Trading In This Body for a New One

If only that were possible. I would sign up right away.

This morning when I got up my old vertigo kicked in. It's very mild, comparitively speaking, but it does make for some unpleasantness (not to mention drunken walking) until the allergy pill and/or the Dramamine can kick in.

Docs have said it's likely an allergy thing. But it hasn't bothered me in a couple of years. And look, here it is again.

Not to mention the dodgy tum you've all heard me gripe about, and a few other annoying but hardly life-threatening problems.

Now, if I trade this body in for a new one, I'd like it to be taller and thinner, please. And more athletic if you can swing it. Thx.

How I'm Going To Handle the Writers' Strike

I have a plan. A real plan for surviving all the reruns that come with the holiday season and that could stretch out before us afterward, if the writers strike goes on forever. Yeah, and I like lists. And before you say it, of course I can read and do other things. I already do a lot of things while the TV is on. (Don't remind me of the craft projects I haven't finished!! Or my Christmas shopping. Or the dishes that need doing.) I'm just talking about my viewing.

1. I'll catch up on all the new episodes of my favorite shows, as they air. Pretty basic, and makes sense. Why not see what there is to see new while it's out there? Some shows are holding onto new episodes to air in mid-December or early January, even though they've already been filmed. That makes it all seem less dire. Plus I always tape a lot of stuff I haven't had time to watch yet, so I can catch up on those shows and at least one other tape of horse racing from this spring that I haven't watched yet. (If I had a DVD burner, I would spend a lot of my time transferring horse races to DVD. A girl can dream about her Christmas present under the tree, right?)

2. TV shows on DVD, of course. I have a season and a half of The 4400 on DVD to watch and return to a friend, and as far as I'm aware, there's at least one other season of that show on DVD that I can rent. Plus I have a ton of shows on DVD that I love and could easily rewatch - Buffy, Angel, X-Files, and a few other goodies - Firefly, Harsh Realm, Keen Eddie. Plus, I've been rewatching S2 of Supernatural on tape and listening to the accompanying podcasts.

3. TV shows online. I just realized that part of the second half of S3 of Battlestar Galactica is still online. Sure, I'd rather watch them all and in order, but if it comes down to it, I can easily fill in the blanks later when reruns air. Might as well know most of what's going on so that when S4 starts, I'm at least mostly up to speed. I DON'T plan to download episodes from I-Tunes; no point in paying for what's going to air eventually on TV anyway. Plus, well, I'm cheap.

4. Catch reruns of shows that are new to me. Everybody raves about 'Pushing Daisies' - if I know that it's going into reruns (as opposed to being replaced by reality TV) I'm considering watching it. There are probably other shows floating around out there that are just as worthy of watching.

5. Cable, baby. Reruns of Mythbusters, Dirty Jobs, Cold Case Files, Forensic Files, and those shows that I am still catching up on, like The 4400. There's a whole lot out there worth watching that I just haven't had time to see. Plus I can always watch old CSIs, guilty pleasures like World's Wildest Police Videos, you name it. In the summer I watch a lot of educational programming - I've probably seen every program on Egypt that's out there - and I can always do that now instead.

6. There are always movies. I'm not a big movie watcher anymore, but I can always, if need be, find a film or two I haven't seen that I'm interested in. I can rent 'em, borrow 'em or watch 'em on Turner Classic Movies.

So which of my shows might not survive the strike, in terms of my viewing? I think the writers and the shows are kind of shooting themselves in the foot. If I get out of the habit of watching a show, I'm going to have to want to get back into the habit. Bionic Woman is the show most at risk of being ditched. It's been inconsistent and I just don't care about the characters like I should. I've been watching it for BSG alums, mostly. I half-watch CSI:NY, mostly on On Demand and for the scenery.

I already ditched Prison Break this season - I just felt like with Sarah's death, it jumped the proverbial shark. I ditched CSI: Miami from last season - too many holey plots, and if I start picking apart your plot, you've got gaps.

Of course, then I'm worried about the shows that I love that might not survive the strike if it goes far too long, in terms of cancellation. Supernatural is the most likely one; it's barely hanging on as it was, and the CW has been messing with it pretty hard. I'd be peeved if I lost Reaper or Chuck too; I think Chuck's safe, but Reaper tends to be kind of repetitive. Moonlight could also suffer, but I'm not emotionally invested in this show, really. It's fun, but not appointment TV.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have one last tape of GhostHunters to watch...while I darn my socks.

Luv Dat Kitteh

I could be accomplishing something. I could be doing laundry, or dishes, or listening to one of my many stored up podcasts.

No, I'm looking at pictures of cute cats with goofy captions.

http://icanhascheezburger.com

I'm still laughing at the shot of the bushbaby with the hand behind it. Those big eyes! Yeah, it's not just cats - a few dogs and other animals too. There's a great elephant shot.

Seriously cool timewaster for work.

Must goe back too kittehs...

Weep

That sound you hear? Me weeping.

It's actually SNOWING outside.

*sob*

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.