Maybe You Shouldn't Meet Them...

I make a lousy fangirl. I've been aware of that for some time now. I do not like to meet famous people (especially those who are my age or younger) under the guise of being a 'fan'. I prefer to do it as a journalist or as a businessperson.

Some of the gals I know from the blog went to a convention in Chicago this past weekend where they met some of the people from the show we all watch together. And some of the gals were disappointed that one of the guys seemed standoffish, while others reported he hadn't been feeling well so he wasn't his usual self, while others said he's generally shy so this whole setup tends to be uncomfortable for him.

A digression that ties in: my mom is a huge race car fan. There was an opportunity to meet her favorite driver, and she didn't go. I asked her why. The gist of her response was basically, what if I didn't like him as a person?

That's stuck with me. Why meet them, in the fan perspective, if it turns out they're not going to be very nice? I mean, sure, it's the risk you take when you meet anybody, and I would never say somebody shouldn't meet someone they've long looked forward to meeting. (I drove to Kentucky to meet a horse. Yes, really. But there, the emotional stakes are much smaller. Cigar came to his stall door when I called to him, but I bet he was really hoping I had a peppermint. I didn't take that personally.) I also get that meeting fans can be tiring and stressful, and if you have a bad day it can have repercussions. I get that these guys don't have to go to these conventions. They can take the day off.

So what happens if you're disappointed? Even more so, what happens if you're disappointed and have the opportunity to share it with other fans? I mean, I guess I'd definitely say so if I met somebody famous and he or she was really rude. But does it end up coloring what other people end up thinking about this famous person? Sure.

I guess I'm of the state of mind that if someone is really famous, it would depend on how much it matters to me that they're really nice, and it would also matter HOW I'm meeting them. If they come to my office, I'm in a professional setting, and I feel a little more confident than if I'm going to a convention, where I'm obviously a fan. Interviews are another setting where I have some measure of confidence. I once interviewed Robert Goulet, who was really nice, and I also interviewed Lions running back TJ Duckett and was impressed with his professionalism, especially toward a female interviewer. Then again, I interviewed two Tigers pitchers who obviously thought I was a lightweight, but when I went over to talk to Robert Fick (when he was with the team) he was really nice.

Of course, I had no emotional stake in whether these guys were cool or not, but it was a bonus that they all were.

It also depends on who that person is, too. I'm a lot less likely to meet a matinee idol than I am a jockey, for example - the fan base is smaller and more specialized, and I have never been good with the person I'm meeting thinking, "she must think I'm hot." Or something along that line.

All of that said, I'm glad I didn't go to the convention, even though everybody who went reported having a good time. That makes it easier for me to enjoy the characters and not have a memory of how the actor was, or of how he was supposed to be.

Random Mutterings

I realize someone is going to read the previous post and think they were smothering me. They aren't. The person by whom I felt smothered doesn't even know this blog exists, and so I don't want anyone to feel bad. Trust me, it's not you. It's not even a full smothering. Just a little short of breath. ;-)

And I'm a loner really, in most ways, so it's easy for me to feel a little overwhelmed by people. It takes me such a long time to get to a comfortable place with people - to trust them or want to hang out with them - so I'm a lot of work to be around. I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that that is me, and I'm not weird, and I'm not crazy. I just am who I am.

I'm still chatting with the blog girls, but the drama comes and goes with the changing characters. Unfortunately, the powers that be are messing with my show something fierce - adding two chick characters who are DREADFUL. I really wish Supernatural wasn't on the CW - of course maybe it would have been cancelled by now, BUT it wouldn't be turning into One Tree Hill With Ghosts. Plus they stopped playing classic rock music. I have GOT to find an email address in order to bitch them out something fierce.

I mean, really. If you want to add tough female characters, you just call me and I'll write them for you. My heroine is a verbal badass, although physically not so much. She's getting there, but she can be cheeky with the best of them. I would have written much better characters than what we're getting.

I'm not sure how one human being can have so much STUFF. I tried to clean out my closet, but I wasn't in the right purge mood. Do you know what I mean? I have to be in that right mood to actually go through the closet and get rid of stuff, and I just wasn't there today. I'll have to wait until I get to that place to part with some clothes.

My secret is this - I don't buy any more hangers. And when I run out of hangers, I know it's time to go through the closet and get rid of some stuff. It works, mostly.

Learning Something

The last few weeks have been nothing but crazy! My brother got married and I was in the wedding, two couples I know have broken up, one is getting engaged, and one of my coworkers wants to come over and hang out. So for a while there I was feeling really overwhelmed with everything.

I'm one of those people who knows they're selfish. I know I am. I think it's because I'm in a place where I feel like I'm close to a lot of people, but not the closest person to any of them. So how do I explain this without sounding like I'm feeling sorry for myself? (Which I'm not.) Most of my friends and family members are married and/or have kids, and when the chips are down, those are the people they think of first - and they should! So I've developed a sense of looking out for myself, and often that manifests as selfishness. That, and in the past I used to bend over backwards to make people like me, and as I got older, I got sick of doing that, so I'm a lot more solitary than I used to be, and even more independent than I was growing up.

So when I started feeling just overwhelmed with everything that was going on, I heard me asking myself, "Should I feel this way?" And answering, "No, these people need you and you want to be needed, and so you shouldn't feel this way. You shouldn't be selfish and think about yourself right now. You should be a good friend/family member."

Well, the problem is, I kept feeling that way. And finally it occurred to me: it doesn't matter if it's right or wrong that I feel this way, the fact is, I FEEL THIS WAY. And I have to operate from that assumption, instead of pretending that how I feel must be wrong. Because I was ignoring that I was feeling stressed out, overwhelmed, even a little smothered, and I started feeling really tense and tightly wound. But if I'm not feeling like myself, how can I be a good friend to somebody else?

Let me emphasize, nobody is doing anything wrong. I was honored to be part of the wedding, and I WANT to be a good listener/friend to those people going through breakups to do what I can to help, and be there for the person now planning her wedding. It's not fair for me to lean on these folks and then disappear when they need me. It's just that it happened all at once, and the holidays are coming, and I was getting behind on my preparations. My house was a mess, on top of everything, and that always makes me tense. And I will have been in three weddings in less than a year. Which makes me feel incredibly loved and cared for, and yeah, a little stressed, but that comes with the territory. :-)

So I just said to myself, "Take this weekend and just do what you got to do." So I did. And I turned down some opportunities to get together with friends, and at first I felt guilty. Then I told myself again that it didn't matter if it was right or wrong, I feel the way I feel.

And I already feel a lot better. I got some Christmas shopping done, cleaned up my closet, did some other necessary housecleaning, and generally started to feel back in control of my life. I didn't answer the phone or call anybody. Yeah, I went kind of hermit.

Now I can get back in touch with those people who need someone to talk to and be a better friend to them, and all I've done is taken three days to myself. And I've realized I'm past the age where I should worry about what other people are going to say is right or wrong, but be in tune with how I feel and take care of that, without hurting or neglecting anybody else. I didn't run around telling all of these people, "Don't call me!! I'm stressed because of you!" or something equally asinine and untrue. I just kind of retreated. So nobody else got hurt because of what I decided to do.

But in the process, I think I learned to take a better look inward and respect that how I feel is how I feel, whether it feels right or wrong.

Sunday Driving Monday Through Friday

When I come home from work, I usually take 496, which loops around town and practically drops me on my doorstep. Until recently, 496 used to be 55 miles per hour - which almost NOBODY ever did unless there was a cop in the median - but now it's 70 miles an hour - which is really nice except in a few places where it feels far too fast.

But here's my beef. A lot of people still drive it like it's 55. Which, when you're dealing with people coming home from work, means a lot of unnecessary backups.

Look, I get it. You're used to doing 55-60 and it's a habit. I get that. And I get that a lot of people back when it was 55 still did 70 mph anyway. But if the sun is shining, and you're holding up a line of cars because you insist on STILL doing 55 in the 70, isn't that more than a little silly?

Plus it irritates the crap out of me.

Found My Pants!!!

You might have heard that a few weeks ago I took in my brand new jeans to be hemmed - and the tailor shop lost them. Yes, lost my brand new jeans.

Women everywhere just know how hard it is to find a pair of jeans that fit and look good, so losing a pair you like can make you want to shoot steam out of your ears. And I was about to do so at the tailor shop - thank heavens they got my bridesmaid dress taken care of - until the jeans finally showed up yesterday. And they didn't charge me for the hem. Thank GOD. Cuz I was not looking forward to going back to the Tommy outlet at Great Lakes Crossing and getting another pair. And they wouldn't have been on sale anymore anyway.

I got the jeans excited to wear them to work. Well, at this rate, I won't be GOING to work, if a budget deal isn't reached.

But I'm not going to rant about that. At least in public...

Movie Review - Music and Lyrics

It's a pity when you get a good cast, funny lines and a good idea, and squander it on a mediocre script. Such is the case with Music and Lyrics, a rom-com that's out on DVD.

The plot is pretty simple: Alex Fletcher (Hugh Grant) is the Andrew Ridgeley of an 80s band called Pop, and he can write music, but not lyrics. Sophie Fisher (Drew Barrymore) is the new plant watering girl who overhears a lyrics-writing session, mutters a 'better' line under her breath, and ends up Fletcher's writing partner.

Yeah, that struck me as weird too.

See, Fletcher has an opportunity to pen a song for the next big thing - a sexed up blonde pop tart named Cora who thinks she's spiritual - a sort of amalgam of Britney, Christina, and Shakira, all of whom get name checked in the script. He just can't write the lyrics. In the past that was his musical partner Colin's role, and Colin later ran off with a bunch of Alex's songs and made a mint, while Fletcher fell into obscurity.

So of course now Fletcher has to persuade Sophie to write songs with him so he can get back into the game, even though she doesn't want to, and the trials and tribulations of getting this song to Cora's stage show are what define the movie.

