Friday, August 18, 2006

AW Blog Chain, Round Four

I should have saved my previous post for the Blog Chain, as the subject of parents came up in Simon's post at The Hal Spacejock Series. Alas, I shall endeavor to write something new for my entry into Chain #4.

His mention of Australia jogged my memory a bit. I still keep in touch with a small group of friends from high school, mostly guys my own age (I was always the girl that guys were friends with, but never dated). For the last few years, we've been tossing around plans for a trip to Australia one summer. Go over for a week, hang out and see the lovely country. I'm not sure why we picked Australia, but I'd love to go. I've always wanted to go.

The trouble is that I am poor. I work in retail, and I'm lucky if I net $20 grand a year. I have student loans, credit card bills, car insurance, rent, and utilities every month, which leaves very little grocery and fun money. That last few times I tried to save some money up, my car broke. So I'm not tempting fate again.

One of my best friends called me a few weeks ago, and he mentioned the Australia trip.

Did I still want to go?
Of course!


But they are thinking next year or the year after, and I don't know if I can save that much. And I tell him that.

What if money wasn't an issue?
Um, Eric, my friend, money will always be an
issue.
But what if it isn't?
Then I guess I'd be in.


He offered to pay for me. Out of the blue and like it wasn't even a big deal. Eric and I have known each other since the first grade. Twenty years, next month. Even if I don't end up taking his offer (I teeter very close to that "too proud to accept charity" line), I am amazed at his generosity in offering.

It's a wonderful feeling, to know that I have friends like that.

The next link in the chain is Of Chapters and Reels.


Also, here is the entire Round 4 Line-Up.

Peregrinas
Pass the Torch
The Road Less Travelled
Fireflies in the Cloud
Even in a Little Thing
The Secret Government Eggo Project
Curiouser and Curiouser
At Home, Writing
Mad Scientist Matt's Lair
I, Misanthrope - The Dairy of a Dyslexic Writer
Beyond the Great Chimney Production Log
Flying Shoes
Everything Indian
The Hal Spacejock Series
Organized Chaos
Of Chapters and Reels
Just a Small town girl
Midnight Muse
Kappa no He

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Parental Protection Rights

I love my parents. I really do. But one of these days I will smack them both upside the head with something hard.

They have a bad habit of not telling me when something medical is happening with my dad. He has high blood pressure and a history of clogged arteries in and around his heart. Two angioplasties (I'm too lazy to look up the proper spelling) in the past seven years, plus a handful of operations to relieve numbness in his leg. Nine times out of ten, I find out about these surgeries AFTER they have taken place. I hated it when I was in college, and I hate it now.

I've lived on my own (as on my own as I can be with a roomie and two cats) for the last three and a half years. I'm twenty-six years old. I'm not a child, and I don't want them to continue to protect me from my dad's medical problems. They've worried about me my entire life. I think I have earned the right to worry about them once in a while.

I called my dad last Friday night to tell him I'd be visiting for two days. Here's the conversation...

Dad: When will you be here?
Me: I'll drive in Sunday morning, and leave early Tuesday, because I have to work that night.
Dad: I--hold on.....{muffled sounds, speaking to my mom}...going into...hospital.... {more muttering and mumbling} Okay, never mind.
Me: What about the hospital?
Dad: Oh, she heard me. I'm going in Wednesday for some test.
Me: For the thing that was wrong with your foot?
Dad: No, I've just been having some backpain.

Okay, so I accepted that. Sunday night, it's dinner with the 'rents, plus my older sister. She hadn't a clue about the hospital tests until I told her, so we both attacked after dinner was over.

Turns out that the backpain is a lump, situated between his kidney, liver and pancreas. The Docs are doing a biopsy on Wednesday (TESTS???? Gee, thanks for downplaying it, Dad). So far blood tests are normal, and he doesn't have any other symptoms, so the Docs are pretty sure it's not malignant.

So I throw the whammy question: If I hadn't overheard you on the phone the other night, when would you have told us about this biopsy? The day after, or when you got the results back?

Mom and Dad share a look. "When we got the results back."

