Lair of the Lost Girl

Okay. I'll admit that Contemporary/Lyrical is not my favorite dance style, so I may be coming into this a bit biased. That said....

Some lyrical routines are beautiful. I accept that. But do they all need to be turgid and depressing and serious and A Story About Something Tragic? We have dances about breast cancer, and dances about dead fathers, and dances about addiction, and tragedy, and loss, and people rolling around on the floor flailing their misery to the four corners of the earth and making us cry....

Is there a law against happy lyrical dance?

Just once - ONCE - I want to see a lyrical routine about a puppy and a kitten playing outside in the sunshine. Or about two siblings in a healthy, functional family, dancing about how awesome life is. Or just about anything positive and upbeat.

Please?

Admittedly, I have never seen the show in question - but having seen commercials for it, and having seen their cameo appearance on Top Chef Masters, I have come to the following realization:

The Real Housewives Of Wherever is the banana moon pie of reality television.

Banana moon pies, for those who have not had the dubious pleasure of encountering them, are a snack food that is not even close to what it claims to be. A banana moon pie has no banana. It has no moon. And it is not a pie. It's... it's just weird. Cake-like stuff with Whipped Filling and pasty yellow coating, but no banana. It is, in fact, none of the things in its name.

Real Housewives are not real. Nor are they housewives. And I would question whether they're actually from New Jersey, or Atlanta, or wherever. I have met real housewives of New Jersey. They wear tennis shoes, and shop at Pathmark, and sometimes they have frosted hair and wear too much gold jewelry, but they do not bear any resemblance to those shrink-wrapped, varnished liches doing their best to resemble their Bratz dolls phylacteries.

On the other hand, I'm pretty sure no one would tune in to watch a tv show where a 45-year-old woman in a Beadazzled sweatsuit made Rice Krispie treats and went to work as a bookkeeper at a company that manufactures pipe fittings, then came home to clip coupons for frozen waffles and Hamburger Helper.

Then again, maybe they would....

It is absolutely worth sitting through this entire movie to watch the one utterly adorable scene where the grumpy farmer prances around his living room, dancing and singing to cheer up his poor little sick pig.

I'll admit the rest of the movie isn't that bad either, but honestly, this scene is the real reason I watch it....

The up-side of having work slow down for a little while is that I'm finally getting to partake of some forms of entertainment that I haven't for quite some time. When things are busy and hectic, paradoxically I wind up finding it hard to take what little time off I have to amuse myself with purely-entertaining stuff. I get so wrapped up in Doing Stuff and Being Busy that even when I'm not at work or finishing vital projects, I wind up feeling the need to continue in that mindset, and work on hobbies or crafts that accomplish stuff, too - making sweaters and afghans, tackling giant stitchery projects, baking cakes, and things like that. I enjoy those hobbies and projects, but they're still active things. Taking time to sit down and relax feels like cheating, or being lazy.

This past week, though, was slow enough on work that I managed to get my fill of active hobbies, and then have time left over. And eventually, even I can be convinced that, in the absence of other important stuff to do, it's okay to take some actual downtime. And, in the process, maybe actually watch tv instead of just having it on in the background, or sit down and read a book for more than ten minutes at a stretch.

Some time ago, a friend suggested that I watch 'Being Human,' but we didn't get BBC America at the time. Later, another friend suggested it as the perfect show for me, and I kind of filed it in the back of my head. When a third friend suggested it, and mentioned that he had the entire first season on his DVR and free time that matched mine, I decided to finally act on it.

I'll admit, a large part of the enjoyment of the day was having nothing to do but curl up on the sofa with an old friend. But even aside from that, this is one of the best TV shows I've seen in longer than I can remember. I was afraid, given the premise (a vampire, a werewolf, and a ghost move into an apartment together) that it'd just be cheesy sitcom humor, but it's not. There's an element of horror and seriousness that I didn't expect, and what humor there is seems to come more from the juxtaposition of the characters and the situation, rather than slapstick or witty banter (I love witty banter, but sometimes a change of pace can be nice). And the dialogue is as realistic as possible, given the situation, and I kind of want to invite all the characters over for dinner and to join my gaming group. I love it. I want more.

As for books.... a few weeks ago I was wandering through Barnes & Noble - I can't quite remember why, other than, well, it's always fun to wander through bookstores, and I saw 'The Child Thief' sitting in the new releases section of the science fiction ghetto, and I fell in love with it on first sight. It was big, and dark, and heavy, and the cover art was just gloriously spooky. (Yes, when it comes to books, I am fairly superficial in my initial opinion-forming.) When I read the dust-jacket and realized it was, in fact, a modern urban horror/gothic retelling of Peter Pan, I was completely sold - I have had a long-term love affair with urban horror and fantasy, and I'll admit I have also been desperate for any urban fantasy that doesn't involve a main character who turns out to be a sparkly-eyed, tramp-stamped demon-sucking Mary Sue who really just wants to buy designer shoes and bang her boss/nemesis. There have been exceptions, but they've been few and far between. This seemed *perfect.* Except, of course, for the fact that it was a hardcover by an unknown author, and I couldn't justify the price.