Except, well, they don't. There came a point about 45 minutes in that the movie felt finished to me, but it went on for another 45 minutes with side plots and the usual romantic confusion. And the characters don't always hold true - Sophie is presented early on as deeply peculiar and maybe germophobic, but neither personality trait rears its head later. (I say that because Sophie isn't exactly normal, but then again, you don't cast Barrymore for normal.) And Hugh Grant just plays The Usual - full of heavy blinking, stuttering and twitching, so that's pretty standard.

And in fact that's what the movie is - pretty standard. The lyrics everybody raves about aren't particularly good, the melody is pure bubblegum, the plot wanders around creating obstructions, and the songs are only catchy in that way that makes you want to gouge your own ear drums out about an hour or two later. The exception to the ho-hum is that Grant especially gets some whipcrack hilarious lines - delivered only the way he can deliver them - and the video for 'Pop Goes My Heart' which will inspire some serious flashbacks if you lived through the 80s British Invasion. Oh, and Grant's voice is pretty good, and Barrymore can carry a tune although, delightfully, she sounds pleasantly average, which I found refreshing.

Don't get me wrong, I like Hugh Grant - to a degree, although I think he looks a little thin and craggy here - and I find something very appealing about Drew Berrymore. She's got a kind of luminosity that transcends what seem to be her negative hallmarks: unflattering makeup and hair that constantly needs brushing. I keep wishing we could see her made up to showcase her unique appeal. And they have pretty good chemistry, so that works for the movie, even if you know going in that they're going to hook up, it's just a question of when and how.

An opportunity was missed here to talk about the rise and fall of music's best and brightest - or at least most successful - between Fletcher's Pop and Cora. But I get that that might be too heavy for a romantic comedy, so it's never explored, even though the movie might have been weightier and more worthwhile had that been discussed.

In other casting notes, Brad Garrett has a smidgen of fun as Alex's manager and Kristen Johnston is at her full-bore insane best as Sophie's sister. And Campbell Scott is nearly unrecognizable as an old writing teacher of Sophie's in a side plot that was completely unnecessary. When I realized it was him, all I could think was, "This is the same guy who said 'I was just nowhere near your neighborhood'?"

Only rent this one if you like any of the leads and can take your romantic comedies with a heavy dose of cheese.

Animal Trauma: None, although I can't say the same for the plants.

Overall: Some good lines and an 80s flashback can't make up for a lackluster script. Two roses out of five.

The Battlestar Bandwagon

I did it, yes I did. I got on the Battlestar Galactica bandwagon. A buddy loaned me Seasons one and two, and I just finished one. Damn, it's a good show. Heavy, you can't watch more than an episode or two in one sitting, really, not like some of those shows where you can watch hours and hours because you don't need to absorb that much.

It deals with death, and life, and emotion, and war, and loyalty, and really kick ass fighting, and solid strong characters. We only know four or five Cylon models, and there are 12. And I think what they really want is to FEEL like we do, and that's the one thing they lack - the gradients of emotion that humans have. It's much more serious than its predecessor, and the special effects are pretty good on top of everything else.

One of my friends liked the old show and says she just can't get into the groove of this one, now that Starbuck is a woman. I gotta tell you, Starbuck is a ballbuster of the most fun kind - she smokes cigars, she picks fights, and we just learned she really wants to shag Apollo. Of course, if you've seen him, you would too. I'd sign up for that.

There's an episode where Starbuck ends up with a Cylon Raider fighting ship, and she's really playing against no one but she does a great job. It's fun. Apollo is a little more wooden at times; I think it's because the actor is British doing a darn good American accent. But the rest of the cast is really good, and besides, you gotta love a President named Laura.

Susie, Did You Just Call Australia?

Somebody's kid called my answering machine the other day. I don't know who it was; at first all I could hear was coughing, then voices, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. All I could figure was that some kid had ahold of Mom's cell and dialed me. It was pretty funny; it went on for a couple minutes.

Either that or Rosa's friends tried her again at this number. After a frakkin' year you think they would figure out that she's not here.

Do parents give kids real phones to play with often? I mean, do you ever get a phone call from your nephew who is just able to barely say your name or something? Unassisted by an adult, anyway? Huh.

Movie Review - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

So when you get on a roll writing, you want to keep writing. Thus, the movie review of a movie I saw a couple of weeks ago. Bear with me.

(This review assumes you've seen all the HP movies and read up through Book Five. Read ahead at your own risk if you haven't done either.)

By the time this movie comes out on DVD, you might need to change the title to: "Harry Potter and the Screaming Fangirls." Harry has grown up. I actually think he's shaving. That seriously disturbs me. But more on that later.

"Order of the Phoenix" is a long book, jam packed with Harry's teenage angst in a major way - he's actually kind of bratty, although I'm almost willing to give the kid a pass most of the time, except when he's rotten to his friends. This leaves the movie some big shoes to fill, and the attempt is nobly made, but in the end it misses the one feeling I get every time I read the book: deep and sickening dread.

A quick synopsis: Harry has watched Cedric Diggory die at the hands of Voldemort, and knows the evil one is back. When this book starts, Harry is trying to tell everyone who will listen that Voldemort is back - but most people don't believe him and the Minster of Magic and his cronies are painting Harry as a big fat liar. Harry is dealing with that, his crush on Cho Chang, and the horrifically creepy kitten-plate loving Dolores Umbridge, who is trying to run the school with an iron fist encased in a frilly pink glove.

One of the horrors of the book for me was Harry's punishment at Umbridge's hands - he must write lines in his own blood, which will scar his skin. And this happens repeatedly, in Umbridge's pink classroom where she refuses to teach spells against the Dark Arts - a hands-off, ignore-the-truth policy that infuriates me every time because I equate it with abstinence-only sex education. If we pretend it isn't happening, it isn't! Now. Let's discuss knitting.

The movie touches on this punishment briefly (oh but we do get a lovely shot of the mewing kitten plates; I nearly died laughing in the theater when I saw them) but doesn't give me that same lingering feeling of malevolence, incompetance and horror that I get when I read the book. There simply isn't time.

That's what this movie really needed - more time to tell the story. From the dementor attack in the beginning to the end when the world knows the truth, this movie hurries along at a sharp clip. Even Fred and George's school-ditching revenge gets shorter shrift than it really deserved. (And can we even agree on what a dementor looks like from one film to the next? Please??)

Of course, Imelda Staunton inhabits Umbridge with a sort of tittering glee; watching her go toe-to-toe, literally, with Dame Maggie Smith (McGonagall) is sheer fun, partially because I kept hoping McGonagall would eat Umbridge for breakfast - you know she's capable of it. And the creme de la creme of British acting royalty always deliver in these films, so you're getting good solid casting and talent. Try to tell me Emma Thompson isn't having loads of fun as flighty Sybil Trelawny. Just try it.

Even Rupert Grint, who is Ron Weasley, is no longer mugging like he did in movies two and three, and instead gives us some depth. All the kids are getting better, and this time we have the inclusion of Luna Lovegood (Evanna Lynch) who is as spacey as I expected Luna to be, although not as serious as I had pictured her. But no matter. The ending, while unfortunately truncated, is pure wizardly fun - Helena Bonham Carter gets to be crazy-on-a-stick as Bellatrix LeStrange, Gary Oldman reminds us again why purely creepy roles do him short shrift as the heroic Sirius Black, and there's always Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy to chew scenery in his blond wig if needed.

And back to Harry shaving. Harry is having bad dreams, so we get closeups of Harry writhing, sweaty and tortured, in his sleep. Suddenly I could picture teenage girls the world over getting gooey at the sight of him - he's going to be a hunk at some point in his life, and since he's legal, I only feel mostly creepy at saying this, not entirely creepy - and they are likely watching his nightmares with the urge to both snuggle him, and possibly snog him. (I'll use the British term out of politeness.) It's both fun and offputting to watch these kids grow up on film. In the first movie he was huggably adorable. By the seventh movie he'll be able to drink legally in the States. And that really kind of squicked me out. But anyway, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I just have to avoid those shirtless Equus play pics or I'll feel like a real pervert.

Animal Trauma: I don't recall any, a few weeks out, but you might feel sorry for those mewling kittens in the plates!

Overall: Competant but rushed. I give it three roses out of five, and promise to try to control the creeped-out squicks if Harry has facial hair in the next film.

A little side note: I saw this movie the weekend Book Seven came out, and I remember sitting in the theater saying to myself: "I have all the answers at home!" And when I got home the first thing I did was plow through that book to get the answers.

Movie Review - The Bourne Ultimatum

First off, a confession: I find Jason Bourne supremely sexy. Even more so when he's kicking someone's ass. So this review not only assumes you've seen the previous films, but also comes with a healthy dose of estrogen. Read at your own risk. :-)

As you're probably aware, by this time in the series, Bourne is wrestling with the motherlode of both guilt and amnesia. He knows he's killed people, and he can recall all their faces, but he can't remember their names. His girlfriend Marie has been killed and he wants revenge, peace, and answers - and the order in which those come is often interchangeable.

The third movie opens with Bourne being pursued in Moscow. Not having watched the previous films recently, I'm not recalling why he was there in the first place or how he got hurt, but he's already wounded when we first light upon him, yet still accomplishing his miraculous and brave escapes. And then this never comes up again during the rest of the movie.

No matter. Bourne gets tangled up with reporter Simon Ross (Paddy Considine) and some old pals at the CIA - Noah, the Deputy Director (David Straitharn - that guy about whom I always say 'what's his name again?') Pamela Landy (Joan Allen) and Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles). They want to get their hands on him before he can cause bigger trouble than he's already caused in connection with Ross. Ross, who thinks he's smarter than the people he writes about, is trying to out the whole project. And Bourne wants to simultaneously figure out the beginning of the project by tracing Ross's source, and doesn't want to kill any more people than truly necessary. Which of course depends on whether those people are trying to kill him or not.

