The Beatles - Lady Madonna HD

Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - Panini Pua Kea

icky sticky

Just got back in from outside - our morning trip to the park was scuttled by nasty weather. At 9 or 10, it was already in the 30s with the humidex. ugh.

Why. Won't. Summer. Just. Die?

I'm against it

fire and brimstone

Listening to the vague strains of a Jerry Fallwell-like telepreacher coming in through the window from the workers' radio outside. Sounds like the construction dudes found Jesus, or are trying to.

Can't wait until the balcony renovations are done!

survival

Well, it looks like right now I have covered the essentials of my budget, except for about $50, which might not be too hard to scratch up. So, another month is nearly conquered. Now, we just have to eat until we get more grocery money... Oh well, I have always excelled in poverty-based home economics.

I finished editing and sent in the new draft.

Also, it looks like I now have a release date of May 2011 for the book! I must admit it's pretty exciting to have a tentative date - it makes it that much more real, like they won't change their minds now.

We're making due. We just have to keep it up for a bit longer...

ugh. phone.

I have to answer the phone every time it rings this morning, which is a practice I always avoid, as I am expecting a package from my folks.

I am at the mercy of telemarketers, bill collectors, and other unpleasant sorts.

(Especially bill collectors.)

My nerves are shot to hell.

bad dream

Last night, I dreamt that I, for some reason, decided to go grocery shopping at an all-night shopping mall a long bus ride away, and took the tot with me, without the sling or the stroller. I just had my little gym bag, so I am not sure what I planned on getting. I seem to recall it was something "fun" - like a desperate attempt to bring some joy into our lives.

Anyway, on the way into the store, Sprout was acting up, so I decided to buy him a muffin at the Tim's, despite the long, long lineup, before I did my shopping. Everyone was super-crabby, and the server was terrible. She kept ignoring people at random and slamming things. An hour past, it seemed, and still no muffin. I tried to make small talk with someone in the lineup, only to get bitched out, so I was pretty downcast by this point. Meanwhile, the tot had sat down at a table with his little dump truck, and was chattering at a bunch of teenagers sitting close by.

I don't know why, but in the dream, I just stood there, and was not really paying attention to what the tot was doing. I just stood, waiting to get that stupid muffin.

Suddenly, I decided to give up and just go home, but when I turned, the tot was gone!

For some reason, I ran into the adjacent laundry mat, and, again - I don't know why, I flung open a washer that had just started to fill with water. There was Sprout, asleep, on a bundle of laundry, with extremely hot water soaking the first couple of inches of clothes under him. Otherwise, he was fine, but I dread to think about what would have happened had I not gotten to him.

My heart pounding, I went back into the Tim's and demanded to know who had done this thing. One of the teens at the table near where Sprout had been sitting just glared at me, coldly. I screamed at him to tell me what he'd done, saying, "Don't you know what would have happened?"

He just casually, coldly shrugged, asking me where the hell I had been.

I stumbled over my explanation that I was trying to get a muffin, and the teens all just laughed. I was coming right back for him, I defended myself. "Shoulda, woulda, coulda," the teen sniped... And I knew he was right, that I had let Sprout down, and failed in my responsibilities. If he had drowned it would have been my fault.

The cold glares of everyone in the place cut me.

And then I woke up - feeling miserable. It took me a long while to reassure myself that it hadn't actually happened. It was just a dream.

But it is a clue that, somewhere, deep down, I am worried I am not living up to my responsibilities. I am turning my back. I am not paying attention. I am not doing what I should. I'm simply not trying hard enough to make sure Sprout is safe and cared for.

I know I would never, ever behave in real life as I did in the dream, and ignore him in a public place where anything like that could happen to him... But, I may be falling asleep at the financial switch, and other responsibilities I need to keep on top of to make sure he's housed and fed, and safe.

I need to do better.

What a terrible dream.

mornin, folks

This could be one heck of a day.

missive from the front

Editing today.

Took me an hour and a half to improve 10 pages. The book is 151 pages.

Now I understand why I hate to re-read my own work.

When Things Get Tough...

... the tough turn to country hurtin' songs.

computer error

RAWR!

anger

I'm angry today. I want to shout and throw things. This came on the heels of my isolation phase. I guess the next stage is, what? Bargaining? I'm already depressed, so maybe I'll skip that stage. I hope acceptance is right around the corner.

Not that I believe that whole "5 stages" crap... But it's nice to think acceptance and dealing with stuff is neigh. I just don't want to feel bad any more.

bad feeling

This morning, I woke up feeling like the world is about to cave in on me. Panic in my chest. One week left to the month, and a few things I have to do to take care of some stuff, and rent due shortly. A few stressful things.

