Electric Love

Sorta says it all, ay? #TheyGetMe #InA90sKindaWorldImGladIGotMyGirls

And since you guys brought up TV shows and the fact that I watch a crap-ton of them when I’m not in a season of reading (although I sort of consider film, tv and books reading) or marathon-writing: Being Human UK how COULD you and Being Human US why DO you. Still exist. ::ahem::

And also, bring back Apartment 23 (or just James Van… wait, I have to look up how to write his name correctly) and Alphas – which is misleading because Alphas isn’t cancelled (RIGHT?!) but speaking of cancellations, please don’t quit Deception. Even though you probably should because honestly, how much more could there be. But don’t. Do a girl a solid.

And now they’re just toying with us on the whole Danny-Mindy thing. TOYING WITH US.

I’ll accept that Smash can feel redundant but unless or until you get me a show about marching band, I’ll keep it. And Nashville.

Community feels like it’s quaky but I was pretty happy with Partner and Hoolihan.

Shows I will not talk about: The Following, Scandal.

Favorite show: Bob’s Burgers. Like, seriously. Unless you want me to jump headlong into a day’s worth of quotes, we should leave it alone. It’s as bad as my love of the sixth and seventh season of The Simpsons. And the Mountain of Madness episode.

And then in my SPARE time. I slap kitties.

That’s what I do whenever anyone’s wearing a hat. Now.

 

Every Boy And Every Girl

Little ways I try to spice up my life that you may also try:

A) Using light gamer-speak in real life conversations so that it doesn’t seem like forever since I leveled my girl on Allods because wow this part is an infuriating grind and how come Josh has a ship and I don’t but also seriously, can we be done with the kill infinity of this or that beast quests?

Example: Calling out “wife-aggro” when I want my husband to come here.

Example 2: Saying I’m going “afk” when neither I nor the other party were at a keyboard to begin with. It’s good times.

B) Watching Elementary and finally getting to be a part of the whole Sherlock Holmes thing, which – no matter what interpretation I’d tried – I previously could NOT get into. I love Watson being Joan, I love their relationship, I love present-day crime-solving, I love Aidan Quinn (and I’ll never stop, just like he’ll always be a Ludlow). All the things. Such good television. Mmm. Not like The Following – whose second episode was admittedly better than the first but baby, that ain’t hard, and as I mentioned to a friend (so you’re seein’ this twice, yo) didn’t have to accost us with the liberal as duct tape use of cliches and so was immediately less eye-roll-inducing.

But what was I saying? Ah yes. I love Elementary. For serial. This from a woman who couldn’t even avoid irritation at the end of Guy Richie’s RDJ version. O_O (Yep. I hate when it goes all Encyclopedia Brown at the end. Shuddup. But also, let’s be friends, RDeej.)

C) Getting back into a season of hard-copy revising. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Nom. So fulfilling, I can’t even. Love it. Pencil, pen, paper, clipboard, love and so on. Does the body good. Ah. Now I’m just sighing and twirling my hair around my finger. Hm.

Mm.

 

 

Go Home, The Following!

I wish instead of being able to capitalize all of the letters, I could instead make them so tiny that you could SEE MY RAGE. (Through squinting.)

Are we still doing this, The Following?! Early morning call after late night prison break?!

“We need you back.”

“But I’m not an agent anymore. I’m drinking myself to sleep every night to escape the nightmares associated with everything I’ve seen in my celebrated career that ended badly!”

“I know things didn’t end well with the Bureau,” said every caller ever. “But you’re the only one who can PFFFFFFFFFFFFT!

STOP. STOP IT. No more! Oh and you were seriously injured in the line of duty, too? HAVE YOU NO DECENCY?!

::ahem:: Pardon me. I’ve lost my head. Where are my manners. ::shuffles papers::

I’m sorry. I’m upset the way one can only be when one has hoped. And I did, friends. I truly tuned in hoping – nay, DESIRING – to be *destroyed* by this show. You heard me right. That’s what I was signing up for. I didn’t realize it would be death by cliche, with moments – snatches of milliseconds, rather – of possibility.

….we’ve gotta stop meeting this way! This blog is quickly devolving into that place where I just yell at people who are innocently continuing their daily lives with no consideration of my irrational anger, and rightly so.

Okay, quick, here’s something I like!

Wait. That probably…didn’t make me seem any less craycray. Hmm.