The movie's plot is essentially unnecessary. By the time we get back to Bourne's beginning, it's really something of a letdown, and we never really know the cause of his initial amnesia. Stiles has a throwaway role - you think for a bit it might be Marie Redux - and is essentially there to be the pretty girl. She's no Franke Potente, though, much as I normally love Julia Stiles. Here I spent a lot of time figuring out what shade lipstick she was wearing and how I might get a tube. She simply doesn't have a lot to do, and the film would have done much better keeping Potente's character, whom she inhabited with such life and vigor. However, would Bourne want his revenge if the love of his life was dead? Guess not. Moving on.

Allen has a little more scenery to chew, although whoever is clothing her character in drab turtlenecks and keeping her from brushing her hair should probably be fired. Allen and Straitharn do get to do verbal battle, which is a nice touch, but it could have been snappier, considering how much of a threat they feel Bourne to be, and how good these two actors are.

Ah well. The action is non-freakin-stop the whole film, which is really why you're going to see it anyway. Daring rooftop chases, cars bouncing here there and everywhere, and dear little Julia trying not to get a bullet in the brain. Bourne kicks more ass in this one than the last one, and I must say, watching that boyscout face kick the crap out of people with such ease is more than a little thrilling.

Which is really why this movie succeeds. Matt Damon would not have been my initial choice in this role (which shows you what I know), but he lends a gravitas to the role by essentially not emoting, and that boy-next-door face is starting to line a little around the mouth and eyes - we get lots of closeups of that handsome face, much to my joy - so he looks wearier and older than he did in the first one - in a way that really works for him. You might even argue he looks a little broader in the shoulder, but maybe that was my wishful thinking. In short, he's made the role absolutely believable and pretty yummy at the same time. A movie for men and women, only for differing reasons.

Damon gives Bourne the cornucopia of women's lust issues: he's gorgeous without being pretty, he can kick the ass of anybody who messes with the women he knows, he's obviously smart, calm and collected, and on top of it he's wounded and vulnerable, and you might even argue gentle if need be. If that doesn't send you into an O-ring blowing frenzy, my dear, you need to check your estrogen levels.

Of course I still missed Clive Owen from the first film, but oh well. You can't have everything.

And this is one movie where I need to mention the soundtrack. John Powell's strings and tempo pieces are so invigorating that I bought the first soundtrack, and I absolutely love what he's written for the action scenes.

Animal Trauma: None, but you may mourn for Julia Stiles' lovely highlights if you like.

Overall: Plot thin, action thick, hero hooooooottttttttt. I give it four roses out of five, the last rose purely for Matt Damon being all swoon-worthy and making me wonder where I can get a Bourne of my own.

Getting Dressed

I went shopping for clothes yesterday, trying to find a top that would simultaneously work on casual Fridays at the office and for any family gathering where it was too chilly to go sleeveless, but too warm to wear long sleeves. I didn't have a whole lot of luck. Which is why I generally take people with me when I go shopping. I need to know what really does look good on me, even though I'm not so sure. I have no sense of what works or what doesn't, even after years of watching 'What Not To Wear' on TLC.

And one of my other problems is I'm often buying clothes for a couple of different 'mes'. Let me explain.

'LA' likes to wear yoga pants and tank tops, cotton shorts and concert t-shirts and Teva sandals. She's all about comfort, and you most often see her on a Saturday afternoon watching horse racing. She doesn't wear scent but prefers the smell of fabric softener and dryer sheets. (Laugh all you want, I find them comforting.)

'Anne' dresses for the office. She likes dress pants and boots, and the occasional suit, skirt or slingback. She likes crisp button down shirts and fitted jackets. She could stand to even class up a bit sometimes, even on casual Fridays. She wears scents like perfume, Japanese Cherry Blossom, Black Raspberry Vanilla and Night-Blooming Jasmine.

'Laura' goes to family events and children's birthday parties in skorts and sleeveless camp shirts, wearing nice sandals and looking wholesome and fresh. She wears Cherry Blossom, Jasmine Vanilla and Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin scents.

Then there's 'Alex.' Alex is the hell on wheels sexy version. She wants fitted boot-cut jeans and pointy-toed boots, fitted tees, leather jackets and maybe a cowboy hat from time to time. She doesn't show up very often because her venue is Saturday nights out, and there aren't many of those, so these days she lives in the imagination only. Oh, and she wears apple-scented products, along with tasty food scents, like Fantasia di Cicciolata and Creme Brulee.

So I'm often trying to dress at least four distinct personalities, sometimes more, depending on the season, location, day of the week and state of mind. Lately I've been trying to work a little Alex into the other personalities, because I've been single forever and frankly, Alex is a lot of fun. And from time to time I get tired of comfort and cuteness and being clean cut, and pretty much want to rebel (even at age 34). But I don't know how to do it right for me.

And when I don't know what else to do, I turn to what I'm used to. That means I have a lot of LA and Laura clothes, but not so many good Anne outfits and definitely very few Alex outfits.

Which is why I should never go shopping alone.

The Lion

As you probably know, I do a lot of blogging online with a small community that has, in its own unique way, become surprisingly close. Recently we started writing fiction that included each other as characters, and our stories have overlapped and gotten woven together. I have been doing some writing too, which is weird, since I don't usually post anything publicly, but I took the theme and ran with it, and have found that it's actually a lot of fun. I've been able to tap into my creative side in a way that's been dormant for a while, and I've enjoyed the supportive feedback I've gotten. (Some gals like the crackling dialogue. Imagine, me, the talker, writing about talking! ha ha ha)

There is a character that is me, by another name, and she's had some interesting adventures - fought off a headless horseman, escaped a vengeful poltergeist, been attacked by shadow people, lied to her newspaper editor in order to help fend off an apocalypse...yeah, she's been pretty busy, and not in conventional ways.

That includes meeting in some cases a handsome doctor (wouldn't my mother be proud!) who helps fend off evil and may or may not have a shady past that includes cleaning up from suspected crimes perpetrated by good people against bad (well, maybe she'd be less proud now).

Why this matters is, I started writing about that male character (not a doc in my version but an exercise rider at a major racetrack). I think a lot about my characters - get to know them as I craft them, think about how they would react to certain situations. In short, they are people to me, ones I created, but complex and layered.

In my story, my lead me-character was telling another character how well she and he got along with each other's friends and family. And then I started thinking about how this character would get along with my friends and family. I pictured him sitting at my brother's house learning to play Uno or how he might be shy around my talkative friends at first but would then open up.

And I was really wistful, you know, for somebody like that to fit into my life. Somebody who would see the best parts of me, which that character I created is, and who would want to be part of the life that I have. Would want to be close to my family. Would want to get to know my friends. Would want to come to family Christmases and travel the world and watch TV in his pajamas with me [drawstring pants, natch ;-)]. Would want to come to movie nights and play board games, and then teach me how to be braver and stronger. See things I've never seen. Take risks. Explore.

One of the gals writes a scene where the character based on me meets this doc - we turn up in a couple of stories in a couple of incarnations, all basic variations on a theme - and it practically popped off the page for me. How she shakes his hand and her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth (a peanut butter reference, however unintentional, always wins points with me) and how he smiles when he sees her, and how he has eyes like a lion's.

Wistfulness becomes an ache and a fear and a hope, all at once.

I will just keep writing.

On A Roll

Ever have one of those weekends where you feel like you got a lot accomplished? I had one of those. I took Friday off to get some stuff done, and by now, Sunday evening, I'm feeling pretty good about the whole experience. Sure, there were things that didn't get done yet, but on the whole, I feel like I accomplished what I sent out to.

I did laundry and dishes, cleaned the kitchen, cleaned both bathrooms, started to clean the guest bedroom, organized my scrapbooking materials (found my paper cutter finally!), went shopping to get cards and gifts, mailed bills, did some writing, shredded old documents from way-back-when, planted flowers, took out all the recycling, cleaned house, caught up on season finales like Lost, had dinner with some friends, watched some racing (Rags to Riches beats the boys in the Belmont!) and slept in.

So pretty much I feel like taking Friday off was a good idea. May was so busy with family stuff that I started feeling a little behind on all those little things you know you need to do - like scrubbing the kitchen sink or washing the cat's litter box. It looks awful but it doesn't really insist on being done right away. Little things like that.

I don't know what my point was in bringing this up, I just thought I'd post that I felt pretty good going into Monday. Of course, I take my car in for repairs tomorrow so I'll be driving a loaner for a while. Oh goody! That could change my mood altogether.

I Don't Think You're Referring To Me...

One of the gals on the blog just called me 'well-adjusted.' She was laughing when she said it, so I figure she knows me better than that!

Should I call my mother and tell her somebody said I was well-adjusted?

Granted, the woman who said this to me just wrote some crackling/creepy SM-style smut fiction (I blog with some seriously interesting/warped people). So you know, take it all with a grain of salt. Connected to a tequila body shot off a hot Winchester.




How many of you did I just totally creep out?

Race Car Thoughts

I'm watching this week's IRL race while it pours outside (I'm starting to watch for animals two by two) and I got to thinking about last week's Indy 500. As you know, this is an annual tradition for my mom and aunt to watch it on TV while cheering for their drivers. This year we scrapbooked while it was going on. Well, okay, some of us did. My mom and my aunt were glued to the screen, even during the three hour rain delay.

They usually introduce the drivers before the race starts, row by row. My aunt looked at Tomas Scheckter's suit and said, "He looks like Buzz Lightyear."

The race also had three women (count 'em! Three women!) which meant that the creepy lady who gives the instructions had to say 'Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines!' Danica Patrick had a great day; Sarah Fisher not so much, and Milka Duno (who seems to recognize that sex appeal is generally sorely lacking in this sport, and she's gonna supply it with panache) crashed out. But it was kick ass to have all those women in it, even if half my family thinks Danica Patrick sucks.