I almost threw my corncob at his head. I know they want to protect us, but I want to know these things! I don't want to find out that not only did he have the biopsy without telling us, but that it's cancer (but pray it's not). I've told them, but it never sinks in. Ever since, I have had two lines from The Patriot stuck in my head.

Heath Ledger: I'm not a child!
Mel Gibson: You're my child!

But Mom called last night, and the biopsy went well. Dad will be home tonight or tomorrow, I think. Now it's just waiting until his appointment next Thursday....

And now to end this rant on the immortal words of Inego Montoya: I hate waiting.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Gee, How Original.....

I love the idea of (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) guest starring on . The man needs more work, and more exposure. Julian Bashir was one of my favorite characters on DS9. Did I mention the accent?

My problem with Alexander Siddig guest starring on 24 next season? He's a recurring baddie. Siddig is of Middle-Eastern descent, so it leaves no question about who the big bads are. Again. ::sigh::

On the upside of casting news, Eric Balfour is back as techie Milo, reprising the role he played way back in season one. Someone new for Chloe to torture. I love continuity.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

I just love spreading good news. One of my favorite actors is coming back to TV. For a few episodes, anyway. But I'll take what I can get. I don't normally watch House, but for David Morse, I'll make an exception.


House Exclusive: David Morse Joins Cast!
Here's some fresh House prattle for you kids: The show has recruited former Hackster David Morse for a multi-episode arc. According to exec producer Katie Jacobs, Morse's character — a cop named Michael Tritter — will face off with Hugh Laurie in a battle of egos. "House is going to piss off the wrong guy, and
that guy just happens to be a cop," Jacobs reveals. "[Tritter's] really going to hold House accountable. We're going to have some fun with that."

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Productivity

I have to give myself and my co-author a huge pat on the back. I don't think I've ever had such a productive writing day. Between the two of us (over both MSN and Yahoo Messenger), we managed to write 7900 words of our novel (31 pages). The novel now stands at just over 55,000 words. It's difficult to project a final word count, but I'd guess somewhere in the neighborhood of 90,000.

Time to listen to some Chevelle and go to bed. My butt needs a rest from this desk chair.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

JLo A Psychic?

She must be, since she saw the obvious failure-in-the-making that is the big-screen Dallas movie, and dropped out of playing Sue Ellen.

Now the question on my mind is this: When will Shirley MacLaine come to her senses?

Sunday, July 30, 2006

More Eighties Remakes?

You know, I think Hollywood is in trouble. And the first sign of trouble is the lack of creativity spewing forth from the local cineplex. And perhaps the most troubling sign of all is the proliferation of remakes. Not just TV show-turned movie. I'm talking about remaking a movie that's less than twenty years old.

The two most recent (and horrifying) examples? Revenge of the Nerds and Adventures in Babysitting. I kid you not.

How do you top Anthony Edwards, Robert Carradine, Timothy Busfield, Curtis Armstrong, and Brian Tochi? Seriously. How???? You don't. If this becomes another Ben Stiller/Vince Vaughn vehicle, I think I'm going to vomit. Nevermind the fact that they are too old for the parts....

And AiB? Starring Raven-Symone? I think my heart just stopped as I typed those words. Um, anyone remember the story? Suburban white kids lost in the bad streets of Chicago? Elisabeth Shue singing in a black jazz club? Can you really see Disney allowing Raven to utter the infamous line, "Don't f*ck with the babysitter"?

I mentioned remakes to my roommate last night, lamenting to her: "Why do they have to keep remaking the classics?" I paused, thought about it, and then deadpanned, "I guess it wouldn't make sense to remake a bad movie."

Unfortunately, what tends to happens is that remakes of good movies become bad movies.

Another vicious cycle.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Fat Attack!

I usually check out the news articles posted on the MSN homepage. They are there when I log on, so why not? One in particular caught my attention this evening, and I linked to an article about the worst fast food offerings out there.

You can read the entire article here. I've quoted a few sections that just made my stomach churn and my toes curl.

McDonald’s Deluxe Breakfast is a smorgasbord of bad-for-you foods—including eggs, sausage, pancakes smothered in syrup and margarine, hash browns and a biscuit. In moderation, any of these items could be an OK (if occasional) breakfast, but add them together and you’re looking at a grand total of 1,220 calories, 550 of them from fat, including 17 grams of saturated fat.