Perhaps my nerves are just plain shot.

Otherwise, just another day just like every other day.

New in Town (2009)

I've heard the risque chestnut that women try anal sex twice: Once to see what it is like; the second time to see if it really was as bad as she remembers. Well, I am not commenting on anal sex, but I can say that that saying pretty much perfectly describes my experience with the dreadful New in Town (2009).

And, yes, it was as bad as I remembered.

It seemed innocuous enough: A fish-out-of-water romantic comedy about a no-nonsense business exec (the ever-pouting Renee Zellweger) coming from Miami to downsize a small Minnesota (a place I tend to like on film) factory. Sparks fly between her and the local union boss. (Played Harry Connick Jr - why is he in so many romcoms? He looks like someone's ugly cousin.)

Will love ensue? You're right in assuming so. In fact, from the opening credits, you are likely right in every single last prediction you have about this movie. It really is that paint-by-numbers. It makes not one step in the region of originality.

But, hey! It's a genre pic, so I don't hold formula against it. Actually, it can be really relaxing and comfortable to settle in and watch a movie that doesn't surprize you. If it amuses, that is. Sadly, this one does the opposite - it aggravates, annoys and angers. (Attractive and alluring alliteration, that.)

First, the locals do have that external "we're so simple and friendly, dontcha know?" feel that so many of these films have, but this appearance is completely belied by the constant cold nastiness they show towards Zellweger's character. I mean, I understand that being a corporate suit in hard economic times comes with a "kick me" sign, but these people are horrid. Over and over again. And it makes little to no sense to have a factory full of people who are supposed to be worried about losing their jobs be completely insubordinate and unwilling to work. This movie, whether it intends it or not, is one long explanation of why American factories are being shut down in favour of workers less filled with a feeling of entitlement in other places. Places where people might actually want to work. (Even I got that message from this film, and I am pro-union!)

Second, there is no chemistry, whatsoever. Not just between the heavily botoxed Zellweger (seriously - NO expression, ever) and Harry Ratface Jr, but in general. Nothing has any charm. Nothing is likable. There is no magic, or even anything approximating magic. Just a bunch of actors who look miserable, pissed off and wishing to be elsewhere. Sort of like the audience.

Not even J.K. Simmons was enjoyable, and I usually adore him - especially as middle class working guy smart asses, which he normally plays perfectly. I think he is one of the greatest character actors of our times, in fact. In this, he does give a twinge of effort, and does manage to produce the only bearable moments in the film, but even his obvious screen charisma is not enough to make this film worth the retinal power.

Finally, the lighting. Oh holy hell, the lighting. Now, I know Renee is no spring chicken any more, and her skelator incarnation doesn't really compete with her winsome cuteness in Bridget Jones, in my opinion, but she is hardly ugly. In New in Town, though, she would have to work hard to come up to the beauty level of sea hag. Between her lifeless, stringy hair and her pitted, lackluster skin, she should sue the makeup, hair and lighting departments on this film. And toss in the costuming department for making her reminiscent of Cruella deVil, only in search of simple rural souls instead of puppies. She looked and acted like a dissatisfied marm. Even when they had the obligatory "casual letting the icy guard down for the male lead for some chit chat on the sofa" scene, she had all the appeal of a Socialist charwoman. What on earth did she do to the DP to make them treat her this way?

Of course, she has no one to blame but herself for the bad botox.

But Zellweger's attractiveness (or lack thereof) is not the only lighting sin. Really, the whole movie has this thick, unappealing pea soup look to it that really doesn't scream "romcom magic." (Though, I guess it does capture the spirit of industrial drudgery.) Just a bit of care in the film craft could have gone a long way to make this less offensive to the human spirit. Dismal is the only word for the whole bloody mess.

Now, I have seen reviewers blame all this on having a foreign director who perhaps didn't understand how American romantic comedy is expected to look. That might be the case, I don't know. But I do know if you have a formula film, you at least have to present it well. This film failed on all scores.

So, why did I watch it twice? The first time I saw it, I had purchased it extremely cheap, previously viewed (note I'm not saying "previously enjoyed"), as I thought it was a harmless enough thing to take up an evening. The second time, I watched it because I had trouble believing it really was as bad as I remembered it being. Indeed, it may have been worse.

I am writing this now to save you the trouble of even seeing it once. Don't bother. If you wish to see a film in the classic subgenre of city slicker coming to a small town to save a small factory full of quirky characters, rent the highly (highly!) superior, Kinky Boots - so superior, I cringe even to mention it in the same post as this piece of dung. Another that comes to mind is the likable Spotswood (aka The Efficiency Expert in American release). Or the memorable and bold 1996 flick Brassed Off! These are all fine films that show how small communities can pull together to control their destiny in the face of corporate anonymity, and, in the process, transform the individual. And all three have some enjoyable romantic elements.

