part 3
For the girls' year-end program, we arrived just after 5 PM and found that our seats were exactly front and center. Kindergarten privileges! We were seated with Juliette's friend Alaina and her parents. The silent auction was already in full swing, with roughly half again as many donations, at least, as last year. We estimated approximately 350 people in attendance.
After dinner, the kids took the stage for their performance. I knew they had been working on the songs for as many as three months, because they kept wanting to sing them for me. I asked that they wait so I could be surprised on the day. The only exception was that we were asked to make sure that the kindergartners knew their special song, which was a riff on "Start Spreading the News": "We want to be a part of it, first grade! First grade!" I had asked Juliette if she needed to practice, and she told me no. She has a fantastic memory so I never thought to have her work through the lyrics.
That sounds like the setup for some disastrous performance, but actually the exact opposite happened.
So Juliette was front and center onstage with Alaina, Caitlyn and Caroline, her buddies from the kindergarten class trip. All behind them on the bleachers sat the pre-K, preschool, and daycare 2- and 3-yos. The theme was space, which meant songs such as "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and "Mr. Sun," as well as a few new ones and poems from the kindergartners.
Juliette does not necessarily have a charismatic or natural stage presence, but she is a general when it comes to taking charge. Every song, every cue, every lyric--she was there first and loudest. The entire class followed her lead. Keven and I sat there in awe, and I struggled to keep my hands from shaking the video camera as I laughed. Her authority on stage was unmatched and it came to us as quite a surprise.
Her friend Alaina's behavior was also a surprise. She is generally a very outgoing, aggressive, fun-loving child who rivals Juliette in terms of leading the class. But she utterly, completely, entirely froze. After taking a spot next to Juliette, she didn't move and hardly changed expression for the next 20 minutes. This came as a shock, obviously, to her parents who sat at the same table with us. They had come with their video camera, knowing that their girl is outgoing and unafraid to sing in public. But this was textbook deer in the headlights.
When it came time for her to recite a poem, she didn't move. This could've have been incredibly awkward or even painful, had her fellow kindergartners behaved with less aplomb and tact. Juliette gently touched her on the arm and whispered to her. Caitlyn kept pointing to the microphone, and Caroline generally tried to ignore the situation, as if by not acknowledging it, the awkwardness would go away. But Alaina wasn't having any of it.
Mrs. Niles, the school director and MC, decided to move on to Juliette's poem. She was like a slightly more restrained Mary Catherine Gallagher, arms in the air at her chance to perform. Because she is so much taller than her fellow kindergartners, she had to squat to reach the microphone. Her diction, pacing and volume were amazing. Every word was perfectly enunciated, and she used the microphone well to project. I was speechless with admiration and laughter. Caitlyn and Caroline's poems were more breathy and embarrassed, and they couldn't get back to their spots in line quick enough.
When the time came for Alaina to take another line, Mrs. Mahant just held up the card for Juliette to read instead, knowing Alaina had quietly checked out. But when all of their performances were done and the kindergartners' names were announced, it was like the spell around her was broken. She walked off the stage when her name was called and returned to our table, seemingly unaffected by what had just taken place. It was an amazing example of a human being's singular response to stress.
Ilsa was on the bleachers with the younger children. As opposed to last year, when she pretty much zoned out and didn't seem to follow the course of the program, this year she was much more engaged and animated. The teachers must have instructed the children with regard to hand motions for certain songs, because Ilsa was doing them and no one else was. Only when she realized the futility of performing on her own did she stop. At the end of the show, she and the other five kindergartners for the 2009-10 school year remained on stage, and were specially recognized for that.
So I guess that means we'll be front and center again next year. It will be interesting to see how Ilsa reacts to her moment of possibly star-making/possibly paralyzing kindergarten performance fame.
After dinner, the kids took the stage for their performance. I knew they had been working on the songs for as many as three months, because they kept wanting to sing them for me. I asked that they wait so I could be surprised on the day. The only exception was that we were asked to make sure that the kindergartners knew their special song, which was a riff on "Start Spreading the News": "We want to be a part of it, first grade! First grade!" I had asked Juliette if she needed to practice, and she told me no. She has a fantastic memory so I never thought to have her work through the lyrics.
That sounds like the setup for some disastrous performance, but actually the exact opposite happened.
So Juliette was front and center onstage with Alaina, Caitlyn and Caroline, her buddies from the kindergarten class trip. All behind them on the bleachers sat the pre-K, preschool, and daycare 2- and 3-yos. The theme was space, which meant songs such as "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and "Mr. Sun," as well as a few new ones and poems from the kindergartners.
Juliette does not necessarily have a charismatic or natural stage presence, but she is a general when it comes to taking charge. Every song, every cue, every lyric--she was there first and loudest. The entire class followed her lead. Keven and I sat there in awe, and I struggled to keep my hands from shaking the video camera as I laughed. Her authority on stage was unmatched and it came to us as quite a surprise.
Her friend Alaina's behavior was also a surprise. She is generally a very outgoing, aggressive, fun-loving child who rivals Juliette in terms of leading the class. But she utterly, completely, entirely froze. After taking a spot next to Juliette, she didn't move and hardly changed expression for the next 20 minutes. This came as a shock, obviously, to her parents who sat at the same table with us. They had come with their video camera, knowing that their girl is outgoing and unafraid to sing in public. But this was textbook deer in the headlights.
When it came time for her to recite a poem, she didn't move. This could've have been incredibly awkward or even painful, had her fellow kindergartners behaved with less aplomb and tact. Juliette gently touched her on the arm and whispered to her. Caitlyn kept pointing to the microphone, and Caroline generally tried to ignore the situation, as if by not acknowledging it, the awkwardness would go away. But Alaina wasn't having any of it.
