Terror

I've never been to a book group. Yes, I was English lit in college, yet I have never been to a book group.
That is all about to change tomorrow.
And I'm terrified! I can't turn off the English Lit critical brain bit when I'm reading an assigned book - as a result of which, my book is covered with color-coded tabbies, I'm creating (and supporting) term papers in my head as I read, I'm doing outside research, and I'm terrified that I'll have nothing to discuss when I get there because I literally cannot process things like 'did you like the book' or 'did you like the character of Carrie' because my head clicks into 'what does the work have to say on consumerism at the turn of the century - particularly as regards women and/or concerns traditionally associated with the feminine?' and 'how does this work compare to Willa Cather's The Song of the Lark as regards the advancement of a woman as artist - particularly in regards to the protaganists' relationship to men?' (to the extent that Carrie is a protaganist, by the way, which, feel free to discuss).

Keep it coming!

The new Harry Potter book covers have been released - the one I'll be buying is here. I'm excited to see that Ron and Hermione hit the cover art at last! And don't think I won't be analyzing the imagery in an attempt to determine bits of the story.

Bereft.

Battlestar Galactica. Gone. Nothing until 2008. I can't even string words together - I'm left without a television obsession to stand on - no Deadwood, no Battlestar Galactica. Gilmore Girls is finishing off its 7 year run with an inadequate swoop right back to THE EXACT SAME PLACE we were at the end of Season 4 (thanks again AS-P, you wanker). Veronica Mars is changing its format. 24 is all right, but I'm used to watching them on DVD, and I just don't find them as good doled out in weekly doses - with commercials yet. And Top Design? Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks. It sucks so hard that I can't even watch it out of misplaced Project Runway loyalty. And while I'll continue to watch The Riches, I note a precipitous drop in my interest level anytime My Pretend Husband is not on screen.

Sigh.

Thank goodness the summer movies approacheth - and the drive-in is already re-opened, so that is something. I can certainly look forward to Captain Jack Sparrow, Venom-infested Spidey, Ratatouille, Order of the Phoenix, Oceans 13 and anything else involving absurd outsized explosions and giggles. But these are one-offs - inadequate (at least until I know exactly how much Cap'n Jack runs around the World's End with arms flailing madly) to support a full blown obsession.

And then, of course, there is the last Harry Potter - sweet sorrow indeed - I'm in the middle of the first prepatory re-read. But again, at some point on or about July 23 (release date plus reading time) it'll all be over but the weeping.

Sigh redux. What does one do with a life absent a healthy obsession?

My Pretend Husband Enters the Law

And I'm fascinated to see which direction they go with this. Episode 2 of The Riches is right here. (As is Episode 1).

If you want to see what my brain looks like when it reads code provisions? Watch for Eddie reading code at the bar in Episode 2. Sweet Jesus, I could swear the man crawled inside my head, pulled out my whole internal voice and attitude, and then gave it actual voice and physicality. I watched it 6 times, and cracked up every damn time. Even now, I cannot think about it too closely, because I'll snigger. In public. Which then appears to be Sniggering Without Cause - which is just never good.

Anyway here is this grifter who has entered the law and reads code in my voice - which causes me to wonder - which way are they going to go? Tele-reality clearly states that The Law is just one Exciting Courtroom Exchange after another - usually as a direct result of the information gleaned by The Dedicated Lawyer during the Exciting And Dangerous Sleuthing she/he engaged in mere moments prior to said Exciting Courtroom Exchange. In reality?

Not so much.

But will this be the series that shows that the law is a deathly dull grind 99% of the time (110% of the time if it is corporate)? Will Eddie hate it and want to leave, but be trapped in the vile profession because of all the benefits the salary can provide for his wife and family?

I doubt I'll be seeing that. (But they so easily could show me that. They have the set-up in place for telling that story. ) (But I'm sure they won't. Sigh.)

Annoying Man

I'm at the end of my rope (and it is only March) as re Annoying Man. The weather is nicer in Chicago (at least temporarily - curse you rapidly falling temperatures) which has resulted in longer walks for the Tedster. One of the favorite walks (Teddy pretty much picks which way he wants to go on the way out, and then I have to drag, cajole and direct on the way back) is down to a big beach about 4 blocks from my house. Which, alas, is the haunt of Annoying Man.

As a side note, let me just say that talking does not come easily for me (this will no doubt surprise even those who know me) but it is true - I have to gear up to talk - I need to prepare my mind to engage verbally with other people. This was a big adjustment when I got Teddy (who, as aforementioned, is adorable) because people would talk to me on the street. This, I am not used to. It is like being spoken to in the gym, or while waiting in a line - sure, it is public space, but I feel like I should get to exist in a bubble in the midst of that space. Now I am used to making the correct responses to the normal chit-chat amongst other dog walkers and those sans dog who want to know Teddy's breed or age. So I'm saying I'm not a complete verbal idiot.

BUT then there is Annoying Man. He hangs out at the beach, with his dog, and I swear to you he lies in wait for people. I hasten to add that this is not just me, he just spends his entire dog walking time chatting people up. In fact, his last dog passed away, so now he is walking Excuse For Human Contact Number Two.