Burger King’s Triple Whopper With Cheese is a perfect example of why more is not better. A regular Whopper With Cheese already delivers 760 calories, 47 grams of total fat including 16
grams of saturated fat. But when you triple it up, this meal tips the scales at 1,230 calories and 82 grams of fat including 32 grams of saturated fat. (And that’s before you order a side of fries!)


Popping into Cinnabon for a Caramel Pecanbon isn’t exactly a breakfast of champions. This gooey pastry packs 1,100 calories and 56 grams of fat, while providing virtually no worthwhile nutrients.

The fried chicken seems like an obviously unhealthy choice at KFC, but it’s actually not the fattiest item on the menu. The Mashed Potato Bowl With Gravy contains 690 calories and 31 grams of fat, nine of them saturated.


Makes me want to go eat an apple.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

The New Picture In Town


I feel the need to explain a bit about my new Profile pic (and to continue spreading Connor yumminess).

At Shore Leave this year, I plunked down the extra fee for a Photo Op with Connor Trinneer (Enterprise, Stargate: Atlantis). I have loved the character he played on Enterprise since the moment he appeared on-screen. There's just something about wholesome southern good-boy-ness that makes me melt.

Anywho, here's the photo in all its colored glory, plus autograph. We actually chatted for a moment about the merits of drinking Pedialyte while suffering from a cold (we both had one that weekend), as he signed this photo. Anyone who sits at a table and autographs for four hours, and then does an hour long Q&A is okay in my book.

And it doesn't hurt that the man is adorable.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Snobbery

You can thank my friend Shelly for this post. During an IRC chat last night, we started talking about the different things we liked to write. I recalled how much fun I had writing essays in college, and that some of them were quite humorous. She asked if we would ever see them posted on my blog.

Your wish is my command. I found my little plastic file box full of multi-colored floppy disks shoved under the nether regions of my desk, the whole thing covered in dust. And cat hair. Gross.

Disks perfectly preserved, the relics of a by-gone day (so by-gone that the computer I use now didn't even come with an A-Drive when I bought it three years ago). I found the essay I had mentioned, written in the spring of 2002. As I reread those words, I found my fingers inching toward the delete key, the space bar, and various other editing tools.

I refrained, and instead, present this essay in its final grade glory (I don't remember what the grade was, but this is the draft I turned in). Minor caveat: the Christian references are not meant as any sort of bashing against Christians or non-Christians. I attended a private Christian college, so most of our papers had this theme.


Kelly M.
ENG 304W
Final Draft
The Snob in All of Us
Everyone has been accused or accused someone else of being a snob at one time or another. If you're shaking your head and thinking "not me," you are either a shut-in or in denial. Snobbery affects all of us, even when we don't realize it. While we all think of that Barbie girl from high school who made fun of our faded sweaters and holey jeans, the word "snob" has not always carried a direct negative connotation. Let's take a closer look at what this word really means.

According to my tiny, desk-sized Webster's dictionary, a snob is "a person who considers himself better than anyone else and who looks down on those he considers to be his inferiors." I know a lot of Christians like that. Unsatisfied with this definition, I turned to that from which great knowledge comes: The Internet. After scrolling down past the ample "Try your search for snob at" listings, Dictionary.Com provided me with a number of satisfying definitions from, among other sources, Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary. My little desk-size will now retire to its shelf in shame to gather dust.

So what is a snob? According to the internet--which is never wrong--a snob is, 1) a townsman, 2) a journeyman shoemaker, and 3) a workman who accepts lower than the usual wages, or who refuses to strike when his fellows do. Certainly not the definitions we think of today. If they were answers on Jeopardy, we would likely come up with the questions, 1) What is a citizen? 2) What is a traveling cobbler? and 3) What is a scab?

Ah, but hidden amongst numerous pop-up ads, I found a much more satisfactory definition of a snob. "One who tends to patronize, rebuff or ignore people regarded as social inferiors." Sound like anyone you know? If I listed names, there would be no room for the remainder of my essay, so we'll leave that as a rhetorical question. Combined with Webster's previous definition, we can now define snobbery as the act of looking down on someone because you feel they are inferior to you. Yet snobbery is not only limited to looking down on people. The things you can patronize, rebuff or ignore are limitless. A snob resides in all of us.