Mrs. Niles, the school director and MC, decided to move on to Juliette's poem. She was like a slightly more restrained Mary Catherine Gallagher, arms in the air at her chance to perform. Because she is so much taller than her fellow kindergartners, she had to squat to reach the microphone. Her diction, pacing and volume were amazing. Every word was perfectly enunciated, and she used the microphone well to project. I was speechless with admiration and laughter. Caitlyn and Caroline's poems were more breathy and embarrassed, and they couldn't get back to their spots in line quick enough.
When the time came for Alaina to take another line, Mrs. Mahant just held up the card for Juliette to read instead, knowing Alaina had quietly checked out. But when all of their performances were done and the kindergartners' names were announced, it was like the spell around her was broken. She walked off the stage when her name was called and returned to our table, seemingly unaffected by what had just taken place. It was an amazing example of a human being's singular response to stress.
Ilsa was on the bleachers with the younger children. As opposed to last year, when she pretty much zoned out and didn't seem to follow the course of the program, this year she was much more engaged and animated. The teachers must have instructed the children with regard to hand motions for certain songs, because Ilsa was doing them and no one else was. Only when she realized the futility of performing on her own did she stop. At the end of the show, she and the other five kindergartners for the 2009-10 school year remained on stage, and were specially recognized for that.
So I guess that means we'll be front and center again next year. It will be interesting to see how Ilsa reacts to her moment of possibly star-making/possibly paralyzing kindergarten performance fame.
Best Week Ever, Part 2
Tuesday, I ensconced myself at the library after dropping the girls off at school. Keven is on summer hours now: he goes to work at 7:30 and gets out at 4:45, then has a half day on Fridays. That means the girls and I are walking to and from school for the rest of their summer camp. My foot is holding up well, and most of the pain from the last procedure is receding. As long as I keep it elevated when I'm at home, I do all right. I was supposed to have another treatment on Wednesday but didn't want my recovery to impede our upcoming trip to Italy.
Sorry about the tangent.
Anyway, the weather all week has been absolutely gorgeous. I typed on my Alpha Smart while waiting for the library to open, and worked until noon when Keven picked me up for lunch. We ate at a dinky, unassuming little Mexican place next to Jockey, and the food was delicious as always. After lunch, I went home and chilled out on the balcony, rounding out my 4000 words for the day.
I picked up the girls from school, and a few hours later we had swimming. Karen G. and I finalized plans for my birthday celebration on Friday, and the girls continued to be awesome at swimming. Later that night, I showed them video of the men's 4 x 100 relay at the Beijing Olympics. They were both very impressed, except that Juliette became a little frustrated that her split is not as fast as Jason Lezak. I have to look into the local youth swim team organization, because our YMCA will be closing at the end of August. They enjoy swimming and take it too seriously for us not to continue once that happens.
Wednesday was very much a repeat of Tuesday, complete with 5000 words, gorgeous weather, and more swimming, except that night I finished watching "Life." So amazing. I haven't been affected by a television show like that in a very long time. The girls had a pizza party at school because it was their last full day for the year. They also watched Darby O'Gill and the Little People, a classic from my youth. Ilsa, predictably, was a little freaked out by the banshee. I was surprised to see how many of the shots seemed to exist only to demonstrate the advanced nature of their special effects. Not too different from today. And Sean Connery was hot.
Thursday was all about the year-end program. I dropped the girls off for practice at the reception hall where they would perform later that night. Then I escaped to a local Starbucks and completed just over 3000 words in exactly two hours. Yay for Alpha Smart! Yay for incentives--I knew I wasn't going to have another chance to write that day and wanted to have it done and off my mind.
I picked up the girls at 11:30 and we went to McDonald's for lunch. Afterward, we headed to the local outlet mall and picked up lots of Skechers: a pair of athletic shoes and new ballet-ish flats for me, a pair of funky crocs for Juliette, and light-up jellies for Ilsa. Then it was off to Old Navy for my birthday shopping trip. I'm now completely outfitted with new jeans, trousers, shirts, and a cute little cardigan.
We stopped off at the grocery store to buy my birthday cake--Swiss chocolate--then headed home for a nap. After the girls took showers and did their hair, we picked up Keven and headed out to the program. Last year, it had been scheduled to coincide with my birthday, which was fine but not exactly ideal. This year was set to be wonderful and memorable.
Sorry about the tangent.
Anyway, the weather all week has been absolutely gorgeous. I typed on my Alpha Smart while waiting for the library to open, and worked until noon when Keven picked me up for lunch. We ate at a dinky, unassuming little Mexican place next to Jockey, and the food was delicious as always. After lunch, I went home and chilled out on the balcony, rounding out my 4000 words for the day.
I picked up the girls from school, and a few hours later we had swimming. Karen G. and I finalized plans for my birthday celebration on Friday, and the girls continued to be awesome at swimming. Later that night, I showed them video of the men's 4 x 100 relay at the Beijing Olympics. They were both very impressed, except that Juliette became a little frustrated that her split is not as fast as Jason Lezak. I have to look into the local youth swim team organization, because our YMCA will be closing at the end of August. They enjoy swimming and take it too seriously for us not to continue once that happens.
Wednesday was very much a repeat of Tuesday, complete with 5000 words, gorgeous weather, and more swimming, except that night I finished watching "Life." So amazing. I haven't been affected by a television show like that in a very long time. The girls had a pizza party at school because it was their last full day for the year. They also watched Darby O'Gill and the Little People, a classic from my youth. Ilsa, predictably, was a little freaked out by the banshee. I was surprised to see how many of the shots seemed to exist only to demonstrate the advanced nature of their special effects. Not too different from today. And Sean Connery was hot.
Thursday was all about the year-end program. I dropped the girls off for practice at the reception hall where they would perform later that night. Then I escaped to a local Starbucks and completed just over 3000 words in exactly two hours. Yay for Alpha Smart! Yay for incentives--I knew I wasn't going to have another chance to write that day and wanted to have it done and off my mind.