Well, that's harsh. My cousin doesn't like her attitude, but here's my thought: here's a gal who has been under more pressure than any female racer I know of (I don't know what Janet Guthrie went through, so I admit that failing). She's got a great team, a great car, and the expectations on her to be both attractive and accomplished are a lot more than many of the men have ever had to shoulder. She's got endorsement deals coming out the wazoo, and everybody wants to interview her. So sometimes she comes off as a little cold, but I think it's mostly self-preservation. She really wants to be professional and I think she wants to be considered attractive more than she lets on (otherwise she'd go with shorter hair). But so far I think she's doing really well, and once she gets her first win a lot of people will have to go into their closets, pull out some hats, AND EAT 'EM.

What I loved about watching Dario Franchitti win wasn't jus Ashley Judd running around shrieking with joy while soaking wet but that Tony Kanaan almost leapt across the car to hug his best friend (which, if the first rain delay had stuck, Tony would have been the winner) and even Michael Andretti cracked a smile.

Speaking of the usually dour Michael, he seems to come to the track every year with a new trophy wife. Michael! Skip the bimbos! They just make you seem old and creepy! The one this year was practically gloating. The last one had a tendency to bounce and clap. Ye gods.

Where Have I Been? Good Question

So it's been a while since I've been online. It's not that I haven't had lots going on in my head - I have - but it's been in a different format than usual. I got involved in a personal writing project and that's where my brain's been at for the last few weeks. If this were quality writing that would be one thing, but it's really just a flight of fancy, a fun experiment. Anyway, that doesn't mean it's worthless. It was actually fun. Or should I say 'is' since I keep working on it!

That of course meant I got behind on many of my tv season finales. I'm watching CSI right now; I'm a week behind on Lost, 24, Veronica Mars, and about a month behind on CSI NY and CSI Miami, which I'm ditching after this year because it's ludicrous. When you start finding big ass plot holes, the show loses its joy for you. And I tend to want to suspend my disbelief, so losing me there is a sign of a show's failure. And I usually don't give up on a show before it completes its run.

24 this year was a huge disappointment, and I haven't even gotten to the finale yet, which I will probably half-watch while doing something else. They killed off Tony for starters, but then the show just degenerated into lukewarm plot lines we'd all seen before; Chloe didn't get any good whipcrack lines; Jack disappeared half the day to be replaced by interchangeable actors who didn't make me want to root for them in any way. In short the season was a bust.

Lost has been stellar; I can never understand when people say the show bores them or they gave up on it. I think it's more interesting than ever. Sure, the show has had some up and down points - Nikki and Paulo were a sadly failed experiment - but overall the show has paced itself beautifully and is so well written I wish other shows would take notice. I'm still headed to the finale of that show too, but I have to say the long wait until February will be difficult, especially during the summer rerun season.

My guilty pleasure, Supernatural, wrapped up already - that's the one show I watched live every week - and although it had its moments where I thought the writing could be more crisp, the show remains enjoyable (hey, every week with the Metallicar is a good week). The finale's CGI needed work, and not to give Big Daddy Winchester even a line so we could hear Jeffrey Dean Morgan's stellar pipes at work was a travesty. But now we go into next season with Dean having made a deal with the devil so to speak, and if they don't find a way to get him out of it, he'll be dead in a year. So that gives us some urgency. And the need for a fourth season, otherwise the show'll just kill him off at the end of three, and that would be, indeed, The Suck.

What else have I been doing? The round of family get-togethers, for the most part. I saw my family every weekend in May. Baby showers, birthdays, the annual Indy 500 party which included two days of scrapbooking - I told my mom not to get upset if she didn't see me at all in June! It's funny, I'm not married but I spend a lot of time doing family things! But we always have such a good time. I actually heard my mother make a dirty joke. THAT was a shocker. And my grandmother made a reference to having a doctor whose name was Dr Ruff, and my cousin and I eyeballed each other. Yeah, we went there. Goes back to that wrist restraint conversation I had online with some of the cyber gang! Ha ha ha

I feel like I should have something profound to talk about since I haven't been here in a while, but I really don't. Give me time; maybe something else will occur to me worth discussing.

Virginia Tech

Like many of you, I was horrified earlier this week to turn on my computer and read, throughout my work day, about the escalating tragedy at Virginia Tech University, in which a highly disturbed student killed 32 people on campus, and then himself.

As a reporter I saw this kind of thing in great detail. With every school or office shooting, every bulletin made available to the media came across my desktop, and I read most of them. This time my new career kept me insulated from the worst of it, but despite that, old habits die hard, and I found myself reading what I could about the tragedy as the information became available. And as I have in situations like this in the past, I got angrier and angrier.

When a situation goes horribly awry, you hear often, "How could this have been prevented?" And that is the question that I think needs to be addressed here, and quickly.

By all counts, Cho Seung-Hui was a peculiar guy. He hardly talked to his roommates. He photographed women in class. He wouldn't talk to people who addressed him first.

And so the people who knew him weren't surprised when they learned it was he who snapped and began firing on so many innocent people. Two women had already reported he was stalking them. At least one professor found him so mean and disturbing, she threatened to quit if he stayed in her class. His family, at least according to many accounts I've read, rarely, if ever, visited campus to see him.

So why didn't anyone DO anything? Everyone said nothing he did was specific enough to warrant action. The women he was stalking found it annoying, not frightening. His writing, though disturbing, turned out to be indicative of his intentions, but it was also fiction, and any writer will tell you, imagination is entirely different from action - for most people.

But here was a guy obviously disturbed and hateful, yet it seems everyone just expected he would continue to be weird and self-isolated, even while they watched him out of the corners of their eyes. Instead, he bought guns and ammo, videotaped manifestos, and sent them to the media before slaughtering people sitting in their classes, pursuing futures they now will never have.

THIS WASN'T A SURPRISE TO THOSE WHO KNEW HIM. So where was everyone who could have taken action?

Now, don't get me wrong. I blame HIM entirely for this situation. In the case of the Columbine killers, I laid some blame on their parents. (After all, how does a teenage boy, still in high school, play with pipe bombs in his basement without anyone finding out? Where was his family?) Cho's culture may have played a role in the fact that his family took no action. And at the risk of speculating, if his family didn't visit, perhaps they had very little contact with the boy they found so odd. Perhaps they even sighed a breath of relief that he was no longer at home. I don't know.

He was also a college student, far away from his family influence. But even his roommates, who saw him as so odd, didn't seem to find him particularly threatening. There seems to be a conflict here - those who thought him weird but not dangerous, and those who saw him as both. Why did these groups not put their heads together to decide what to do in case something went wrong? Those who attempted to have him committed seem to have been rebuffed, from what I understand.

Why did he snap? Maybe we will never know. I know he was a victim of bullying in middle school. To which I reply, WE ALL WERE. GET OVER IT. I know that's harsh, and I know it is tough for a new student from a foreign country to come in and be accepted. Middle schoolers are vicious and hateful as they sort out their hierarchy. High schoolers can be too.

But by all accounts people who DID reach out to him were rebuffed. So his attempt to blame everyone else for his actions falls far short of reality. Who hasn't seen the class wars and fallen on the wrong side of them? Who hasn't watched some people get handed everything and seen themselves with nothing? Who hasn't, at least for a moment, loathed someone else becaused she was prettier, he was better at sports, she was great at theater, he was a math whiz? We have all envied, and despised, and dare I say it hated. It is part of the human condition.

But we have not killed because of it. We may indulge in violent video games or loud music (my weakness for dealing with anger). Maybe we've taken up a contact sport or thrown ourselves into a passion or a hobby. But we've dealt with it. He did not.

Make no mistake, Cho was crazy. Not just mentally ill; I think there is a serious difference between coping with a mental illness, and doing something so immeasurably hateful and sick as gunning down students and staff, many of whom had probably never seen him before in their lives. You can even argue, and probably successfully, that he was evil. I would certainly believe it. When people tried to befriend or even talk to him, he took the road of what he probably thought to be long suffering martyrdom in his behavior - snubbing them in return, then blaming them for his acts of violence.

And so we will now spend years discussing the 32 innocent people who died at his hand. To me, that's the hardest part. Call me callous, but I'd rather read about the man I loathe who killed them and his reasons for doing it, because it stirs anger in me, than to read about the people whose lives were cut short, which stirs pain and fear and utter deep sadness in me. I, like many, grieve for those lost, and grief is a wearing feeling, sometimes too heavy to bear.

So where do we go now? It seems that just about everyone who saw in Cho's previous actions the signs of an unwell mind spoke up - yet no one actually did the one thing that would have saved 32 victims - committed a psychotic individual. How did he slip through the cracks? Indeed, how do they all?

We can start by crushing bullying in schools. Children want to find out where they fit on the social ladder; that much is inescapable. But teachers can watch closely for the playing out of the hierarchy and deal with it swiftly, ignoring the indignance of parents who only see the halo on their child, not the devil horns that may, from time to time, hold it up. Every child wears them at one time or another. Not allowing it in the classroom can be a start. And that requires the support of parents and administrators too.

But teachers are given far too much responsibility, I'm aware, when it comes to raising children. Where are parents in this equation? Are kids under too much pressure? Not enough? I don't know the answer to that. But I know expecting teachers to solve the problem single-handedly is ridiculous. They see your child five hours a week. You should see your child far more than that, and know what that child is doing and thinking. You should be in touch with your child, even when they go away to school. And you should trust that a teacher may see a side to your child that you may not, and give their suggestions serious thought. That might help to nip some of this social anger in the bud.

We also need to take better care of those obviously in need of mental help. Instead, we toss the mentally ill out on the streets, where many scrounge to survive, not able to afford medication, or not under any pressure to take their medications if they do have them. In Michigan several years ago we closed several mental hospitals. What good, exactly, did that do? Some people cannot survive in society at large. They should not be on the streets where they can harm others or themselves. Many don't understand the difference between right and wrong or are incapable of handling that sort of decision. We should put more money into this side of health care, while telling the drug lobbies to shut up for five minutes while we deal with our citizens in need. Health care is a disaster (a blog for another time) and because of it everyone suffers.