Now don't confuse snobbery with personal preference. "I like GAP clothing because it fits me better" is a personal preference. All well and good. "I can't believe you buy your clothes at Wal-Mart. Lerner New York is the ONLY place to shop." That is snobbery at its capitalist best. I knew a girl like that my first year of college. The idea of wearing the Kathy Ireland K-Mart collection made her break out in hives.

I've already succeeded in weeding out the clothing snobs amongst us (you know who you are). I was recently clued-in to the existence of fish snobs. Really. A student here on campus--we'll call him Jarod--said he will not waste his time with fish that do not hold his attention. Jarod is very careful about the fish he allows to live in his tank. Strange? Perhaps. I suppose there is a moral lesson here about discrimination, but I'll leave that to the philosophers out there.

In the art world, there exists what I will call the Thomas Kincade snobs. You see, there is a belief in the art world that you cannot be truly appreciated as an artist until after you are dead. For examples, please type "Picasso, Pablo" or "Van Gogh, Vincent" into your favorite net browser and hit Search. Among this sect of artists, it was once commented that there is only so much oxygen in the art world and people such as Kincade and Christian Reese Lassen suck it all up. I suppose it would do me well not to tell them I am a big Lassen fan. I even have one of his calendars.

The truly amazing thing about snobbery is that it does not discriminate. The word "snob" can be applied to anyone, regardless of gender, race, horoscope or shoe size. Especially Christians. And if that offends you, don't read further, because I can assure you it doesn't get any nicer. And if you're waiting for lightning to strike me dead, you're out of luck. Yes, Christians are snobs. Some Christians are culture snobs. I speak specifically of those people who will not go see a movie/read a book/watch a TV show, but declare it moral garbage on the grounds that it "isn't Christian." After I clue them into the fact that Christian is a noun and not an adjective, I will ask if being a snob is considered "Christian?" If Aunt Bessie and Uncle Remus condemn "Lord of the Rings" as supernatural filth unworthy of their attention (or the three hours it takes to watch the entire thing), are they not rebuffing what they consider inferior? Snob.

This element of snobbery is most readily found in the ever-present argument between pre- and post-millennialists, fundamentalists and liberals. Should we engage culture? Post-millennial liberals will nod, give a hearty YES, and then show scripturally supported reasons why we should. Pre-millennial fundamentalists will shudder, cast you from their inner circle for uttering such nonsense, and then show scripturally supported reasons why we should not. Enaging culture? Puh-lease. As if Jesus ever went out onto the street to converse with average folk or eat dinner with his Gentile neighbors.

Perhaps what irks these Christian snobs the most is popular culture's ability to flourish no matter how much they denounce, rebuff, patronize, or ignore it. Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the Christian Culture Snob Sect, Harry Potter is here to stay. But I suppose it is the duty of the snob to hold their ground and never give in to that which is inferior.

Unfortunately, with snobbery always comes those discriminated against, rising up in anger and/or defense. For every Evangelical Weekly article telling us why our children should not read Harry Potter, thirty more elementary age kids are rediscovering their love of reading in the land of Quidditch and Hogwart's Academy (that's in England for those of you who don't care to read Harry, but quickly enough offer up your opinion that it is garbage). Some artists hate Thomas Kincade, yet thousands of average folk collect his paintings, calendars, throws and greeting cards. You may love shopping at DKNY, but I find the prices at Wal-Mart much more appealing. And once, if you are lucky enough, the high school Barbie will trip over her trendy shoes and fall on her perfectly painted face.

Snobbery is not always easy to pinpoint. For the easy-going individual, nothing appears out of the ordinary. Ce la vi, to each his own, and all that jazz. But beneath that casual exterior, faded jeans, and Salvation Army T-shirt is a firey intolerance for brand labels. A lover of poetry may have the deeply hidden hatred for that insidious, five-line gremlin called the limerick. Snobbery is harder to pinpoint in some people, but everyone has something to hide. Even if they won't admit it.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

AW Blogger Chain, Round Three

I stepped out of the Second Round of the because of personal reasons, but here I am for Round Three. Previously, on Southern Expressions, Andrea wrote a little about technology.