I picked up the girls at 11:30 and we went to McDonald's for lunch. Afterward, we headed to the local outlet mall and picked up lots of Skechers: a pair of athletic shoes and new ballet-ish flats for me, a pair of funky crocs for Juliette, and light-up jellies for Ilsa. Then it was off to Old Navy for my birthday shopping trip. I'm now completely outfitted with new jeans, trousers, shirts, and a cute little cardigan.
We stopped off at the grocery store to buy my birthday cake--Swiss chocolate--then headed home for a nap. After the girls took showers and did their hair, we picked up Keven and headed out to the program. Last year, it had been scheduled to coincide with my birthday, which was fine but not exactly ideal. This year was set to be wonderful and memorable.
Best Week Ever, Part 1
I haven't been much for updates this week because I've been incredibly busy having a blast. It all started last Sunday when Liz, Nancy and I met up for breakfast. Whenever we get together for our Sunday breakfasts, we always have a great time. After lunch, Keven took the girls out to a miniature golf place, so I had the afternoon to myself and took a nap. I spent that night catching up on episodes of "Life." Over the weekend, I also began work on Flawless and managed 1800 words.
I got an email from Juliette's kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Mahant. Her son had been ill the previous Friday when she and another teacher were set to take before kindergarten girls up to the Milwaukee Public Museum for their end-of-year field trip. Because the trip had been rescheduled to Monday, the other teacher couldn't attend. Mrs. Mahant was soliciting parental chaperones, or else she would have to take all four girls by herself. I thought this was a great opportunity to spend time with Juliette, check out the museum we hadn't been to, and just get out of the house for a while. Plus, I like Mrs. Mahant and really sympathized with her situation; no one should have to wrangle four other people's children on their own like that.
First I checked with Juliette. She was very excited to have me along. I guess, for a moment, I had mistaken her for a teenager and thought she would mind my intrusion. Ilsa, however, didn't want me to go. She became very upset, and it was only after a few minutes that I realized her reaction was one of jealousy. So I guess I'm going on the field trip next year as well.
Monday was beautiful and sunny. We gathered at the school at 8 AM and headed north in Mrs. Mahant's minivan, complete with DVD player. That's traveling in style! The museum is very nice, much nicer than the rather small public museum we have here in Kenosha. Because about 100 students from other fields trips entered the ground floor as we arrived, a docent suggested that we take the elevator up to the third floor, which would be empty, and work our way down. That was the way to go. We had the whole floor to ourselves.
The other kindergartners are Alaina, Caitlin, and Caroline. Alaina and Juliette are like good friends and good rivals, very energetic and opinionated, and most prone to get into disagreements. This didn't become an issue until they began to tire. Until then, all four girls were exceedingly well-behaved, and between Mrs. Mahant and I, we managed to keep their attention and explore quite a lot. After lunch we watched an IMAX movie called Astronaut, which examined the effects of space travel on the human body, so it covered new material--not necessarily just space basics. Plus it was narrated by Ewan McGregor, which made me happy. Overall, I enjoyed the field trip experience much more than I had even anticipated, and I look forward to returning with the girls later this summer.
That night was more about catching up with episodes of "Life," then happily crashing.
I got an email from Juliette's kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Mahant. Her son had been ill the previous Friday when she and another teacher were set to take before kindergarten girls up to the Milwaukee Public Museum for their end-of-year field trip. Because the trip had been rescheduled to Monday, the other teacher couldn't attend. Mrs. Mahant was soliciting parental chaperones, or else she would have to take all four girls by herself. I thought this was a great opportunity to spend time with Juliette, check out the museum we hadn't been to, and just get out of the house for a while. Plus, I like Mrs. Mahant and really sympathized with her situation; no one should have to wrangle four other people's children on their own like that.
First I checked with Juliette. She was very excited to have me along. I guess, for a moment, I had mistaken her for a teenager and thought she would mind my intrusion. Ilsa, however, didn't want me to go. She became very upset, and it was only after a few minutes that I realized her reaction was one of jealousy. So I guess I'm going on the field trip next year as well.
Monday was beautiful and sunny. We gathered at the school at 8 AM and headed north in Mrs. Mahant's minivan, complete with DVD player. That's traveling in style! The museum is very nice, much nicer than the rather small public museum we have here in Kenosha. Because about 100 students from other fields trips entered the ground floor as we arrived, a docent suggested that we take the elevator up to the third floor, which would be empty, and work our way down. That was the way to go. We had the whole floor to ourselves.
The other kindergartners are Alaina, Caitlin, and Caroline. Alaina and Juliette are like good friends and good rivals, very energetic and opinionated, and most prone to get into disagreements. This didn't become an issue until they began to tire. Until then, all four girls were exceedingly well-behaved, and between Mrs. Mahant and I, we managed to keep their attention and explore quite a lot. After lunch we watched an IMAX movie called Astronaut, which examined the effects of space travel on the human body, so it covered new material--not necessarily just space basics. Plus it was narrated by Ewan McGregor, which made me happy. Overall, I enjoyed the field trip experience much more than I had even anticipated, and I look forward to returning with the girls later this summer.
That night was more about catching up with episodes of "Life," then happily crashing.
5/22/09
Anton is Awesome
Anton Yelchin was absolutely the best part about Terminator: Salvation. He's had quite a month, first taking over as Chekhov in Star Trek and now playing Kyle Reese. Being quite the connoisseur of Michael Biehn's mid-80s James Cameron projects, I think he was a fantastic Reese. But don't think the film's overall suckiness ruined my Made of Win Birthday. It didn't. I get to be righteously angry for days, which was worth the price of admission. A full review of the otherwise ass horrible train wreck will be forthcoming. In fact, I'll do updates about the whole week! I've been writing, dammit!
5/20/09
Gimme a Woot!
So aside from all the "Dollhouse" hoopla, which I don't watch, I hadn't checked out the full Fox fall lineup. My curiosity was as to whether or not "Lie to Me" would be returning. And I received double good news! First up, yes, "Lie to Me" will be part of Fox's fall schedule, on Mondays after "House." It's British night! Second, they've picked up a second full season of "So You Think You Can Dance"! That's right, after the summer's fifth season, they'll move straight into season six on Tuesdays and Wednesdays in the fall. While I know this means we'll burn out the show more quickly, I can't help but be happy for now.