But Cho's problems may also have come from home in a way where the answers are tougher to come by. His writing hinted at sexual abuse. If only he had had the courage (something he was clearly lacking in all areas of his life) to report the person who may have abused him. Perhaps his culture did not allow that. I don't know. But had he taken other actions to deal with his rage and hate then perhaps he would have found an existence he could live with. Even perhaps if he could not have lived with it, he could take his own life and leave the innocents alone. Harsh, yes, I realize that. But to cause pain to others because of your own pain is childish and sociopathic, not righting any wrongs. Of course I don't advocate suicide. But my anger also wonders why the middle man was necessary. Go straight to the endgame, spare the innocents, and deal with yourself. If you can no longer bear to live, let those of us who enjoy our lives to continue with them. Leave your manifesto if you need to, to share your message. Killing others as revenge for real or perceived social wrongs brands you only as a killer, not as a martyr.

So for this child (not a man, by any stretch) I feel pity and disgust, and for his victims and their families, and his family as well, the deepest sympathy and my profound sadness.

Let this be the last of these stories any of us ever have to read.

To the Writers of 24

Dear Writers on the hit show 24:

Although I've been a fan of your program since the first season, I have to say you are starting to tread some very familiar ground, and not in a particularly good way. And so, with that in mind, I have some humble suggestions - some mine, and some culled from other fans - that I think you should heed to give your show a fresh perspective.

1. Enough with the moles already. Every season has someone as a mole inside CTU. Now, isn't this supposed to be the Counter Terrorist Unit? Doesn't everybody have to be vetted or something before they can be hired? If you can't even police your own staff, how do we expect you to save the world?

2. Stop treating the women on this show like crap. Every season a woman is the mole, or is suspected of being the mole, and is tortured as part of the investigation. Or she's killed off in some horrifying fashion. Or she gets herself caught in a cougar trap. (Okay, that was just Kim.) Or she's dumb. (That's Kim too.) The only strong women are evil or whiners, or dead. Can we find somebody who is none of the above? We had her in Teri and Michelle, just to name two. Yep, they're pushing up daisies. Oh wait, we do have the softer, gentler Chloe. See corollary below.

3. Put the old brusque Chloe in the field or some other socially awkward situation. One of the show's funniest moments came when she Tasered the guy in the bar who wouldn't leave her alone. Softer kinder Chloe isn't getting any of her whipcrack line reading moments. This season she's just another CTU agent, albeit in a cute dress. Booooorrrrrringg.

4. Give Jack a female partner. Well, you had to kill off Tony, and Ricky Schroeder ain't cutting it. Any reason why a tough chick couldn't pick up a .45 and follow Jack into the field? She doesn't even need to be a love interest, although some crackling sexual tension would give this show a fun jolt. Jack's field partners always tend to be men in their 30s and sometimes they end up dead too. None of them have had much spark on screen. Except Tony. And he's six feet under. Man, I miss you, Tony.

5. Skip the President altogether. Nobody is going to be David Palmer. On the other side of the coin, nobody is going to be Charles Logan. Can we just write the Presidential character out of this storyline for a season and see how it goes? We've pretty much done all the personality combinations possible, and if we can find someone else for Jack to play off of, that would be fresh and interesting. I don't know who that would be, that's why they pay you the big bucks. I'm just a chick with a laptop.

6. Get out of LA. LA has seen every imaginable disaster. Let's go somewhere else, make use of another city. Bring some freakin' variety to the setting, for heaven's sake. If I were living in LA, by now I would have moved to the East Coast, after everything that has ever happened there. In fact, I would feel downright cursed. I mean, what's so special about LA anyway? Except for the fact that Tool wrote a song about sinking the whole thing into the sea.

7. Give Jack something to agonize over. He had a failing marriage in season 1, and his concern for his wife and child drove him. Season 5 could have been really something, as Jack tries to recover from years of captivity in China. But by now, he looks fine to me. I'd rather see him really wrestling with what he faces. Nobody does gun-toting badass like Keifer Sutherland, but can't he do more than shout while pointing a weapon at someone?

8. Suspending disbelief is one thing; going against human nature is another altogether. A nuclear bomb just went off in LA. But everybody is walking around like just another weekday. Huh?? Why aren't we seeing news helicopter shots of crowded freeways as people leave town? Hospitals swamped with radiation victims? Looting at area stores? Business as usual just doesn't cut it when a nuke went off near a big city. People would PANIC.

9. Speaking of which, where's the media? They're going to be all over this. But yet, they're not. In fact, we've hardly seen them at all as the seasons go on. Give the media a prominent role. And for heaven's sake, don't cast them as villains. That's SO been done.

10. Great casting makes all the difference. Powers Boothe is a coup. James Cromwell can do creepy and nice without breaking a sweat. Gregory Itzin and Jean Smart were so robbed of Emmy awards that I'm surprised police didn't rush the stage at the show when it was clear they weren't taking home a trophy. And nobody, but nobody, sounded more presidential than Dennis Haysbert. But then we have Ricky Schroeder, looking more like Silver Spoons than NYPD Blue. Showkiller Eric Balfour, as Milo, has come back after his last zillion series failed. And I can't even tell you anything about the chick who plays Nadia. You've had some great casting and some not so great casting. Stick with the great. Weed out the 'who?' group. (While I'm on it, why in the world didn't you cast Regina King as the President? If I wanna kick terrorist ass, I'd hire her. She's so underused this season, I don't even want to know how often her agent chews you out.)

There you go, ten suggestions to help make the show better. Thanks, and I'll keep watching this season, but just so you know, I'm starting to see fins in the water, and somebody is handing me water skiis.

Lovely Weather

Yesterday was one of those days when you could smell the damp earth finally, the sun melting the last of the ice from the parking lot (and the rooftops, I hear from the facilities manager at work). I walked out to my car at the end of the day actually far too warm in my trench, even with the stiff breeze. I finally feel like spring is here.

Today it's been rainy, but I did get a chance to take my lunchtime walk outside instead of underground. As I left my building I could smell fresh pine from the trees in the courtyard, and a cheeky squirrel or two was busy digging up the nuts from the fall before (I swear one fat one was gloating). I enjoyed the walk even though it was so cloudy, because I could smell the coming rain and the breeze was fresh.

Even when it's gloomy, it's more bearable with warm weather.

Whaddya Want With My Hand Anyway?

I'm going to post this knowing people are going to think I am abso-frickin-lutely nuts.

Then again, I probably shouldn't tell you that I've been blogging with the SnObs again, looking at more pictures (Rap sent me a great headshot of evil Krycek, and it's NICE) and now I'm listening to an old high school friend's online radio broadcast, known as Short Bus Radio. ("Superfreak" is on right now.)

But on to the topic. Whenever somebody I know gets engaged, they tell me how their fiance went to their dad and asked his permission. I think my brother did it for his fiancee. And I always get all excited and say "That's so sweet!" and 'aw' a lot. And I really truly mean it.

But I wouldn't want somebody to do it for me.

Now before I explain why, let's get something straight. I'm not in any way saying how I feel about the practice being done for me means I feel that way about someone else having done it or it being done for them. I never have this train of thought when it happens to somebody else. It's sweet and respectful, and I'm usually just so happy for the person that they are getting married. In other words, I totally get and go along with the societal situation without a second thought.

But again, I wouldn't want somebody to do it for me.

That's because I'm not somebody's 'anything' to 'give away' at this age. I've been my own woman for a very long time, so asking my dad for his 'permission' doesn't really fit. I don't belong to him. Now, not to say my dad wouldn't be thrilled - maybe he would - if somebody asked him, but at my age I'd rather we announced it as a pair, as partners. I especially wouldn't like it if my fiance-to-be did this without telling me first he was going to do it. He should be discussing all of this with me first, plain and simple.

Now, would my dad walk me down the aisle and 'give me away'? Yes. So why don't I go with the one tradition but go with the other? I don't have an answer for that.

Comments Update

So if you've tried to post comments and they haven't worked, I think I know why, and I believe I've changed the setting successfully. So give it a try. I still have to moderate all comments so it'll be a bit before that comes up, but at least you won't be shut out anymore!!

Cool Website

I promise you I'm not getting any endorsement money from this site when I say it is probably the coolest T-shirt website I have seen in a long time.

It's called Cafe Press (www.cafepress.com) and from what I gather, it's a site for t-shirt makers to post their designs (so I don't know how reliable it is, but some fellow bloggers have reported success). Then you can order the design you want on any number of types of shirts or sweatshirts, in men's, women's and children's styles. And maybe you can get a calendar, mug or mousepad too.

The best part about it is you can find something about every single tv show out there (and maybe more, I haven't gotten that far yet). For example, I stumbled onto the Joss Whedon pages and discovered so much Firefly and Buffy stuff I am still debating what I want. (One shirt I'm seriously considering says "Thank God we're hot chicks with superpowers" - a line Faith says to Buffy). Or Firefly-themed shirts that say, "Wash Lives" or "I Aim to Misbehave" or "Browncoats". And of course I did find horse-related shirts, many of which talk about Smarty Jones, which I thought was kind of odd, but there you are.

Anyway, just a suggestion, if you're looking for something pop-culture cool.

More Rambling

So I went back to last week's Prison Break just to watch Michael hit Kim with the car a second time, and watch Linc kick the crap out of him. I really like the show right now; now that Sarah has joined the brothers the stakes seem to have raised, but I will miss Kellerman with them, since he's something of a loose cannon. Now, Sucre and MariCruz should get to escape scot-free, C-Note should get some sort of real justice this time, and T-Bag should just run around being T-Bag. The creepy version.

Two of the coolest names in music today: Lupe Fiasco and Sully Erna.