One piece of technology in particular caught my attention: cellular phones. Nowadays we have cameras on our phones, internet on our phones, and some can even record video. And here I thought that a phone was for making a call to someone. Silly me.

I have a small Nokia phone. It's text message capable, but I don't use it. I don't even have my voice mail set up. It's mostly for emergencies, or if I need to call someone while I'm out (at the store, stranded on the side of the road, that sort of thing). It's not attached to my ear or my hip. I don't talk on it while I'm in line at the grocery store, and I think those Nextel walkie talkie things are the work of the Devil. I have a camera for taking pictures and internet on my computer.

This morning I watched a few minutes of an E.R. rerun from way back in season two or three (ah, the George Clooney days). A patient used a cell phone the size of a paperback novel (although not quite as wide), with a pull-out antenna and a flip-out cover. You remember the type. Just like you remember the brick-sized phone that Zack Morris carried around on Saved by the Bell, circa 1993.

As cell phones get smaller and smaller, they become more noticeable in TV reruns and movies. For me, at any rate.

24 is a great example of modern cell phone technology. In season one, Jack Bauer and Company had small flip phones that they actually held up to their ears. By season three, they had those hands-free cords that connects a little earpiece to a mike that hangs by your mouth. Season five (this year) gave Jack the little cordless earpiece. In two years his phone will be the size of a hearing aid, with no handset required. Just wait. I'm calling it now.

And I can't believe I just googled this, but About.com has a long entry about the history of cell phones. In case you're interested.

Next up in the chain, Kappa no He.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Catching up

Golly, it feels like weeks since I last posted here. Life has taken quite a few sharp turns lately, keeping me away from my little corner of the blogosphere.

My grandmother passed away on June 22. She was eighty-eight years old, and she had been battling uterine cancer for almost two years. It spread to her bones, but she fought as long as she could. Grandma was a fighter, and I loved her strength. My half-brother Tim was with her when she died, and I'm glad of that. She wasn't alone.

I went home to my parents' house in Delaware. My father, sister and her boyfriend, and I finished cleaning out Grandma's apartment on June 24th. My birthday. It was a surreal thing, to give away furniture that she had owned for as long as I can remember, to go through old photographs and her jewelry box, to throw away shoes and slips and stained shirts.

We thought that the insane thunderstorms that weekend would prevent us from having the funeral on Tuesday 27th. Seaford was flooded in several places, a dam had broken near Nanticoke Hospital, and the Wal-Mart parking lot was under water. But water recedes, and the sun was shining by the time we reached the cemetary. It was a nice service, but trying so hard to block tears was exhausting.

I returned to work that Wednesday, and a sore throat crept up on me during the evening. My Friday, it was a full blown head-cold, complete with fever, sore throat, coughing, and chest congestion. I never felt awful enough to call in sick (not that I could have, with two of the four managers on vacation this week), but work was miserable.

I did manage to see Superman Returns this past Sunday. I had to give it 3/5 stars. It lost a whole star because of Kate Bosworth. I just DO NOT like her as Lois Lane. She is too young to be an experienced, award-winning reporter and a five-year old son. She doesn't have the screen presence for such a strong, confident character. It ruined what probably would have been a great movie. For me, at least. Brandon Routh was fantastic. Kevin Spacey and Parker Posey were priceless ("Gee, that's really something Lex." "Wait for it." ::waits:: "Gee, that's really something, Lex.") James Marsden more than makes up for his lack of X3 screentime here, and we get to see his eyes!

Now I am poised to head for Shore Leave, still sporting a cough and runny nose. ::insert sarcastic snort of choice:: Oh joy.

My roommates at the convention may stick me in the hallway if my coughing keeps them up, but no matter. Connor Trinneer will be there!! As will Jamie Bamber. My best friend will tell you all about my Connor and Jamie obsessions. They rank right up there with my Patrick Dempsey obsession. Hopefully I'll return with fun autographs, some great pictures, and more cool memories.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

A Buffy Sort of Day

Something put Buffy on my brain yesterday, and I honestly can't remember where she came from. But I had a day off today, so I decided to start watching my DVD's of . From season one. It's like revisiting old friends. Innocent Willow, dorky Xander, over-stuffed Giles, and Buffy when she still had a figure.