 

Hangin’ On Like A Yo-Yo

And then anyway.

I killed a character on Sims 3 to spice things up. >.> I just think you guys should know what kind of person I am today.

Other things:

1) Pretty sure every one of those ~400 words for the new WIP was a false start. So. Pfffffffffffft.

2) I ask my dog questions and he answers me. >.> Seriously. Otherwise how would I know when he needs to go outside vs. to be given more water. (It’s like when you hear a toddler babbling but their mom is answering them like they’re making sense. Which obviously they are…to the mom.) #ThisIsNormal #ThatWasntAQuestion

3) My tiny big sister, Jen-the-Twin, who BY THE WAY IS A MODEL NOW BUT DON’T TELL HER I TOLD YOU YET, is in Canadia but not near me. Which. Sux.

4) I’m all caught up on Alphas, which is a show loved by my hubs and I. Malik Yoba, David Straitharn, a lead character who’s not neuro-typical AND Callum Keith Rennie (spoiler alert: …)?! Right. You had me at hello. AND despite being on SyFy (whose name makes me wanna punch it excessively), it manages to be well done visually AND plot/dialogue-wise. Which just proves they’re superheroes, I think.

Super, but human?! Is that the tagline, Syfy?! (Dumb.)

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

 

Settle, Blood Pressure. Settle.

Yet again, I’ve lost interest in a tv show because it completely offended me. I’d say it sucks but since I’ve lost all interest…I guess it is what it is. ::stabs self for saying that::

There’s a huge downside to being so present on Twitter. (This is related.) To keeping up with social discourse and the virtual world in general. I’m a Christian – this is where you jump to a conclusion over which I have no control, by the way – which means I gave/give my life to Christ because I am overwhelmed/compelled based on what He did first. And I’m also a pretty social person, if having Facebook, twitter and a blog are any indication. Sometimes A lot of the time, I am keenly aware of being shut up. Opinions that are entirely different from mine AND criticize mine are extremely popular. Rampant. What do you do if you’re not really online just to listen to people’s arguments and defend yourself? You “ignore” a lot of stuff.

Like the fact that I’ve watched two shows in two days where the matter-of-fact declaration of old world evolution was used to undermine the opinion of another and the issue of what constitutes scientific certainty was never introduced. The issue of scientific faith was never discussed. In fact the person being attacked knew nothing about their belief, either. We’ll rely on everyone’s public school education and cursory instruction of the world and that is ACADEMIC and we’ll say “that’s what the Bible says” and that’s THEOLOGY. No, it was just presented as crazy and small-minded. That’s certainly not bullying. It’s not shoving an ideology down anyone’s throat while criticizing their beliefs. >.> Wait.

Lemme set the record straight: I did not write the Bible. (Surprised?) God is, absolutely, absolutist. Another revelation: I am no more God than you are. I do choose to conform to His likeness instead of the world’s. I can’t change to suit you, just as you’re loudly declaring that you refuse to change to suit “me”. (I’m always talking to that guy, Editorial You.)

Even right now, I’m like, nope, don’t wanna get into that. I guess the question is do we both have the right to our beliefs or am I supposed to shut mine up because they offend you and not remind anyone that I am routinely offended and then no one’ll identify that as being what it is – hypocrisy and about a dozen other things. We BOTH have an ideology. Assuming you don’t is to say you are neutral/you are right and then to lambast me for saying I’m right makes my head explode and I’m like let’s both assume we hold the burden of proof!

This is more personal than I usually go. Not for any reason but that this is my ridiculous space. I have journals for introspection and the like. But the world will run you over if you let it. Jesus was pretty clear about that one.

[Insert a million other words]

 

My Name Is Mr Stefano. I Am An Italian Man.

Okay, just this once I’m gonna tell you what the heck the title means. So the title was originally gonna be the Constable character (played by Cedric the Entertainer) saying, “You know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking who got me out of bed at ten in the morning for this.” But then I was like, that’s really long and would require explanation. So then of course, I thought of my other favorite lines from A Series Of Unfortunate Events and voila! Mr. Stefano.

Clearly not an Italian man.

I feel like I should say something normal now.

::spit bubbles::

No, I read…about the fact that no Pulitzer was awarded for fiction this year. Which…a lot of people were upset about. I tried to get on the righteously indignant side, I really did. Facebook knows! I shared TWO articles about it!