I have been watching so much Supernatural and talking about it so much on line I have been having dreams with the show in it. Veronica Mars was in one of them - she and Sam knew each other from way back and were good friends. The second involved a bunch of people (say, hundreds) trapped in my parents' church, and there was a black fog around the building that would kill you if you went outside. Sam and Dean were helping me figure out how to fight the fog but eventually they disappeared (but not before I got all cranky with a bunch of teeny boppers who were following Dean around because I didn't want to admit I had a crush on him myself). Then the fog lifted, and a caravan of vehicles (part of some business or group) decided to leave, and I tried to stop them, and the minute they went outside, the fog descended and devoured them, and I knew we had to wait until sunrise to escape. I even tried to use a speaker system in the kitchen area to warn everyone but I couldn't get it to work.

Sarah is now laughing her ass off that I had a dream about church. I hear you, snap!!! ;-)
While you're there, apologize to your father for my dirty mouth. I'm sure he's learned a lot more about me than he intended reading this blog! ("She's looking at half-naked pictures of actors online???")

I've been having a really hard time keeping up with all the Derby preps this year. Most aren't being shown on TV - only the biggies are - so I have to find them online. But you only get that little tiny screen, and one of the things I like to watch is jockey body language - how they move their hands and arms, how they're sitting, what they're doing with their legs and feet - and it's hard to see that on the little picture. Plus it's a lot harder to gauge a horse's stride. And what really tees me off is I can't download the videos for posterity. Argh!!

Spring got up and walked off. It's been sleeting here for the last 36 hours. It woke me up last night, it was so loud on the windowpanes. I played 'bear' today and hibernated. Well, I did laundry, cleaned the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen (mostly), caught up on Derby preps and podcasts, and organized my recycling. And of course caught up on all the TV from last week that I missed. (I love 'Midsomer Murders' on Biography!)

But I'm not watching the Oscars. I'll just get the red carpet report and the winners tomorrow (I almost wrote whiners, and not on purpose). Gives me a break from that project. I can't believe it's almost Monday already. :-(

My question to you is, what is the essential classic rock soundtrack? I mean, if you were burning a CD of the best classic rock of all time, what would you include? The only requirement is it must open with AC/DC's Back In Black. (Long story. Long fangirl story. Somewhere I hear Rap, Hoggle, Sukayro, Skye, Arafel and a host of other SnObs laughing at me.)

Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!

I Just Wanna Ramble

I don't know what I want to talk about today. So I'm gonna ramble.

What the &^*% is up with Britney Spears? I gotta say I'm so over whatever that girl does now, except I do worry about her kids. When you start making Kevin Federline look responsible, it's time to check into rehab. AND STAY THERE.

I just got done watching Supernatural's "Asylum" from last season, and it totally made me think about all those episodes of Ghost Hunters where they investigate creepy old asylums. Whoever did the set has obviously seen those episodes too.

That project at work is kicking my ass. Now my 'editors' want me to avoid using pronouns in a section that they want written in the third person. In other words, I shouldn't use 'he' or 'she' to be gender neutral, I should use a general term. In the interest of saving my job, I'll say 'the shopper.' Um, how long do you think it's going to be before THAT gets old? "The shopper should be certain to pick a color that is flattering to the shopper, and the shopper should then use the credit card with the least amount of the shopper's debt on it." I'm exaggerating, but you get my point.

I don't get those people who say that Lost isn't as good now as it used to be. I think it's just as good now as it's ever been, except for maybe the initial heady beginning when we were just figuring things out. I'm taping tonight's ep (a fabulous martini left me sleepy) and looking forward to it for tomorrow. I'm a sucker for TV that makes you pay attention and think. Hence, the reason I'm skipping the "How to Become the Next Pussycat Doll" or whatever they're calling it on the CW. That's just sad.

How hilarious was it on Prison Break when Michael hit Kim with the car? I stood up and yelled. Then Linc kicked the crap out of him. I yelled some more. Then Sara locked Kellerman out of the car, and I yelled again. Then I wondered if we'd have to see Kellerman in a suit again because honestly I think he's sexier in jeans. Just a thought.

I have absolutely NO life. I drink with my coworkers once in a while. I gotta find something to get involved with. If I could find a TV watchers society, I would be good.

May 1 is going to be one of the best days of the year. Both Rush and Tori Amos are putting out albums that day. Whatever did I do to please the music gods??? Whatever it was, I'll keep doing it.

Today was one of those days when I was walking outside that I could almost smell spring. That, to me, is that earthy smell you get when the ground is starting to thaw, and when you take a deep breath everything smells fresh and new. I love that smell, and it could never be bottled. Plus the sun was shining. (That made up for a very annoying doctor's visit.) I could take a dozen more days like this. It certainly makes walking to and from my car easier to bear, and maybe I'll take some lunchtime walks outside. Get my Vitamin D or something.

This is the first year I don't think I'm going to watch the Oscars. It's because I just don't care. I haven't been in a movie mood for a while now, and frankly not much out there has been appealing to me. (I do need to see 'Dreamgirls' but that's about it.) I might watch the red carpet to see who wears what but I don't think I'll watch much else of it. That's rare; normally I try to watch the show. But I've finally gotten it through my thick skull that a lot of the movies that are recognized by Oscar really don't resonate with me in any way. (That's not true of EVERY movie, but a lot of them.) It's usually heavy-handed depressing tripe. Somebody usually dies in a heart-wrenching way. I mean, that's what it feels like. I just have no interest in most of the movies nominated for anything. When am I going to run out and rent "Letters from Iwo Jima?" Or "Notes on a Scandal"? Oscar doesn't always know how just to have a good time. I suppose that's what the People's Choice awards are for?

I do love me the dresses though; I can't help that. I have my princess fantasy that someday I'll get to wear a fabulous dress like that and get my picture taken and have people talk about how lovely I looked.

Then I wake up.

Somewhere I Went All Fangirl

So, do you remember the post I put out talking about the enthusiastic Supernatural bloggers on TV Guide.com?

Guess what? I'm now one of them.

I don't know where or when it happened. Probably when I started getting feedback for my comments, or when we started making X-Files references, or when 'smilineyes' sent me a link to a picture of one of the actors naked in bed - carefully covered of course.

I accused her of trying to kill me, and then I went to take a cold shower.

True, I keep my gushing to a minimum, generally. That's not because of the other bloggers; that's my natural reaction to any male a bunch of women are effusive about. I tend to seek out the less sought-after male, assuming, of course, that in real life there would be less competition for him. (I am terribly good at self-analysis.) I don't know why I don't gush much with this crowd - we're all in agreement, we're all between 27-45 (or so I've gathered) - older than the most of the actors, in fact - and of course because we're talking about actors, we have less than the snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting them, much less indulging in our wildest dreams, so a few fantasies are downright harmless. And one of 'em has been on my Meal Plan for quite a while anyway. In fact, I did this very thing with the X-Files. So it's not like I'm not right there with 'em.

In fact, read my posts, and I'm there a lot. Especially while I'm wading through this annoying-as-hell project that is taxing my brain and my patience. (Writing by committee is enough to make you want to hurl your computer monitor at the next person who thinks an introduction to a training video for the public should include an explanation of federal law.)

I'm even considering buying a t-shirt I found online that features the series' extremely sexy car - a 67 black Impala, known to fans as the Metallicar. (The back says "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.")

When did I go all fangirl? WHEN, I ASK YOU? We're even reviewing Season 1 on DVD during the spring hiatus that lasts a month, all online. I've never met these people, although at least one is from Michigan.

But I'm having too much fun to quit now.

So why do I feel a little guilty about it? I guess I feel like I should be above such things (I picture the Kasey Kahne ads as I write this)...but I am woman, I have pulse, I like hot men in hot cars playing Rush tunes and other classic rock. So what is there to be 'above'? (You may insert joke here.) Nothing! I guess I should just indulge my little addiction, and not worry that feeling a little like a giddy teenager from time to time is a bad thing. This is normal, I keep telling myself. And harmless. And brightens my day.

(What is normal, though, for a single woman who lives at home with her cat and constantly adjusts a list of the five famous guys she finds hottest at any one moment? Okay, that's not helping my argument.)

Anyway, I'm not putting down any of the other bloggers - not by any stretch. (I was hard on them earlier, and true, I don't always agree with them, but I've rather grown to like them. So I guess I should have just taken a pill.) They're having a good time and they really look at this show closely, so they show me things I missed. (I wish the Lost bloggers did this but they don't.) And it's a good show - mislabeled as a 'teen' show, but it's actually put together really well, it's scary, it talks a lot about family, and it does carry something of an X-Files vibe. And these bloggers often put a big grin on my face, more often than not, in fact.

I guess I just need to acknowledge my fangirl side, enjoy the show, enjoy the other bloggers - they're really nice people online; none of the other shows have bloggers as insightful or friendly (even when, yes, they occasionally get gushy) - and really consider getting that shirt. All of it guilt-free.

But first I have to go back to the Season 1 DVD. CindyRose is reviewing 'Route 666' this week, and as I recall, one of the upcoming episodes features one of the brothers in a towel.

TV Mid-Season Report

Since so many TV shows started late, or are just getting ramped up, I'll consider this the midseason and report on all the shows I watch. I have the new episode of Lost waiting for me on tape, so this is a perfect time to talk about this. Beware, though, of spoilers, if you're going to watch these shows in summer reruns or on DVD.

Sunday

Cold Case - Generally reliable procedural; very little character development right now except Vera's relationship with his neighbor (Vera is a man). The most interesting thing I can say about it is that Lilly has the coolest coat in the world - black, tailored, with a red lining. I SO want that coat.

Without a Trace - Another generally reliable procedural with minimal character development. What's fun about this show is figuring out exactly where the cast is all from and how well they do their American accents when one is British and two are Australian. At least it's multi-cultural, which represents New York pretty well.