With the episodes on in the background, I continued to surf the 'Net, and I came across an interview with Buffy-creator on the Wizard Entertainment website. It's a fun interview that covers the gamut of Joss's various professional endevours (TV, movies, comic books, etc...).

I wanted to share this particular section, because it sounds like something I'd buy.


BENDIS: [Laughs] Oh, speaking of, I saw on the board tonight they announced the new Buffy comic. You’re gonna write a new Buffy comic?

WHEDON: I am, in fact. This was originally a concept that was designed to tie in to some Buffy movies that are probably not going to happen. So now the comic is out there twisting in the wind by itself. But I have this arc; this concept of what I refer to as “Season 8” of “Buffy,” which is the “What happens next?” Although it’s very much more comic book in scale and style and time frame. Everyone’s like, “What week will it pick up during?” And I’m like, “It’s not quite like that.” What I’m doing is working with Georges Jeanty. He’s gonna be drawing the first four, which I’m writing. And Jo Chen’s gonna do the covers. I’m a huge fan of hers. I have this arc laid out which I’m sort of writing up as where I want the series to go and then I’m gonna be bringing in anybody from the camp or any of our friends who have the time to do arcs within that. Just sort of servicing certain beats and then going off on their own. Because at this point, it’s sort of fair game. There are certain characters I’ve been saving because I thought I might make movies about them, but that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.

BENDIS: Why isn’t that going to happen?

WHEDON: I think money is standing in the way. What is ever in the way? What ever makes anything happen or not happen?


I'd love to see this comic come to fruition (even if I still hold out hope for a "Spike" TV movie).

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Does the World Need Another Remake?

First Will Smith brought The Wild, Wild West to the silver screen.

Now rumor is Eminem will star in an update of Have Gun, Will Travel.

What's next? LL Cool J and Lil Bow Wow do Bonanza?

I suppose one good thing could come of the new HG, WT. Since he basically played himself in 8 Mile, we can finally answer the lingering question: Can Eminem actually act?

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

AW Blogger Chain

The best part of participating in the blogger chain is the excuse to spend so much time reading other people's blogs. I just read quidscribis's entry on her lovely blog. She talked about the Edmonton Oilers being in the Stanley Cup finals this year, and while I have nothing to say about hockey (except that I'm a huge fan of Disney's Mighty Ducks films), it made me think about oil.

Stay with me, this is going someplace fun.

Recently I have spent a lot of time thinking about a trip that my dad and I made across the country. From December 30 to January 5, 2001, we drove from Lewes, Delaware to Los Angeles, California. I had just been accepted to the Los Angeles Film Studies program, and would be spending my spring semester at that center, interning in the business, and taking classes in filmmaking and screenwriting.

As much as I adored my time in LaLa Land, I treasure that week I spent on the road with my dad. Along the way we visited , Little Rock, Oklahoma City, The Petrified National Forest, Hoover Dam, , and a California Ghost Town. We drove parallel to old , and even on it for a short stretch. We stopped in antique malls, trading posts, souvenir shops, and even a mall.

We discovered Bucket of Blood Street, which intersected with a railroad (go figure). I wore out my camera taking nine rolls of film (one whole roll for the petrified forest alone). I have two scrapbooks of the experience, including my time in L.A., and the drive home (that time we took a northern route across Colorado and Kansas).

So where's the oil? What does this have to do with anything?

I saw my very first oil rig on that trip. Just a few of them dotting the Oklahoma landscape, but it was a moment. I had not been further west than Ohio at that point in my life, and the oil rigs were the first truly new thing on that trip. Something I had never seen in person before. There would be many more things before the week was over (dry gulches and desert plants, the Painted Desert, Vegas), but those rigs were the first.

As a family, my dad has taken us fishing, crabbing, to the mountains and ocean, to theme parks and water parks, antiquing and caving. But that trip is a special memory. Something just the two of us shared, and an experience I will never forget.

And I now pass the baton to Wendelynn.