Oooh! It's going to run simultaneously with the second season of SYTYCD Canada, which is just wrapping up auditions. Can I handle So! Much! Dance?!
On other channels, I know "Castle" has been renewed, which is fun, and I'm still waiting for Jay Leno to suck ass enough for NBC to renew "Life." Still waiting. Still waiting. I have three episodes left to watch, and I've been parsing them out, knowing there's little chance of seeing much more after these are done. Damian!
Oooh! It's going to run simultaneously with the second season of SYTYCD Canada, which is just wrapping up auditions. Can I handle So! Much! Dance?!On other channels, I know "Castle" has been renewed, which is fun, and I'm still waiting for Jay Leno to suck ass enough for NBC to renew "Life." Still waiting. Still waiting. I have three episodes left to watch, and I've been parsing them out, knowing there's little chance of seeing much more after these are done. Damian!
5/19/09
Now That's What I'm Talking About!
Sherlock mania, commence! Enjoy this fine trailer. Tomorrow I'll recap my chaperoning trip to Milwaukee with the kindergartners.
Edited to add: I thought this was going to be a summer movie! What the hell! I have to wait until Christmas? Snazzle frazzle...
Edited to add: I thought this was going to be a summer movie! What the hell! I have to wait until Christmas? Snazzle frazzle...
5/15/09
Career Updates
The market climate may be such that newer authors can't sell based on proposal. So that means I'll be starting in on the full manuscript of my South African book, working title Flawless, as of Monday. I have loose ends on a different project to finish up this weekend, which will then go out the door later next week. And the sequels to the Scoundrels are on hold pending divine intervention, namely a sale elsewhere or good numbers on WaSW and Scoundrel's Kiss...which we won't know for sure until September.
Thus September is my next benchmark. I should have Flawless ready, meaning a serious kick-ass summer of writing--back to my evenings and weekends roots. We should know the preliminary fate of the mums-the-word project, and numbers for my Kensington books may be such that additional contracts are forthcoming. Or not. But at least I'll know.
Despite my afternoon of freaking out, I'm okay with this. Good things happen to me in September: I flew to England for the first time, I completed by first manuscript, sold my first book, and the kids always head back to school. It's the start of fall, the academic calendar's equivalent to a new year, a new start.
I live in hope. It's either that or get a regular job. Screw that.
Thus September is my next benchmark. I should have Flawless ready, meaning a serious kick-ass summer of writing--back to my evenings and weekends roots. We should know the preliminary fate of the mums-the-word project, and numbers for my Kensington books may be such that additional contracts are forthcoming. Or not. But at least I'll know.
Despite my afternoon of freaking out, I'm okay with this. Good things happen to me in September: I flew to England for the first time, I completed by first manuscript, sold my first book, and the kids always head back to school. It's the start of fall, the academic calendar's equivalent to a new year, a new start.
I live in hope. It's either that or get a regular job. Screw that.
Happy Birthday, Casey!
Today is my dear brother's 31st birthday, which means he's super old. Man. I'd hate to be that old.
Wait.
Anyway, in honor of his birthday, and in an effort to spread the word about his budding career as a film maker, I'm posting his latest short, "Hitman Hardknocks," a Big Hat Cowboy Production. Congratulations on being an awesome guy, having a great family, and pursuing what you love. Love you!
Wait.
Anyway, in honor of his birthday, and in an effort to spread the word about his budding career as a film maker, I'm posting his latest short, "Hitman Hardknocks," a Big Hat Cowboy Production. Congratulations on being an awesome guy, having a great family, and pursuing what you love. Love you!
5/14/09
Weeee!
Yay! The insurance company paid my doctor! Now I can throw away this scary $3K bill! I'd dance for joy, but my heel still smarts. Look, the Doctor approves!
Start Spreadin' the News
I got an email yesterday from author Jennifer Estep, who presented a panel at my first Nationals in Dallas. Aside from her popular superhero romances, she also writes book reviews for the Bristol Herald Courier in Virginia, circulation 38,000. Turns out that she did a review for What a Scoundrel Wants, all on her own. I didn't ask her to. How cool! Strange, too, that I was wide-eyed and unpublished when I saw her speak in 2007, and now she's devoting print inches to my debut. You can read it here.
Ilsa's pink eye is better. After a productive day out-and-about with her yesterday, she headed back to school this morning. Juliette is going on a Kindergarten class trip tomorrow, where they'll head up to the Milwaukee Public Museum, take in lunch, and see an IMAX movie about space. Ilsa is just about green with envy, but the advantage to having girls who are only a year apart is that she can see her turn right around the corner. Many of her sentences begin with, "Next year, when I'm a kindergartner..."
It's lovely out. We bought a windchime and a hanging plant. However, living on the Lake is like tempting fate. Come, come, windy day. Steal our stuff!
Ilsa's pink eye is better. After a productive day out-and-about with her yesterday, she headed back to school this morning. Juliette is going on a Kindergarten class trip tomorrow, where they'll head up to the Milwaukee Public Museum, take in lunch, and see an IMAX movie about space. Ilsa is just about green with envy, but the advantage to having girls who are only a year apart is that she can see her turn right around the corner. Many of her sentences begin with, "Next year, when I'm a kindergartner..."
It's lovely out. We bought a windchime and a hanging plant. However, living on the Lake is like tempting fate. Come, come, windy day. Steal our stuff!
5/12/09
Pink Eye Revisted
Why is it I feel like actually beating up folks who nay-say the new Star Trek? Have I become a Trekkie, or does my preference for the re-boot make me an anti-Trekkie? Should I be sporting alternate universe facial hair? I'm confused. This is the first film I've wanted to see again in the theater since The Matrix, which for all you old folks out there, was ten! years! ago! Cripes. But funny--put a stocking cap on Evil Spock and he practically becomes The Edge.