New in Town seems to want to focus more on the romance than the industrial aspect, which would be fine if the romance actually worked. In the end, it failed at both.

Don't waste your time.

Broken Make This Bed

OK, my frigging bed broke.

Luckily, my dad taught me how to make rope beds as a kid, so I was able to jerry rig something up using the frame.

But this is officially the worst week on record.

*facekettle*

Today, my two year old hit me in the face with a tea kettle.

I hear you laugh. Go ahead.

Perhaps you are thinking, "How much force could a two year old actually put behind a tea kettle to the face?"

I'm here to say, a surprizing amount.

So, now my lip is puffy. We're not going to the park tonight, mainly because I couldn't see blithely taking him off to the happy-fun-wow park after something like that. Does that mean he's been grounded? Sort of, I guess.

This officially caps one heck of a crappy week. You guys don't even know the half of it. I feel like I should enjoy a good Charlie Brown-esque "Good grief!" so I will.

It's a quiet night in for us.

A Bit More Wallow Music

"Unloved"

set back

Turns out that I am getting about $375 less this month than I expected. This is a problem. I might be able to squeak rent, but no bills and very little food will come our way until next month, at least... but then, next month, I will have to worry about October's rent.

And so the cycle continues.

sigh.

Writing

So, yes. I have sold my novel, and am expecting it released sometime in 2011. I am currently doing a final edit before giving it whichever editor has been assigned to me, and a friend is working on the cover. And I have the teaser campaign launched now. I am hoping to do another teaser around Xmas, hopefully including a semi-firm release date. The full campaign will go a month or two before release, with a sustainer campaign going after release and beyond. I'm rather excited about it.

I now have some future projects, as well. Another contemporary romance for Fall 2010, a paranormal/contemporary for Winter 2011, a novella in Spring 2011, and another contemporary for Summer 2011. I think then I might try a historical - perhaps something involving WWI, which is a time that fascinates me. My paranormal plot may also lend itself to a series - I haven't decided, yet. I'll be able to tell more once it is written.

Each of these projects are being written for specific series and publishers, but I can't guarantee any will sell. All I know is that it's good to work on something again. And it makes me a bit of scratch, all the better.

New Teaser Ad

Teaser Trailer for Strings Attached

***
ETA: Here's a slightly modified one, with the photographer's name given in full:

melting

Friday the 13th

Given my recent luck, Friday the 13th could go one of two ways: oddly great, or exceptionally bad - the kind of bad that become the stuff of legends.

Sarah McLachlan-Ordinary Miracle

A Little Note from the Tot:

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As you can see, he's really fond of the D key.

Whaddaya Got?

Got an email from the grad people today telling me that I have been cleared to graduate my program, so they are confused on why I have not applied to graduate, supplying me with a helpful link to do so online.

I calmly emailed them back saying that I still owed the university money, so I could not apply to graduate. I think they were a little taken aback at my apparent willingness to toss the whole degree (which is now finished) due to a relatively small balance on my account.

I informed them that if I could pay it in time to graduate in October, I would, but if not, maybe for next June's convocation, if I can. If not then, oh well. (I didn't add that last part, but I think it was implied.)

Now I am sure some of them are questioning the soundness of my wits, but, frankly, I could care less about some worthless piece of paper that will never net me a job. I certainly don't care enough about it to go without groceries, so tough titty, folks.

I know I completed the PhD. That's enough for me. Since I will just have to take it off my CV to get customer service work, I fail to see the value of the actual scroll.

So, whatever. If they care so much about convocating me, they can waive the fees.

I am so very fucked. All this summer, I have been trying to survive until summer was over, in the hopes that I would have work in the fall. Now, to find out the finish line has been whipped away and moved four months back... How the hell am I supposed to survive?

I've lived on a hope and a prayer for months now, not having had a permanent job since December 2009 (!), and now it turns out finishing the degree was for nothing. I'm no better off, except now I am set adrift and left for dead.

Drowning, here. I'm drowning.

Disappointing

So, I didn't get my last hope for the fall term, so no teaching work for me until January 2011... I am kind of unclear about what on earth I am going to do to keep afloat until then, as childcare, employment, etc, etc, etc, are all up in the air right now.

I have half a mind to knock that stupid, worthless PhD off my resume, find some regular, real job and tell the dept to find another stooge for their pitiful winter term charity job. It would be worth it to cut all ties to that place and to have at least a shot at stability for the next year or two.

PhDs in the humanities are not worth it, folks. That's the moral of this story.