Frankenstein Scandal

They call it a cheap horror movie.

I call it an episode of Bones.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Windfall Worth Picking Up?

I decided to give NBC's summer show a chance. I don't usually watch shows in the summer, because they have a tendency to end up cancelled (unless they are reality shows, or air on USA/TNT). But the concept intrigued me (20 people share a $300 million lottery ticket) and the cast had a decent pedigree (Boomtown alums Lana Parilla and , and 24 survivor Sarah Wynter). Plus .

The verdict? Blah. The pilot didn't catch me. I'll give it one more week, but that's it.

While the idea is a good one, the show suffers from its bloated cast. Twenty winners means twenty show regulars. That is too many characters. Even now, I can only remember the names of four of the characters. They spend time trying to show you all of the winners (the hard-working mom who suffers through two jobs and annoying trailer park neighbors, the punk teen with an angry dad, a divorcing couple whose storyline was beyond predictable, a rebel with a past wooing an upperclass lawyer), and each ends up suffering for lack of screentime.

I have no feel for any of the characters, and the little love triangle they set up between Gideon (Gedrick), Nina (Parilla), and Beth (Wynter) is both tiresome, and a little icky (but icky for a purely personal reason*). I mean, yes, Gedrick is a hottie, but dude! I'd stick with Luke Perry any day, especially with that post-Dylan Walsh maturity he's developed.

I'll give it one more ep to see if it sticks.


*The personal reason is the fact that on a PBEM I run, I cast Gedrick, Parilla, and Wynter as siblings. Four years ago, before this show was a twinkle in its creator's eye. Seeing them making out just gives me the willies.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Spin This

Well, it seems that while God will give Pat Robertson an advanced weather report, He won't give him advanced warning of a fatal plane crash.

Spin this one, Pat.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

It's a Mad, Mad World

Yes, I know that it's a movie. I've seen it. I was referencing Mad Libs, those wonderfully insane little stories you tell at sleepovers with your closest friends. Replacing something simple with something gut-wrenchingly funny.

In college, my roommates and I often unwound with a book of Mad Libs (and often some accompanying alcohol). We would do two or three in one sitting, often driving each other to tears in the process. I could never read them out loud. I didn't have the self control.

Yesterday I stumbled across a little fuzzy notebook decorated with snowflakes (a gift out of an Advent basket from Jen's grandparents). In it I had written our "Best Of…" quotes. Lines that were funny, quotable, and unforgettable. I wanted to post a few here. Hopefully you, dear reader, will enjoy them as well.

*Beverage warning*

At present, we are sneezing directly over Louisiana.

A ghoul, in Asian folklore, is a gaseous spirit that forgets graves and feeds on the toes of the dead.

My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very scary and purple. He should have the physique of Tom Hanks, a profile like Oprah, and the intelligence of a parrot.

He should whisper sarcastic nothings in my nose.

Her eyes are like two beat-up pools of Jello.

Karate will enable you to defeat any banana who attacks you.

This should secrete your opponent's collarbone and dislocate his/her loincloth.

You are about to give birth to a vending machine.

We are here to celebrate her earwax.

You will inherit a large sum of tornadoes from a dear, departed doormat.

All I had was a couple of scrambled envelopes and a glass of tears.

You said you provided guests will a welcome basket of Slinkies. All I found in my room was a trashy fire hydrant filled with old opinions.

Don't throw toenails at policemen.

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a vulture in a tangerine tree.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Support AbsoluteWrite


It looks like AbsoluteWrite won't get its database back without a legal fight. Jenna and her band of Merry Men (ie, the Heroes of the AW World) will be recreating the forums using the cached pages that members have been saving for the last week. It's amazing what you can find on Google with a little patience and a lot of free time. My hat is off you to folks.

Any spare pennies will be greatly appreciated in our efforts to restore AW as a valuable resource against scam agents, as well as a friendly community for writers.

A few more friendly links:

The AW Refugee Camp. Come check us out, and migrate back when the AW forum is re-established.

Dawno has a CafePress Store to support the AW restoration efforts.

Writer's Beware 20 Worst Agents. Always a good one to repeat.

Mac quoted it first, but it also bears repeating: You can't stop the signal.