"Shake it, shake it, shake it, Salome!"
Anyway, Ilsa came home with pink eye today. Joy! She can't go back to school until at least 24 hours after the first treatment, which means my doctor's appointment set for tomorrow had to be rescheduled. Why the passive tense there? Maybe because I don't feel in control of my destiny. Anyway, yeah--rescheduled for July!! Dude. Glad it's just an annual. But there's no way I'm taking a curious 5-year-old to that particular exam. All of the possible questions beginning with, "Mommy...?" make my brain boggle.
Here's a pink eye clip a la "South Park," which remains awesome despite having been released in 1997. Can you tell my birthday's coming up? I feel like the damn Crypt Keeper this week.
"Shake it, shake it, shake it, Salome!"
Anyway, Ilsa came home with pink eye today. Joy! She can't go back to school until at least 24 hours after the first treatment, which means my doctor's appointment set for tomorrow had to be rescheduled. Why the passive tense there? Maybe because I don't feel in control of my destiny. Anyway, yeah--rescheduled for July!! Dude. Glad it's just an annual. But there's no way I'm taking a curious 5-year-old to that particular exam. All of the possible questions beginning with, "Mommy...?" make my brain boggle.
Here's a pink eye clip a la "South Park," which remains awesome despite having been released in 1997. Can you tell my birthday's coming up? I feel like the damn Crypt Keeper this week.
5/11/09
Star Trek (2009)
Chris Pine (Kirk), Zachary Quinto (Spock), Zoe Saldana (Uhura), Eric Bana (Nero)
Directed by J.J. Abrams ("Lost")
IMDB: A chronicle of the early days of an alternate-universe James T. Kirk and his fellow USS Enterprise crew members.
Because teenager girls need pocket money, our friends Karen and Rich were able to find Saturday night babysitters to watch all of our kids. We escaped for a matinee showing, followed by dinner at a new waterfront Irish pub, which made for an almost perfect evening out--marred only by my ow damn shit foot.
Anyway, the film! Incredible! My hyperbole is likely to expand to unfathomable proportions as I go on, so forgive me.
Reason the Awesome #1: Great script. It all made sense, moved along at a hella quick clip, and still made time for moments of wry humor, friendship, and even romance. Keven mentioned that it had all the bits fans would expect, without degenerating into a greatest hits list. "Damn it, Jim!" Check. "Illogical." Check. But it never felt that cheesy. Even the slapstick never crossed the line to eye-rolling disappointment. In this scene, where all of them are turning to look at Spock--the last piece of the puzzle--I got a fantastic "They got the band back together!" feeling.
Yet the obviousness of this shot was never repeated. Didn't need to be. There's even a reason why Kirk is wearing "look at how hot and intense I am" black clothing. They covered every base, slowly forging individuals into a coherent team that trusted and depended on each other.
The only criticism we could muster had to do with Eric Bana's rather shallow villain. But he served the purpose of the movie, which was to reboot the franchise and introduce a whole new cast in an alternate universe. Any sequels will need to have a more complex plot. For this adventure, however, it worked. And someone finally realized how Eric Bana should appear in a film: as a hideous Romulan! It suits him and his ears!
I digress.
Reason the Awesome #2: Incredible special effects. The opening ten minutes is insane with stuff and explosions and ships. Overall, not so much cheesy-ass CGI--just good old-fashioned model spaceships. Kickin' it Old Skool.
Reason the Awesome #3: Chris Pine. (The only more all American-looking dudes are Matt Damon and James Marsden.) Pine played a mean combination of hard-ass determination, fly-by-the-seat playboy, and smarts. Shatner's Kirk always struck me as half bravado, half luck. This new Kirk has rougher edges and a lot more gray matter to back up his arrogance. On one particular occasion, done for effect, he hit the Shatner intonation just right without making it some Priceline parody. The subtlety of his performance speaks to Pine's skill and Abrams' vision. And oh, love the eyes.
Reason the Awesome #4: Zachacy Quinto. Hellloooo, beta hero! Can Spock actually be hot? I mean seriously? Yup, in part because he has Winona Ryder as his mom. Whereas the original series posited Kirk and Spock as two sides of the same coin, this version messed with their histories just enough to make them less diametrically opposed--more like two men with complimentary flaws and weaknesses, as much rivals as friends. This Spock is...edgy, defiant, and a bit dangerous. He's swarthy like Ron Livingston and gonna go postal if pushed too far.
Because of the film's events, he reaches the limit of his ability to cope--hence, that touch of romance I mentioned. Urhua's hot for teacher, especially when he's way-whoa desperate for a little comfort.
Fanfiction will blossom all over the Trekkie universe.
Reason the Awesome #5: Everyone else. Simon Pegg's Scottish accent was worth the price of admission, and he played a fantastic Scotty. "I like this ship! It's exciting!" Karl Urban as Bones was also amazing, channeling that bizarre DeForrest Kelley Georgia accent without ever making fun. I really dug Zoe Saldana as Uhura--just enough brains and toughness to be relevant to today, while still maintaining Nichelle Nichols' role as the feminine heart of the crew. Her updated go-go style, again, kept the spirit of the original show without seeming out of date or lame. It's really amazing how many lines the movie successfully walked.
It was so much fun, more like Ironman than The Dark Knight in terms of pure, enjoyable entertainment, but equal to both films for storytelling. I can't wait to see it again, and I'm eager to hear news that a sequel is in the works.
Directed by J.J. Abrams ("Lost")
IMDB: A chronicle of the early days of an alternate-universe James T. Kirk and his fellow USS Enterprise crew members.
Because teenager girls need pocket money, our friends Karen and Rich were able to find Saturday night babysitters to watch all of our kids. We escaped for a matinee showing, followed by dinner at a new waterfront Irish pub, which made for an almost perfect evening out--marred only by my ow damn shit foot.