But my library came through for me a few days ago, thanks to the miracle of Interlibrary Loan, and Monday afternoon I settled in to start reading it. I was a little afraid at first, though, that it wouldn't live up to my hopes. Gothic horror Peter Pan? It does kind of sound like a recipe for disaster.

It's not, though. It's even better than I thought it would be. It's creepy and dark and full of Celtic mythology and urban grittiness and characters that are complex enough to be engaging, and a world that's clearly more complex than what we see on the surface, and the kind of writing that I can just fall into for a hundred pages without noticing.

Every year I seem to find one book that knocks my socks off, and becomes the defining story of that year - 'World War Z,' 'Soon I Will Be Invincible,' 'Dies the Fire'... I had kind of written off 2009 as a no-world-shaking-books year. It's late, but I am so, so glad to be proven wrong.

And right now, I think I hear a mug of tea, a Butterfingers candy bar, and Chapter 15 calling my name....

After the tragic letdown that was The Time Traveler's Wife, a week of nightmares, and a challenging week at work, I wasn't up for much beyond sitting on the sofa and staring at the television. I didn't honestly expect anything good, and I figured that watching 'Mamma Mia' would probably put me to sleep or, if nothing else, let me grump in misery.

After watching it, I have just a few things to say:

1) Oh dear God, that is marvelous.
2) When I grow up, I want to be Meryl Streep.
3) Colin Firth is totally on my List, somewhere between Will Smith and Rhett Butler. (Okay, I kind of knew that after 'Bridget Jones' Diary,' but the dance scene in the plaza cinched it for me.)
4) Did I mention this was marvelous? Not intellectual or deathless art or much of anything other than incredible fun.
5) I will never look at Mrs. Weasley in the same way again.

This may just need to join 'Singing In The Rain' on my list of Automatic Mood Reboot Movies....

I have long ago realized that I'm not a Star Trek fan. I'm a science fiction fan in general, though to be honest my tastes run more towards fantasy than SF, and I'm a Next Gen fan - it was the major genre TV show available when I was in high school, and it gave me something to watch and talk about with my fellow F&SF fan friends. But multiple attempts to introduce me to other parts of the franchise have repeatedly met with failure. I've seen maybe two episodes of original Trek, and about the same for every other incarnation, and none of them have really appealed to me.

I'm okay with this, though several of my friends have repeatedly tried to convince me that if I just try harder, or watch more episodes, that eventually I will come to love DS9/Voyager/the movies. (Unsurprisingly, noone has tried to convince me that I could ever come to love Enterprise; not even my devoted Trek-fan husband.) While I'm sure it's technically possible, I've got better things to do with my life than spend hours on end watching a show I don't enjoy in the hopes that someday it'll become fun.

So, when the new movie came out, I wasn't all that eager to see it. I didn't have anything against it; it's just a movie, and not worth spending any energy opposing or disliking. But I didn't feel the need to expend any effort, time, or money watching it. On the other hand, I also realized that for reasons of cultural literacy alone I'd need to see it eventually. So I figured I'd get it over with, and went to go see it tonight.

And I spent the first half hour full of an uncomfortable combination of confusion and smug amusement, asking my husband pointed questions about the questionable logic of Vulcan architecture and the casting of Winona Ryder in anything related to a Trek franchise. I fully expected to become irredeemably bored shortly after that, and spend the rest of the film either napping or building strange towers from the appetizers we had ordered at the full-restaurant-service theater.

But somehow, at some point, it pains me to admit this, but... it kind of became fun.

I'm not saying that the plot made sense, or that it was deep, or Great Drama, or anything radical like that, but it was... you know, cute. Entertaining. Some of the acting was pretty keen, and it made me smile, and sometimes that's enough.

I'm not saying that I'm going to suddenly become a convert, or develop a taste for back episodes of Voyager. But if they made a tv series with the new characters, I might give it an episode or two. Just out of curiosity, of course.

Every time I think I've had it with this show, that the bad science is just too bad and the format is too repetitive and did I mention the bad science? - every time I'm just about ready to give up, they pull a rabbit out of their hat and make me fall in love with it again.

And every time I think I can't love the show any more than I already did, they manage to squeeze one more drop of awesome in there to make it even better.

God bless David Boreanaz, for making me willing to give a non-genre show a try....

I have, in my hot little hands, what is quite possibly the worst book ever written. It is an atrocity against God and man, and it is all mine, mine, mine.