>.>

Okay, I guess I just don’t get what you’d be upset about. Like. It’s there to what, promote worthy literature as discerned by a jury and then ultimately decided by a reputable committee? (Maybe? As in, is that the process, I’m not entirely sure at the moment.) So, the thing that many writerly types seemed to be upset about is the fact that this award forever changes the trajectory of the winning author’s career. (That’s a quote but I can’t remember the source.) And sell a bunch more books. So they feel it’s not fair to not give that to someone this year.

That logic, I gotta be honest, is lost on me. The prize is really awesome so regardless of whether you feel anyone reached the standard for which we created the award, GIMME. Is that about it? Yeah, I can’t get on board with that.

I also can’t get on board with the audacity and horridaciousness-osity-ment of the Maloof brothers. If you’re from Sacramento, let’s just show solidarity with five minutes of uninterrupted, angry eye contact. And then not tell anyone what we’re talking about for fear that the anger will only intensify and horrible crimes might be committed. In our thoughts.

 

One More ‘Gain

A number of you may rightly be wondering how yesterday’s post didn’t include the X-Men theme. My only explanation is that I was referring to cartoons….and X-Men was real talk. Seriously, this is another one that I started watching again from episode one a few years ago (though my husband quickly ran through them without me) and the first episode of this show was better than any X-Men movie until First Class. No. Joke. But then all our “serious” cartoons back then were jam-packed with story. Now the only thing that compares is anime, it seems.

Anyway. Taste this.

So good.

Okay, one more for the road. Then I’m off to …watch cartoons.

 

Whoops, I’m Crying

I just had the frustrating experience of seeing that someone’d hosted a “favorite cartoon theme song” poll and that all the voters had failed epically. ::points to the door, eyes closed:: GET. OUT.

So, seeing as this is the most recent display of wickedness witnessed, I knew what I had to do. I had to correctly identify the best ones. Part of the problem, I think is buttoning down the era. I’m 29 and when I say childhood, I mean MY childhood, not my 25yo brother’s. Yes, four years makes a difference in cartoon-ville. If you take the late 80s out or go as far as mid 90s, you’ve ruined it.

Without further ado, the top five (because three is just stupid):

(5) Darkwing Duck

This one secures its rightful place for two reasons. (1) In 1991, everything had to be funk-ay! If you couldn’t do the running man to it, was it really cool? Ask yourselves that question, friends. This might even be classified with early hip hop. ::ducks:: (2) The super hardcore “Let’s get dangerous” is said BY the duck, WITH the slight lisp. ::shakes head:: Awesome.

(4) Gummi Bears

This one? Seriously, this was an era where jingle singers took their jobs *deathly* seriously. Was one vocalist enough? NO. Hit those harmonies! I mean, does he take it up or does he take it UP? Now let’s take it down a notch and let those synthesized instruments carry us. Now bring it home, guys!

(3) Ducktales

Aaand my husband and I sing this on something of a regular basis. It’s pretty nectar. (“Did you just make that up?” – “It’s a volleyball term.”) NOT PONY TAILS OR COTTON TAILS, NO DUCK TALES!

(2) Jem

As you can tell, we’re getting to the good stuff here. Pretty sure they need to play this on the radio. I’m still singing songs from this show and from the cassette tape that came with my sister’s Misfit doll. Man. I can’t even pretend. This. Was. Our. Jam. Couple of years ago, I started watching this show from the beginning? Man. WHY was I not doing it ironically. (Because it rocked.)

(1) David the Gnome

“It was an act….of whiiiimsy.” No, for real. I might cry. All ridiculousness and half-joking aside. ::straight face:: This is the most magical, beautiful, wonderful thing ever. In every wish… and dream… and happy home, you’ll find the kingdom of the gnomes. DO YOU HEAR THAT? That is PRECIOUS! (Um…Christopher Plummer narrated. So.) O_O

 

::sniffle:: I’m glad we did this.

 

I’ve Got A Lovely Bunch Of Coconuts

Sometimes I think writers have all the fun. Take last night for instance. My current WIP is a previous novel, which is to say it’s a rewrite. (Yes, we do that. Okay, not all of us. … Does hive-mind exist for *any* group?) So anyway. It’s something. By which I mean, I can’t translate what I mean and I don’t know if you’d care anyway. But it’s legitimately a rewrite and I had the most fun idea ever, which turned out to be as much fun in execution as I expected – and how often does *that* happen? Two words: Compare. Documents.