Anyway, the film! Incredible! My hyperbole is likely to expand to unfathomable proportions as I go on, so forgive me.
Reason the Awesome #1: Great script. It all made sense, moved along at a hella quick clip, and still made time for moments of wry humor, friendship, and even romance. Keven mentioned that it had all the bits fans would expect, without degenerating into a greatest hits list. "Damn it, Jim!" Check. "Illogical." Check. But it never felt that cheesy. Even the slapstick never crossed the line to eye-rolling disappointment. In this scene, where all of them are turning to look at Spock--the last piece of the puzzle--I got a fantastic "They got the band back together!" feeling.
Yet the obviousness of this shot was never repeated. Didn't need to be. There's even a reason why Kirk is wearing "look at how hot and intense I am" black clothing. They covered every base, slowly forging individuals into a coherent team that trusted and depended on each other.The only criticism we could muster had to do with Eric Bana's rather shallow villain. But he served the purpose of the movie, which was to reboot the franchise and introduce a whole new cast in an alternate universe. Any sequels will need to have a more complex plot. For this adventure, however, it worked. And someone finally realized how Eric Bana should appear in a film: as a hideous Romulan! It suits him and his ears!
I digress.
Reason the Awesome #2: Incredible special effects. The opening ten minutes is insane with stuff and explosions and ships. Overall, not so much cheesy-ass CGI--just good old-fashioned model spaceships. Kickin' it Old Skool.
Reason the Awesome #3: Chris Pine. (The only more all American-looking dudes are Matt Damon and James Marsden.) Pine played a mean combination of hard-ass determination, fly-by-the-seat playboy, and smarts. Shatner's Kirk always struck me as half bravado, half luck. This new Kirk has rougher edges and a lot more gray matter to back up his arrogance. On one particular occasion, done for effect, he hit the Shatner intonation just right without making it some Priceline parody. The subtlety of his performance speaks to Pine's skill and Abrams' vision. And oh, love the eyes.
Reason the Awesome #4: Zachacy Quinto. Hellloooo, beta hero! Can Spock actually be hot? I mean seriously? Yup, in part because he has Winona Ryder as his mom. Whereas the original series posited Kirk and Spock as two sides of the same coin, this version messed with their histories just enough to make them less diametrically opposed--more like two men with complimentary flaws and weaknesses, as much rivals as friends. This Spock is...edgy, defiant, and a bit dangerous. He's swarthy like Ron Livingston and gonna go postal if pushed too far. Because of the film's events, he reaches the limit of his ability to cope--hence, that touch of romance I mentioned. Urhua's hot for teacher, especially when he's way-whoa desperate for a little comfort.
Fanfiction will blossom all over the Trekkie universe. Reason the Awesome #5: Everyone else. Simon Pegg's Scottish accent was worth the price of admission, and he played a fantastic Scotty. "I like this ship! It's exciting!" Karl Urban as Bones was also amazing, channeling that bizarre DeForrest Kelley Georgia accent without ever making fun. I really dug Zoe Saldana as Uhura--just enough brains and toughness to be relevant to today, while still maintaining Nichelle Nichols' role as the feminine heart of the crew. Her updated go-go style, again, kept the spirit of the original show without seeming out of date or lame. It's really amazing how many lines the movie successfully walked.
It was so much fun, more like Ironman than The Dark Knight in terms of pure, enjoyable entertainment, but equal to both films for storytelling. I can't wait to see it again, and I'm eager to hear news that a sequel is in the works.
5/8/09
Orange Jumpsuits
After an utterly, worthlessly unproductive day, I caught up on all of "Lie to Me," including the most recent one that aired on Wednesday. It was good to see Tim Roth back in his gangsta convict mode, if only for a while. Why is it that whenever folks do a retrospective of his career, they always forget to mention Captives? Amazing film. Some guy has all of it on YouTube, should you find yourself with 90 minutes to kill, and you can read my review of it here. Otherwise, I hope Fox decides to renew "Lie to Me," coz I'm hooked.
ETA: Good to see Mekhi Phifer has a new home on the show.
ETA: Good to see Mekhi Phifer has a new home on the show.
That's Evolutionary!
Look, Dr. Malcolm is so happy. He approves this hot science-based post.
This morning the girls were almost late to school because we got into a discussion about evolution. Ilsa has been under the impression that "dinosaurs changed into birds" kind of like caterpillars turn into butterflies--one generation, boom! New species! So I had to nip that in the bud.
We'd been talking about characteristics of Gallimimus, one of the ornithomimids featured in Jurassic Park, and how scientists now believe they had feathers. Their resemblance to ostriches is just astounding. Considering that Coelophysis means "hollow form" and was first discovered in 1898, you have to wonder what those early scientists were smoking for them to assume dinosaurs were reptilian. They probably got high one day and said, "You know, they look a lot like crocodiles. Good enough."
Anyway, we brought it back to human beings and how Juliette would probably be best able, in our family, to survive an extensive rainy period because she's very fair and therefore able to go without Vitamin D. I then used Ilsa, who recently tried to give me a heart attack by standing on a table out on our balcony, as an example of what happens when animals make dumb decisions and die before they're able to reproduce.
"Then there would be no more Ilsas!" she said. True enough, and that would be a tragedy.
Another thing about Jurassic Park is that the Dilophosaurus is portrayed fictitiously in the film. I know, hard to imagine filmmakers taking artistic license with the facts, but to the girls, this is tantamount to treason. Dilophosaurus is the nasty-ass who sprayed paralyzing ink on Wayne Knight, opened its frill, and ate him in the cab of a Jeep. The annoying shit deserved it. The real animal had no frill, no paralyzing ink, and was about 19 feet long--so maybe it could've fit into an RV, but not a Jeep. The girls were quite devastated. So not only has this recent dino madness resulted in many scientific discoveries, they've also learned that Hollywood can be deceptive.