A few days ago I was scheduled to work a fairly long shift at a clinic I haven't had much experience with, and when I arrived there I was informed that I had a grand total of three appointments to fill my entire day. I tried to be good. I helped take care of the hospital cat, looked for charts to call back, and offered to help in any way possible. Then I read the medical journal I had brought with me. Then I played with their parrot for a while.

Eventually, I broke down and took out the novel I carry with me to read on my rare lunch breaks - only to realize that I had less than 40 pages left to read. I can, when I'm utterly engrossed in an author's wordsmithing, linger over a good story - read it slowly, savoring every phrase. But I cannot, even under the best circumstances, stretch 40 pages of Christopher Moore to fill seven hours. In this case, I couldn't even stretch it until lunch.

Luckily, there was a CVS next door to the clinic, and I was given permission to go out and kill time offsite. No problem, I thought. CVS has a book section; while it's mostly best-seller junk I should be able to find something by Stephen King or Laurel K. Hamilton that'll at least carry me through until the end of the day.

You'd think so, right?

You'd be wrong. What I found was row after row of imitation Tom Clancy, interspersed with atrocious romance novels with titles like 'Passion's Pirate' and 'Love's Torrid Tapestry,' everything Jude Devereaux ever wrote, and.... IT.

IT happens to be 'Rhett Butler's People,' the authorized companion to 'Gone With the Wind' that retells the whole story from Rhett's point of view. Including the story of his harsh, misunderstood father, his rebellious and independent sister, and his best friend, the son of freed slaves, who (in the author's own words) "understood young Rhett like noone else."

Yes, true friends and readers, I am now the proud owner of what promises to be 687 pages of 'Gone With the Wind' slashfic. My horror at the mere existence of this book was matched only by my horror at the realization that I absolutely had to buy it, and read it, if only to know just what the heck the author was doing to my beloved characters.

It's almost as bad as I had feared. True, the levels of suckitude that it *could* achieve are much greater than what it has reached so far (given that I'm only halfway through), but... it's bad. Maybe even worse than 'Scarlett' (the authorized sequel, which I am ashamed to admit that I also read, for about the same reasons). There's a gratuitous sister, a gratuitous love trapezoid with the sister and her best friend that is a cheap knockoff of the Melanie-Ashley-Scarlett love plot, and several manufactured scenes between Rhett and Scarlett that NEVER HAPPENED, DAMNIT!

But worst of all is the author's need to explain and justify Rhett Butler, to convince the reader that Rhett is, in fact, deep down inside, a sensitive, caring, kind man who loves birdwatching and long walks in the sunset and who is truly just seeking to nurture the little boy inside him who never got the love he wanted from his father. Emo Rhett is saaaad.

This is so wrong that reading those sections almost made my eyes bleed. Rhett Butler needs no explanation, and he does not need a damaged inner child. Part of what makes him such a wonderful character is that he is an unabashed scoundrel. He is strong and passionate and self-aware and the vast and overwhelming majority of his appeal comes from those traits, and the thought of him crying into his best friend's shoulder about how he only ever wanted to be loved just.... bleah. It's almost enough to keep me from noticing the author's subtle attempts to make over Scarlett as a witty, intellectual yet demure gentlewoman.

Atrocity. Slander. And I can't stop reading it....

I think I may need to call in sick to work tomorrow, just so I can finish it, and then watch the One True Movie to get the taste out of my mouth. I just pray to all the Powers That Be that they never feel the need to remake that.....

Edited to add: Page 355 - gratuitous appearance of Frank and Jesse James. This book may well be the death of me. It is bad, and I must punish it.

I've been invited to a Superbowl Party tonight. This is a first for me. I feel so amazingly tame and mainstream, in a good way. I'm part of Middle American Culture. There's a kinship and a connection with nearly everyone else in the country. Okay, so I don't give two hoots and a holler about the game itself, and I don't really understand how it's played. It'll be a fun social event. My friends will be there, and there will be food and conversation and fun. I was wholeheartedly looking forward to going.

Until I realized the dirty trick that television is playing on me.

Tonight, opposite the game, TNT is running 'Gone With the Wind.' In it's entirety. That's just not fair.

Gone With the Wind. Ohhhh.... Such a glorious story, such amazing actors. And the costumes.... hoopskirts and lace and utterly to die for. Romance, angst, strong women, quotable lines, and gorgeous costumes. And Rhett Butler. I love my boyfriend, and I know he could never be replaced by a fictional character, but he makes something inside me ache.... and did I mention the costumes?

I know I'll have fun at the party, and as my friend pointed out, I can rent 'Gone With the Wind' anytime. But the urge to call off sick and bake a pan of brownies, then spend the night on my sofa, burrowed under a blanket with my cats and my sewing, watching the movie by myself, is disturbingly strong.

I'll go. I'll enjoy it. But I know that, if nothing else, at the precise moment that they're airing the scene when Rhett carries Scarlett up that magnificent spiral staircase, I'll feel it, and miss it. I'm so hopelessly girly....