Desperate Housewives - This show is really back on its feet after a dodgy last season. Gabby and Carlos are starting to reach an understanding which is a relief after all the fighting they've been doing; Bree's new husband Orson didn't kill his ex-wife Alma, who is in league with Orson's mother (a positively chilling Dixie Carter) to get knocked up, which gives the fabulous Marcia Cross a chance to really sink her teeth into the script (at least until she goes on maternity leave); Mike and Susan are doing the dance again (which is getting tiresome) now that he's out of his coma and out of prison, but she's got a British boyfriend whose wife was in a coma too and just died (oh brother!); Lynette is dealing with her husband's bratty out-of-wedlock daughter (but it gives us a chance to see more Kathryn Joosten as she babysits the Scavo brats!); and Edie hasn't had a whole lot to do. Yet. Wow! Could we cram in more stories? And yet the show is easy to follow. I find it something of a guilty pleasure, although I find the characters repeat their mistakes a lot. I would like to hear more of Andrew's zingers though now that he's back. Sometimes he just gets the best lines.

Monday

Prison Break - This show is seriously getting better and better the last few weeks. I was a little skeptical after the break out, but now that Kellerman has joined the brothers and Sarah is with them (finally, she and Michael get some liplock action!) so that makes it a little more interesting. We still don't know where Kellerman will end up - if he'll try to get back in the President's good graces or stay with the brothers to screw her over. And I still expect Mahone to turn on his handlers at some point. William Fichtner is always good. He does worldweary yet slightly off center pretty damn well. And Bellick is now back out of prison and chasing them down as a junkyard dog. I've been reading Wade Williams' blog and he seems like a really cool guy, and he's doing a great job with Bellick's layers. And who can forget T-Bag? Why Robert Knepper has never been nominated for an Emmy I will never know. He takes creepy but charismatic to a whole new level.

24 - This season is still pretty new, but it's not as gripping as it has been in the past. We're just really getting into it but so far I've felt the show has been unrealistic. The show has always stretched the boundaries of plausability, but you always felt like these situations COULD happen and the reactions you see on screen would be the ones you would expect in real life. Now a nuclear bomb goes off in LA and everybody just goes about their business? Chloe is mild-mannered?? I'm not buying it. I DO like the chance to see Robin Wood on screen again as the President. Y'know, he's really cute.

CSI: Miami - Is this show still on?? The setting is gorgeous and the theme is arguably the best one on TV now (Cold Case is right up there on my list though) but the acting is subpar and the plots are ludicrous. I'm considering ditching this one next season.

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip - I am a raving lunatic fan for Aaron Sorkin's writing, but he's stumbled here. He got too preachy in a show that actually should be pretty good. It's only being held together right now by some fabulous acting. But I still look forward to it and still enjoy it, warts and all. Now if Danny would just stop stalking Jordan, and somebody would tell me how to do my hair like Harriet's (without a stylist's aid) I would be happy.

Tuesday

Veronica Mars - I love this show. I really do. WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH DOES IT NOT GET THE LOVE IT DESERVES?? It's well-written and witty, and Veronica has the greatest relationship with her father - a well-adjusted, humorous, close relationship, which you just don't see on TV often. Oh sure, the show slips from time to time (more Wallace! More Weevil! More Mac!) but overall this show is brilliant and wildly underrated. Rent Season One, if you're not watching the show already. Or you can borrow mine.

Wednesday

Lost - I'm just gearing up for the second half of the season, but I'm still deeply intrigued by this show and its mythology. Locke is one of my favorite characters, and his battles with Jack over leadership and faith versus reason are entirely compelling. And that friggin Benry creeps the CRAP out of me. Watching Jack take on the ballsy role while in the hands of the Others has really been an interesting transformation, especially as he used to be so ambivalent about himself. Now if only Kate would make up her mind about the guys and stop making that worried face. She'll get a wrinkle.
And more Hurley, dammit!

Bones - If you're not watching this one, why not??? It's got David Boreanaz, which should get all you Angel fans. It's occasionally gross but witty (I learned the words 'wanktard' and 'pornado' from this show) and the characters are endearing (watch Hodgins' wooing of Angela). This show got me reading all of Kathy Reichs' novels and they're pretty damn good. Plus you occasionally get to see Booth's funky socks and Bones' great earrings. That's just me, I guess. Anyway, although I miss the Chinese restaurant and its maitre'd Heavy D, I still adore this show passionately.

CSI:NY - I retain my odd TV crush on Gary Sinise. This show hasn't fallen into Miami's trap and good for it - it's still solid in the acting department, although I think New York is a bit of a crutch when it comes to setting shows. Still, the show is doing a better job of highlighting what makes NY unique and I still look forward to it. Worth your time if you like the original and are giving up on Miami.

Mythbusters - Seriously, shit blows up. You have to love a show where shit blows up. EVERY WEEK.

Ghost Hunters - Not coming back until JUNE!!!!! Argh! In the meantime, if you get a chance to catch a marathon, watch the Lighthouse episode. Freaky. Freaky. Freaky.

Thursday

CSI - This show continues to be a solid player every week. I'm interested in the characters but I'm not bombarded by their troubles. The mysteries are still good, although I wonder why Catherine gets away with wearing the stuff she wears to crime scenes. And I would so cast Paul Guilfoyle (Brass) as my dad in the movie of his life. I only wish the regulars got more screen time. Sara is still probably my favorite character on that show. I guess I relate sometimes to some of her layers. Except the 'sleeping with the boss' thing.
And you can't tell me you've never imagined being frisked by Warrick. I'm just sayin'.

Supernatural - Come 9:00 tonight I will be in my pajamas, in bed, in the dark, watching my favorite guilty pleasure show of the entire season. I not only have the Meal Plan hots for Jensen Ackles, but the show chases ghosts and ghoulies, which I love, and the Metallicar is a beauty all on its own (67 Impala, black). And the classic rock soundtrack, that's something. They recently used Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit beautifully and they've even used Rush twice so far. Then, I admit it, I get on TV Guide.com on Friday and blog with all the other obsessed fans out there. Seriously, we are so obsessed, we blog all week about the show (we're up to nearly 300 posts from last week's show). I've even started referencing the X-Files, which caused at least one blogger to admit she 'LMFAO' when she read my reference to the Magic Fingers. If this show doesn't get renewed for a third season, women (and some guys) all over the US are going to rebel. And it ain't gonna be pretty, because some of 'em ain't teens anymore.
Actually the show is really good. The two brothers treat each other like brothers would. They have a complicated relationship with their father and they still get to hunt down creepy things every week, including the Freaky Yellow-Eyed Demon that is after Sam. And the show is pretty good about its roots - one episode was an homage to the Shining, for example.
And did I mention the Metallicar?

Friday and Saturday

Nuthin'. Except for racing. That's another story, and another blog, altogether.

Keeping Bath and Body Works in Business

So the other day I started counting the various scented products I have in my house.

I have:

20 different flavors of scented lotion and body splash (that does not count 3 scents that are purse sized in my office, or the 2 different types of Lubriderm I have in my house and office)
2 flavors of perfume
6 flavors of body wash
5 different scented soaps, 6 if you count Ivory
3 kinds of shampoo
2 types of face wash
2 types of conditioner
6 flavors of bubble bath
3 scents made for specifically foot rubs and/or exfoliation

I can literally wear a different scent to work every day for an entire month, never wearing the same scent twice. I'm going to cause somebody to have a serious allergy one of these days.

On another note:

My cousin just asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding, next spring, which is very sweet and very cool (I haven't met the groom yet but he sounds like a doll - plus he likes the X-Files). Of course this means I will have to buy two bridesmaid dresses, one for November this year for my brother's wedding, one for March or April next year. So I am keeping David's Bridal hopping. Think they have volume discounts? ;-)

Crappy Birthday To Me

By now you've probably heard what happened to Barbaro. The Kentucky Derby winner was euthanized today after complications from surgery. I saw it coming; the vet had been using the word 'quit' far more often than in the past, but I had had hope. Up until recently he'd been doing well and talk had been that he'd move to a farm soon. Then the problems began.

I'm afraid this means that any other horse that suffers the same injury will be euthanized immediately. I had hoped his survival would mean good things for other injured horses, but consensus will likely be they should be put down immediately.

This sport just breaks your heart sometimes.

Movie Review - Adaptation

Nicholas Cage is fond of being the action-hero type - tough, craggy, dangerous. The problem is, he hasn't really looked in a mirror lately. Cage isn't action-hero handsome and instead of using that to his advantage, he signs up for movies that play to his ego rather than his strengths. (There wasn't anything wrong with National Treasure, for example - it was a travelogue of my last four vacations - but would the movie have been even better with Sean Bean in the lead and some other schlub as the bad guy? And is anybody really thrilled to see that ghost biker movie he's promoting right now?)

In Adaptation, Cage gives a fabulous performance. By playing against type. And, according to some movie notes I read, by playing the part not as he would have liked to play it but as the director insisted. He should listen more often.

Adaptation is the story of a pair of screenwriting brothers - Charlie and Donald Kaufman. Charlie writes deep-mind theater, while Donald writes scream-happy crap. Donald is becoming happily successful. Charlie is depressed, cranky and resentful, not to mention frustrated. He's just coming off his film "Being John Malkovich", which is another odd mind bender. That movie and this one rub elbows quite a bit, so you'll see a lot of familiar faces, including Maggie Gyllenhaal in a small role, and Malkovich himself, briefly, in the very beginning. (You should watch "Malkovich" first just to make it easier to figure out what's going on.)

Charlie is in the midst of trying to adapt a book called 'The Orchid Thief' by Susan Orlean (Meryl Streep). It's about a woman who writes an article about an orchid thief (Chris Cooper) and then expands it into a book that really doesn't have a narrative thread. Charlie is practically pulling his balding hair out trying to figure out what to say. He wants to meet Orlean but gets too shy to do so, so he has his twin brother do it. Donald, always more socially adjusted, realizes something is up.

Cage is perfect as the neurotic, balding, odd duck Charlie, and even has fun as the more self-assured yet self-delusional Donald. Charlie's worried eyes and slumped posture fit perfectly with Cage's nasal voice and creased forehead.