Tangential story short, our 5- and 6-year-old daughters now have a better working comprehension of evolution than about 90% of Congress. I just know we're setting them up for a life of frustration, misery, and too much knowledge.
This morning the girls were almost late to school because we got into a discussion about evolution. Ilsa has been under the impression that "dinosaurs changed into birds" kind of like caterpillars turn into butterflies--one generation, boom! New species! So I had to nip that in the bud.
We'd been talking about characteristics of Gallimimus, one of the ornithomimids featured in Jurassic Park, and how scientists now believe they had feathers. Their resemblance to ostriches is just astounding. Considering that Coelophysis means "hollow form" and was first discovered in 1898, you have to wonder what those early scientists were smoking for them to assume dinosaurs were reptilian. They probably got high one day and said, "You know, they look a lot like crocodiles. Good enough."
Anyway, we brought it back to human beings and how Juliette would probably be best able, in our family, to survive an extensive rainy period because she's very fair and therefore able to go without Vitamin D. I then used Ilsa, who recently tried to give me a heart attack by standing on a table out on our balcony, as an example of what happens when animals make dumb decisions and die before they're able to reproduce. "Then there would be no more Ilsas!" she said. True enough, and that would be a tragedy.
Another thing about Jurassic Park is that the Dilophosaurus is portrayed fictitiously in the film. I know, hard to imagine filmmakers taking artistic license with the facts, but to the girls, this is tantamount to treason. Dilophosaurus is the nasty-ass who sprayed paralyzing ink on Wayne Knight, opened its frill, and ate him in the cab of a Jeep. The annoying shit deserved it. The real animal had no frill, no paralyzing ink, and was about 19 feet long--so maybe it could've fit into an RV, but not a Jeep. The girls were quite devastated. So not only has this recent dino madness resulted in many scientific discoveries, they've also learned that Hollywood can be deceptive.Tangential story short, our 5- and 6-year-old daughters now have a better working comprehension of evolution than about 90% of Congress. I just know we're setting them up for a life of frustration, misery, and too much knowledge.
5/7/09
I Gross Myself Out
I had a caffeine-free Diet Dr. Pepper and a half can of black olives for breakfast. What kind of freak am I? Should I even be let outdoors? I might infect others!
5/6/09
Hotties All Around
Who's gonna go see the new Sherlock Holmes with me this summer? Josie? Liz?
And now, because I love my husband, here's a lovely picture of the bodaciously redheaded and well-endowed enchantress, Christina Hendricks.
You can tell, perhaps, that I have little by way of profound thinking to impart today. Such is a Wednesday.
And now, because I love my husband, here's a lovely picture of the bodaciously redheaded and well-endowed enchantress, Christina Hendricks.
You can tell, perhaps, that I have little by way of profound thinking to impart today. Such is a Wednesday.5/5/09
Ouch
I received a rejection today that I very much didn't want to get, but part of me thought it was going to turn out this way. Gah. I'm not impressed with things at the moment. However, at least I'm not bored. I have lots to do before school gets out later this month.
We're shifting our focus--not the royal we, but my agent and I--toward FLAWLESS, which is the working title for my Next Big Thing. I posted an excerpt from it last week, and I'm loathe to describe any more about it just yet. I love it. So much. It's honestly the best thing I've written to date, and I want it to fly out into the world and make with the much conquering. Ooh, look at the pretty:
In other news, Ilsa and Juliette have been very brave. They watched Jurassic Park, then Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with scary-as-shit Gene Wilder. I provided heavy commentary for both, particularly the whens and hows of various deaths. Progress. I'm not ready to show them Alien, but at least they're not bawling over The Little Mermaid anymore.
They've grown increasingly bored with regular kid fare, particularly since we've been reading classics aloud. They can handle much more complicated plots and more danger when it's literary, and then they expect those more riveting plots from TV and movies. Not always going to be there in kid stuff.
My general impressions upon re-watching them after so many years: Jurassic Park still has very awesome moments of completely fun and manipulative film making, but not enough the highly incredible and oddly hot Jeff Goldblum. Willy Wonka is excessively creepy and subversive, but the opening 1/3 moves too slowly. Quality flicks, both of them.
Oh, and Juliette complained about the finale of Jurassic Park because Tyrannosaurus is now thought to be a scavenger, not a hunter.
Because of that, T-Rex must have used smell as its major food-gathering sense, which makes the whole "hold still so it won't find us" thing irrelevant. Huh. She's been paying far more attention to the National Geographic specials than me.
In other news, the Kensoha Chrysler plant is scheduled to be shut down, which will do lovely things for our community. I think Jockey has just become Kenosha's "too big to fail" corporation. Times, they are a-suckin'.
But we're only two weeks and two days away from the return of Cat Deeley on SYTYCD US. Yay for Cat! I need help. And lunch.
We're shifting our focus--not the royal we, but my agent and I--toward FLAWLESS, which is the working title for my Next Big Thing. I posted an excerpt from it last week, and I'm loathe to describe any more about it just yet. I love it. So much. It's honestly the best thing I've written to date, and I want it to fly out into the world and make with the much conquering. Ooh, look at the pretty:
In other news, Ilsa and Juliette have been very brave. They watched Jurassic Park, then Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with scary-as-shit Gene Wilder. I provided heavy commentary for both, particularly the whens and hows of various deaths. Progress. I'm not ready to show them Alien, but at least they're not bawling over The Little Mermaid anymore. They've grown increasingly bored with regular kid fare, particularly since we've been reading classics aloud. They can handle much more complicated plots and more danger when it's literary, and then they expect those more riveting plots from TV and movies. Not always going to be there in kid stuff.
My general impressions upon re-watching them after so many years: Jurassic Park still has very awesome moments of completely fun and manipulative film making, but not enough the highly incredible and oddly hot Jeff Goldblum. Willy Wonka is excessively creepy and subversive, but the opening 1/3 moves too slowly. Quality flicks, both of them.