Last summer I was still my way around in the whole dog-walking-chit-chat social norms, so I would stand and talk to him for a while. But this year, I'm not so much willing to do this. And the social norms do not require it! But how to communicate this essential truth to Annoying Man? I have no clue.

Here is what has not worked:
1. Crossing the street (if he hasn't already collared someone, he will cross over with you). In fact, this morning he came to MEET me on the way to the beach - and there ain't nowhere safe to cross in the long block to the beach.
2. Saying 'have a nice morning' and walking away from him quickly. He follows you. Or, even more dastardly, gets his leash just-so, the effect of which is that his dog is in between you and your dog, so that you are boxed in.
3. Leaving in one's very obvious earphones/radio (and they *are* obvious - earbuds hurt my ears) and not replying (he just asks you again more loudly AND pulls a Bobby Goren 'getting his face all up in your grill to force eye contact' move.)
4. Avoiding eye contact (see above reference to Bobby Goren move).
5. Reading. (Yes, I occasionally read and walk the dog at the same time).
6. Varying the walk schedule. He is, I swear, down there all morning and evening and night. I say a quick prayer of blessing anytime I make it to the beach and he is *not* there. I also say a quick prayer of blessing if someone else is collared first. It is a brutal truth - the whole thing is a 'better him than me' survival mentality down there.

I may be stuck with downright rudeness. But what if even that doesn't work? And what if it does work? Although if he would just clue into a social norm, any fracking social norm, downright rudeness would not be necessary. And clearly, people who cannot clue in to any social norms are deserving of a certain amount of consideration and compassion. But.... How can I manage to avoid feeling guilty if downright rudeness works? (If it doesn't work, clearly I'll have my righteous indignation to keep me warm, so that is some consolation.)

Really, the only thing that is a 100% foolproof is abstinence from the beach.

My Pretend Husband

OK, clearly, ever since Ms. Gooch introduced me to the wonder that is Eddie Izzard, stand-up comedian/executive transvestite, he has been on my Laminated List (tm Friends episode 3.05).

Now, however, I just want to marry him.

The Riches, Monday, FX network - check it out - you've only missed one episode - there is time to get in on the ground floor. And don't just take my word for it - here is the NYT rave.

Moonlighting!

Exciting news! (Preface to the exciting news - I'm a wedding junkie. I wait eagerly for excuses to buy/review wedding magazines and wedding sites. I can obsess for days on what dress to go with which flowers for the hypothetical bride who is determined to walk down the aisle to a full gospel choir rendition of Etta James's "Something's Gotta Hold of Me.")

So, the news - next month I start a new part-time gig as a wedding assistant at my Big And Very Fancy Church. I look forward to observing (and, let's face it, critiquing) all aspects of the ceremony and accoutrement. Happily, I get as much pleasure out of a really well done wedding as I do out of one that is just a disaster. (Although I wouldn't mind a few disasters, as I have not had the opportunity to really observe that many, my friends and family all not only having the sense to throw lovely weddings, but also (which is perhaps more rare) to throw weddings that are very personal.)

I can't believe they will pay me to do this! Not much, true, but...

Exhibit Whatever the Hell We Are Up To

Tips on using a form e-mail to contact people on Match.com (without even going into other issues of content and/or grammar) - don't send this:

saw you liked to play golf . . . 18 holes isnt much of a committment . . besides . . i own part of a hotel on the caribbean near a golf course at the four seasons @ emerald bay so . . .

to someone who doesn't play golf and whose profile contains nary a mention of golf or, indeed, of participation in outdoor sports of any kind. And also?

Don't send it twice.

New Favorite!

Long story short - a failed Wikipedia search for the concept of Fruitcart (something to yell at the screen when it becomes clear that a car chase is going to involve tipping over some sort of vendor's cart) led to a broader search, which led to my new favorite Wiki - all about TV/Comic Book/Anime/Video Game tropes.

Not only is it fun to read actual wiki-nitions of terms that I commonly use (i.e. Redshirt, Cousin Oliver, Jumping the Shark, Buffy Speak) but whole new terms such as The Sorting Algorithm of Evil, The Scrappy, Chekhov's Gun, Spikeification (the wiki notes that Al from Deadwood is fascinating because, despite some Spikeification through the Blow Job Monologues, he remains a Magnificent Bastard. I ask you, were truer words ever spoken? And is it not why we love him?)

Best of all, however, is finding the phrase Stuffed Into A Fridge which is the description of my least favorite trope of all time, the clumsy use of which accounts for a good 95% of my hatred for Braveheart.

The microwave saga

So, as I reported, I purchased a shiny red microwave which sat in my trunk while I tried to decide whether I could bear to have it in my kitchen.

Then (not reported) I returned it.

Then I shopped for it again, but decided against it.

Then, this weekend I bought it again and brought it up the stairs to my kitchen and unpacked it.

Now I don't know how I lived without it. I can heat Teddy's food in 30 seconds.

30 seconds!!!