Streep is good as Orlean (the dial tone scene is funny), and Chris Cooper breathes life into another odd-duck character John LaRoche, who flits from obsession to obsession without a shred of self-recrimination or introspection. This is Cooper at his oddly creepiest, yet LaRoche is very clear on who he is, while many of the other characters (not to spoil anything) are still trying to find that connection to self.

If this sounds ambitious, it is. We don't really understand the obsession with orchids, but it's not really about that anyway. It's about, no surprise, adaptation. Who are we? How do we make do with who we are and where we are? What makes us happy and connected?

This is one of those 'critics-darling' movies, and I'll be honest in saying I'd rather just be entertained. When the movie takes on its action angle, it's mocking itself and its characters, but after a while, I sat with furrowed brow, wondering where this is going and how it all can go so wrong. I prefer redemption for my characters, and it's true Charlie finds it by the end, but too many other souls have gone wrong by that point to make it feel worthwhile. Anyway, I'll be honest and show my lack of class and say in the end the film got a little too artsy-fartsy for me, even though I did like the line, "Catherine Keener is in my house???"

Animal Trauma: None that I could see, although I did watch an edited version taped from Oxygen network. However, having to see Cooper's bare butt is enough to make you cringe.

Overall: It's ambitious but alienating and a little slow. I give it two and a half roses out of five.

DVD Review - An Inconvenient Truth

It's easy enough to throw the tin can in the trash, or run down to the store one more time for salsa. But you might just change your mind about that after seeing this Oscar-nominated documentary. The glorified slide show An Inconvenient Truth encourages you to recycle, buy energy efficient appliances and buy a hybrid vehicle, mostly by showing you just how close our Earth is to big-time disaster. (And we're closer than you think.)

In the interest of full disclosure, I have been known to hug trees in my day. (It's an odd but vaguely stirring feeling, embracing something so old and so still but unquestionably alive. I recommend you try it at least once. But I digress.) So I was already open to the messages former Vice President Al Gore was going to share with us and his studio audience. Still, even I wasn't prepared for the depths he plumbs in an hour and a half.

Gore's schtick is still political but he's thorough in his persuasion. He takes complex environmental theories and data, and explains them through the use of bar graphs, charts, pictures and short videos so that even the densest viewer can follow just how bad it would be if, say, Greenland just melted away. And he does it all with the assurance and persuasiveness of a man used to being in front of an audience. He doesn't use straight scare tactics; he approaches the material carefully and with a genuine understanding and care. Here's a guy who knows his stuff, and he knows how to make sure you get it too. If you don't catch yourself sucking in a deep breath at least once during this movie, you're not paying attention.

The focus is almost strictly on global warming, and what that means for you and me. It's an abstract concept, one that most of us think of only when the mercury tops 100 on a sweaty July day. But the problem is, Gore says, it's bigger than that. We're rushing wholesale into a time when our air might not be breathable, when our oceans could rise 20 feet and flood significant parts of Florida, New York and California, when our inland lakes and seas are drying up to become red deserts. This is happening world-wide, but Gore does point out the US is the worst offender. He takes a few shots at the Bush administration (you can't mention the Kyoto Treaty without doing so) but he doesn't lay it all at Dubya's feet. And he shows how the effect doesn't hit just the States but the rest of the world too. How days are getting hotter. How the ice is breaking up at the poles. How fresh water resources are being depleted. (And what he doesn't say, but I picked up from my own research is, when that happens, guess what? The world will come to Michigan to draw water from the Great Lakes. So this has a bigger implication for the Wolverine state.)

This movie can also be titled "The Resurrection of Al Gore." The slideshow is broken up into personal segments highlighting the Man Who Would Be President, presumably to distract the viewer from the 'This is a slide show!' realization. Gore is unquestionably the star, and at times it feels like environmentalism, his raison d'etre, takes a back seat to 'look at what you COULD have had in the White House.'

That's one of the movie's drawbacks. The other is the fact that there are few solutions presented. From my study it's clear to me that the problems we face can't be solved by individual change alone, although individual change certainly puts a dent in the problem. But we can't do it while companies belch carbon monoxide and other pollutants from their smokestacks tons at a time, earning tax breaks and little environmental oversight. Corporations and governments need to change their policies instead of shouting 'but that will cost jobs!' whenever someone proposes tougher environmental standards (instead, say, of finding ways to move some of those workers into new positions enforcing the tougher environmental standards - Big 3, I'm talking to you regarding the CAFE standards). Gore wants you to take the problem seriously, and a few solutions roll with the credits, but the overall solution doesn't really lie with you and me - it's up to the United States government, regardless of who is in power, to start cleaning up the mess. Unfortunately, it's politically expedient to look at the short term answer. Gore doesn't call out the offenders with the vitriol they actually earn.

And you and I shouldn't feel powerless either. Every little bit helps - it has to. Covering our eyes to the problem isn't going to make it go away, and our efforts might be able to encourage bigger effort. Gore does touch on that, probably because after a while this video starts to feel a little hopeless.

On a lighter note, in the Extras, Gore updates the data he presented in the slide show. It's then I notice that he's starting to really sport a combover - nowhere near Carl Levin status, for example, but watch the slicked-back hair action. I think someone should admit he's lost some hair and move on. Can hair gel deplete the environment?

Animal Trauma: A cartoon polar bear and a cartoon frog are placed in jeopardy. In the extras, there is a still shot of a horse crossing sands that used to be a lake. I dare you not to start singing "I've been through the desert on a horse with no name."

Overall: If this doesn't persuade you that we're in a world of hurt, nothing will. I give it four roses out of five.

Movie Review - Phantom of the Opera

Before I get to my movie review, I want to say I just realized I have to moderate the comments, so that's why your comments didn't get posted until today. Some change I must have selected without knowing it, I guess. Sorry!

And on to the movie review...

I got HBO free for a few months when I signed up to Comcast and so I have been taping several movies and am now just getting around to watching them. Phantom of the Opera is one of those films.

Most of you already know the story of the Phantom of the Opera. Orphaned chorus girl Christine Daae has been taking voice lessons from an anonymous benefactor she calls the Angel of Music. When theatrical diva Carlotta won't go on during a performance of 'Hannibal', Christine gets her chance and becomes a sensation. While on stage, her old friend Raoul sees her and the two fall in love, angering the Phantom, who has been Christine's anonymous teacher. And struggle ensues.

The movie stays fairly close to the theatrical performance. Andrew Lloyd Webber worked with Joel Schumacher on the screenplay and added a few bits here and there, based on the original novel, so there's more backstory than you'll see on the stage. I found some of that a little distracting, as I did the black and white flashbacks; I much prefer to get lost in the colorized moment.

Speaking of the auction, I was thrilled to see the movie keeps my favorite moment, when the auctioneer selling an old chandelier says he'd like "a little illumination. Gentlemen?" And as they whip the covering off the chandelier, it bursts into colorful life to the strains of the organ overture. That's one of those moments I can be watching the movie, the stage play or just listening to the CD and the hair on my arms stands up. That's when I knew this movie wouldn't deviate from the successful stage performance, and that's to the film's benefit. Why mess with a worldwide success?

Emmy Rossum plays Christine and to say she has a voice is an understatement of the highest degree. I found myself wondering why we hadn't seen her in more films since this one, then wondered if she was doing stage work. She should be. She filmed this role at 16 and she sounds amazing - she carries the highs and the lows of Christine's singing with little effort. Plus she's gorgeous, so you can understand why men are fighting over her. I'll admit I was a bit surprised that we get a shot or two of her thigh high stockings - especially once I realized how young she was. This is a sexier Phantom.

Patrick Wilson plays Raoul, and he too has a lovely voice, if you can look past the nancy-boy haircut. (He looks more manly when his hair is pulled back, which is only done once.) He is a stage veteran and it shows vocally, so his duets with Christine will remind you of being in the theater. This is a bit of a 'white hat' role - he's asked to play the Prince Charming, oh-so-good. He has a title, he dances eloquently, he rides horses bareback to rescue the damsel in distress. I hear the swooning now.

Of course he has to do this to fight his rival for Christine's affections, a 'black hat' who is not quite a villain, a sexy, open-neck-shirt-wearing Phantom who gropes Christine while singing to her (I hear more swooning). Gerard Butler plays the Phantom with a stronger dose of testosterone than I'd seen on stage, and it would be effective - if his voice could play along. He doesn't have the requisite vibratto to keep up with Emmy Rossum, and when the two sing together, he's aiming for force, while she's aiming for range, and that's distracting. His is a rock band voice, which I understand from reading IMDB was what Webber wanted, but it doesn't fit.

In fact, that was my big complaint with the movie. Some of the voices are exquisite. Some are merely in tune (Ciarin Hinds is another example of a voice that wouldn't work on Broadway). Some casting changes would have evened out the vocals and focused attention where it should be - songs that stick in your mind, gorgeous sets, strong acting.

Even if you don't recognize a lot of the faces in this film, you should recognize Minnie Driver, having a riotously good time as the diva Carlotta. She does not do her own singing, but it looks like she's having so much fun that you can imagine her breaking into snorts of laughter the minute the director yells 'cut'. She's supposed to be over the top, and she does it with panache. Why she doesn't get good comedies is a mystery. Also, Miranda Richardson plays Madame Giry, and the movie actually fleshes out her role, which cleared up a few things I had missed from the stage performance.

One other note that occurred to me while watching this movie, and I hope you won't see this as a spoiler if you don't know the story. Christine's father told her about the Angel of Music before he died - so at first she thinks the Phantom is her father's ghost. Yet there are a few scenes where she's clearly hot under the collar for the Phantom. Does this strike you as a bit creepy? Me too.

Animal Trauma: None, although you'll find yourself feeling sorry for Carlotta's lapdog and the on-stage sheep. The movie also restores a few horses apparently found in the original text that aren't utilized on stage.

Overall: Exquisite sets, attractive leads, a great story and songs, and a few mediocre voices. I give this film three roses out of five.