Oh, and Juliette complained about the finale of Jurassic Park because Tyrannosaurus is now thought to be a scavenger, not a hunter.
Because of that, T-Rex must have used smell as its major food-gathering sense, which makes the whole "hold still so it won't find us" thing irrelevant. Huh. She's been paying far more attention to the National Geographic specials than me.In other news, the Kensoha Chrysler plant is scheduled to be shut down, which will do lovely things for our community. I think Jockey has just become Kenosha's "too big to fail" corporation. Times, they are a-suckin'.
But we're only two weeks and two days away from the return of Cat Deeley on SYTYCD US. Yay for Cat! I need help. And lunch.
5/3/09
Hugh vs. Hugh
Yes, I saw X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Oh, the horror! I tell you, when the arrival of a teenage Scott Summers is the most exciting part, the film has issues. Many issues. Too many for me to do an actual review without my head exploding.
(I will say, however, that I'd been reserving judgment about that guy who doesn't look anything like Gambit, yet who'd been cast to play Gambit. Now I can officially and unabashedly say he deserves a good old fashioned stoning. How do you make Remy LeBeau boring?)
But what, you ask, about Mr. Jackman?
I'm afraid he was small compensation. I've never gotten off on bodybuilder physiques. I kept thinking that he must have spent every waking moment in the gym for six months, or else he'd resorted to steroids--neither option is sexy! I prefer when he carries less bulk on his six-foot frame. It's sexier to think he's naturally fit, rather than wondering about his ungodly regime. And I like when Hugh can emote, when he can be vulnerable, when he can act. This was a bunch of grunting and moaning and flinging. No good. Sucked away the awesome.
So give me his character from The Fountain any day, all day. Here he displays a lovely expanse of neck whilst kissing his dying wife in the bathtub. *cries*
Versus Wolverine, he of the icky vein arms. Sorry, bub. Not my cuppa.
Oh, and did I mention that the film was shit? Thought I should reiterate.
(I will say, however, that I'd been reserving judgment about that guy who doesn't look anything like Gambit, yet who'd been cast to play Gambit. Now I can officially and unabashedly say he deserves a good old fashioned stoning. How do you make Remy LeBeau boring?)
But what, you ask, about Mr. Jackman?
I'm afraid he was small compensation. I've never gotten off on bodybuilder physiques. I kept thinking that he must have spent every waking moment in the gym for six months, or else he'd resorted to steroids--neither option is sexy! I prefer when he carries less bulk on his six-foot frame. It's sexier to think he's naturally fit, rather than wondering about his ungodly regime. And I like when Hugh can emote, when he can be vulnerable, when he can act. This was a bunch of grunting and moaning and flinging. No good. Sucked away the awesome.
So give me his character from The Fountain any day, all day. Here he displays a lovely expanse of neck whilst kissing his dying wife in the bathtub. *cries*
Versus Wolverine, he of the icky vein arms. Sorry, bub. Not my cuppa. 
Oh, and did I mention that the film was shit? Thought I should reiterate.5/1/09
Castle
"Castle," however, isn't as good. The woman playing the detective is really bad, and the production team is making poor decisions regarding the speed and intensity of their would-be attraction. I mean, isn't the goal always "Moonlighting" or "Cheers" or "X-Files" when it comes to the will they/won't they dynamic? In all three of those shows, no matter the flirtation that may have gone on verbally, the characters maintained physical barriers that helped make the tension more sound. Check out this picture:
No one ever ever ever burrows that deeply into someone's personal space without a) punching them or b) kissing them. This happened in the very first episode in an interrogation room, which totally sapped the woman's credibility as a cop. Especially coming off of watching two episodes of "Lie to Me," which is based on body language, I just wasn't buying this.
Oh, and "Life" kicks its ass with regard to the Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You aspect of the police procedural, specifically when they break into people's houses, draw their weapons, etc. The Castle detective lady didn't even check behind her as she jumped into the living room. What the hell? They're definitely going for quirky and fun rather than genuine.
Don't even get me started on the writer bits. Castle gives her an advance copy of his next book, but the advance is in hardback. I'd have bought it if he said "author copy." And his ex-wife is his "publisher." What does that mean exactly? She demands his next manuscript be on her desk in three weeks, but then she introduces him at a public function. Editors don't leave their caves if they don't have to! I suppose it would be like doctors watching "House" or lawyers watching just about anything on TV.
Castle's relationships with both his mother and his daughter are very cute and natural, making me remember why I like Nathan Fillion so much. It's his Captain Mal look, a blend of patience and exacerbation--like he just can't believe what's being said in front of him. But then he's back with the lame detective lady and he just comes across as painfully smug and useless.
Anyone else watch? Does it get better?
No one ever ever ever burrows that deeply into someone's personal space without a) punching them or b) kissing them. This happened in the very first episode in an interrogation room, which totally sapped the woman's credibility as a cop. Especially coming off of watching two episodes of "Lie to Me," which is based on body language, I just wasn't buying this. Oh, and "Life" kicks its ass with regard to the Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You aspect of the police procedural, specifically when they break into people's houses, draw their weapons, etc. The Castle detective lady didn't even check behind her as she jumped into the living room. What the hell? They're definitely going for quirky and fun rather than genuine.
Don't even get me started on the writer bits. Castle gives her an advance copy of his next book, but the advance is in hardback. I'd have bought it if he said "author copy." And his ex-wife is his "publisher." What does that mean exactly? She demands his next manuscript be on her desk in three weeks, but then she introduces him at a public function. Editors don't leave their caves if they don't have to! I suppose it would be like doctors watching "House" or lawyers watching just about anything on TV.
Castle's relationships with both his mother and his daughter are very cute and natural, making me remember why I like Nathan Fillion so much. It's his Captain Mal look, a blend of patience and exacerbation--like he just can't believe what's being said in front of him. But then he's back with the lame detective lady and he just comes across as painfully smug and useless.
Anyone else watch? Does it get better?
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