Seriously, it’s consuming, and I’m only 29k in. It also confirms that it’s not just me – it really is different. You’ve either already experienced this because you’re a writer or you’re not a writer so you don’t care to do this. (Two options. That’s it. I’ve decided.) But this is how I geek out so I shared anyway, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

You know what Word *should* have? A word-count-to-this-point function, as in one where you right click after a word and it tells you the word count up to that point. ‘Cause that’d be sweet. … I should sell that.

And then someday I’ll talk to you about the two Sams of Being Human (except I’ll refer to them by their character names of Aidan and Josh, which is less confusing and also I’m referring to the “American” version and it’s SO not Boston so as my Jen-the-twin says, let’s give up that ghost ::snort::) and how everything’s more fun when you and your sister who live in different countries watch it at different times and then have cryptic Facebook conversation threads about it. Oh my job, we should totally do a vlog together somehow if that’s technologically possible. But for now, let me close with this: sleepiness is the new drunk. That or I’m legit dying. Like sooper close to death right now and I should probably *not* try to go back to writing. Can you imagine me just writing pages and pages of nonsense?

*crickets*

 

No, Seriously. Stop.

Aaand it’s time for another installment of What I Really Think. Not that my usual nonsense and the inane ramblings of delirium are any less me – DON’T YOU REDUCE ME, READER! – but here’s something that’s quite important to me.

Privilege. Oh, it’s so encompassing and blinding and crippling, really. And there’s more than one way to be privileged. In the context of this conversation, privilege does not refer only to the dominant default class (ie White American, and yes I sometimes or often capitalize social class identifiers and why not), it also refers to the default coupling (ie same-race-romance, whether White, Black, et cetera).

Here’s what happens: My sister, Jen-the-Twin, and I are watching old mash-up videos from Boy Meets World featuring Shawn and Angela.

Because who didn’t love Boy Meets World? No one, that’s who.

Privilege says something like: “You guys are obsessed with interracial couples.”

Excuse me?

Riiight. Here’s the deal, mon petit. Everyone who fits into the default gets the privilege of seeing themselves and their love story told and retold and retold and represented and repeatedly replayed on every station, in every movie, no matter the year. There’s nothing to think about. When you are not underrepresented, you don’t think about it, let alone “obsess” over it. You know no scarcity. (Now, the sociologist in me wants to g’head and point out that even if I’m not White/Black/whomever is constantly being portrayed – as long as I am in a homophenotypical relationship, I can relate to those couplings and it satisfies me. ::ahem:: And the same goes if we’re not the same race, but we don’t GET that we’re not the same race but no worries, I’m not going into Identity Crisisland today.)

The thing is – everyone wants to see themselves in love. That’s not the discussion. We all watch films and/or read literature and/or frequent the theatre and RARELY can you get taken in by a story that lacks all romance, subtle or not. So we can agree that the desire for a love story isn’t where my “obsession” comes into being, yes? Apparently, because it’s easy to come by, same-race romance doesn’t constitute an “obsession”, no matter how much you like it, watch it and are satisfied by its portrayal. No, no. You can only be “obsessed” with that which stands out*, I’ve found. So, my obsession is in enjoying what everyone enjoys – to have myself reflected in the story. O_o Hmm.

I write interracial, I watch interracial and neither of those do I do wholly discriminately. (If I only watched interracial, I’d have like three shows, you guys.) The point is, not only am I going to continue to be normal, I’m going to point out what’s ridiculous about being so privileged that you fail to hear the foolishness in what you’re implying.

[Insert entire thesis on related subjects - because I'm being really good right now and I need you to acknowledge the height of my self-restraint, people.]

*And before we start the discussion of oh-em-gee-there’s-a-million-interracial-couplings-now-a-days, let’s not. First of all, it’s comparative thinking and second of all, just in my lifetime, it was few and far between and always issue-oriented. Anybody remember the very special episodes of Moesha? (Was that really her name?!)

Point being, I love difference. This isn’t about saying we’re all the same. It’s about saying – before God and as far as Satan’s concerned – we’re all the same. So I’m gonna keep reading, writing, watching and loving what I do until people stop thinking it’s “cute” – i.e. until it’s no longer an issue. ::waves::