A brief weekend update to what I alluded to on my last entry, this time with purpose!
About a month ago, Jennie mentioned her company was doing an upcoming anthology on True Blood. And people, you KNOW how I feel about True Blood, considering it’s the only show I’ve seen in its entirety more than twice since the Golden Girls. Ergo, and perhaps totally unsurprisingly, she suggested I submit a topic to the editor, and I did, and surprisingly, they accepted it.
The first time my words will be in something bound and it’s about … vampires and sex. Fitting! Anyway, I’m obviously very excited and can now totally come out with it (and out with Jennie, now that she’s outed herself). We’re all out! And proud! Or something.
The point of this is that the anthology is announced (it’s being released in June, with at least two or three updates on the essay from me throughout the third season), and you can go vote on the cover.
If you’re wondering, by the way, if my essay is on the sexy beast that is Eric and why/how/whatthefuck Alexander Skarsgard was thinking with those purported silicone back implants, you’re wrong. My essay is about Bill. BILL! I know! I didn’t see that one coming either, but it seems I have STRONG FEELINGS on what Alan Ball and Stephen Moyer are doing to Bill, and by association, Sookie, and folks, it’s not good. (SOOKEH! BEEEEL!)
Separately, Smart Pop Books are fantastic, you guys, and I’m not just saying that. I’ve contributed to a lot of things here and there and just taken the money and ran without making a thing of it, because the product (other than my brilliant contribution, of course), has sucked. These, however? Are beyond awesome. If you’re a fan of Television Without Pity or any of the recapping sites, you’ll love these. They have all the wit and smarts, plus deeper analysis. I’m not sure what they were thinking when they agreed to let me write for them. My personal favorite, if you were wondering, is the Charmed one (oh a pun!), which makes the series seem smart and a total win for feminism, meaning I no longer beat myself up for all those hours I spent parked in front of TNT while pregnant. Charmed! Who knew? And Lost! The Lost one is great, too. I’m sure the rest of them are ALSO spectacular, but a) I haven’t gotten to read them all yet; and b) I’m not a fan of all the shows/products they cover, so some of them won’t mean that much to me yet.
I’m not kidding. There is an entire brilliant essay on why the producers of Charmed were BALLS OUT to kill off Prue and I ATE IT UP, because it was SO TRUE and suddenly I didn’t feel so cheated by the way they just left us all dangling there with the whole Shax Did-He-Or-Didn’t-He thing.
Anyway. That’s the scoop. I’m writing and posting now in a separate post not to make a big thing of it intentionally, but because the poll is only up for the weekend, and I want to know what you think. I have an opinion of course, but I’ll save it for the very end.
Happy weekend!
January 29th, 2010
I went to Costco today with Julie, and frankly, either one of those things on their own (a visit to Costco OR a visit with Julie) is swoon-worthy and enough entertainment for an entire week, but in combination, hoo boy, it was practically the perfect storm of wonder and delight. Witty banter! Towering 80-packs of K-cups! Giant packages of pregnancy tests placed strategically next to the condoms! A remarkably funny woman to give me a tour! A four-pound container of brownies that my husband has been complaining about all night! (“I wanted ONE brownie, Jonna, not NINETY.”)
See? Perfection. Delight! A BLT for lunch marred only by a briefly choking infant! And then I got in the car, where all hell proceeded to break loose, for it started snowing rather, uh, heavily, shall we say, and just as suddenly, to the point where I couldn’t see the road and my eyes were going all buggy from trying to focus on anything but the snowflakes hurtling toward the windshield. In fact, my eyes are quite literally crossing at the memory, and my heart rate has now elevated to 30-Day Shred levels (speaking of, my right knee is about to stage a coup). I pulled my trembling self to a gas station, where I had a serious conversation with Adam about whether I should stay in the Ho-Hum Motel (note: actual name) until the following day, because I was certain that death! destruction! torment! were all that lay ahead, and we’d NEVER MAKE IT HOME.
And apparently I was RIGHT, for before I knew what was happening, traffic (three cars, whatever) came to a total standstill amid the terrifying whiteout (the LAST THING YOU WANT, as no one can see your stopped car), because there were at LEAST seven cars all skidding off the road, and the next thing I knew there were sirens! stretchers! People ON the stretchers! Crunched cars! Three ambulances! Two fire trucks! POLICE.
(None of the cars were ours. Beebs and I were fine, although one of us was more fine than the other, perhaps because she slept through it.)
And then: sunshine. No snow. Smooth sailing. Whatthefuck. I mean, thank GAWD I didn’t stay in the Ho-Hum, because … HO HUM, you know what I’m saying?
(That line was genius, that. It’s a real shocker that I didn’t make it on Jeopardy, isn’t it?)
Occasionally, like, say, driving in a blinding snow squall, I look back on our years in Florida with a warm, golden affection, and imagine raising Sam near the Gulf of Mexico in a land where it never snows and sixty degrees is considered “cold.” The fantasy is fun for a few minutes, until I am slapped back to the reality that while yes, there is warm sunshine, there are also torrential downpours and lightning close enough to singe your face off. And the grass! Sam would never be able to sit in the grass, because it’s hard as a pile of razor-laden straw AND it is fraught with fire ants that would gladly eat your face off faster than a Fatburger.
And the ocean is great, right? Great, yes, great. It is also teeming with sharks — real ones — and wearing silver is inadvisable during the warmer months, lest you be mistaken for a mackerel. It is also true that shuffling your feet is a necessity from May through October because, oh ho ho HO! it’s stingray season, oh happy day! And what Floridian fantasy is complete without elderly drivers being wheeled away on gurneys as they got in yet another traffic accident at a six-way stop as you sit in traffic, your face melting directly into the pavement? And GAWD, we haven’t even talked about the threat of hurricanes, which is a constant source of anxiety throughout the season, because even if you aren’t hit with one, the weathermen are perpetually full of doomsday predictions about whatever clouds are swirling in the Caribbean on any given day.
Yes, I will take snow squalls and warm fireplaces, thank you very much. Frankly, if not for the driving, I am a winter person. I love winter, so long as I’m properly dressed for it, and have no problem throwing Sam in her snowsuit, packing her into the Ergo, and heading out for a tour of downtown and some errands, no matter how cold it is. Mmmm, cold weather. Snuggly!
To close the loop on the Costco excitement, I walked out with 168 Kirkland diapers, and have high hopes, despite their lack of whatever that little comfort flex thing was on the side of the Pampers that made them seem … comfortable and flexible. (See? Am marketer’s wet dream!)
And in housekeeping news, I will likely be a little on the sparse side next week and the week after, as I finish several LOOOOOOMING deadlines on projects that are due at or near the middle of February. Most of them are not thrilling at all, but one is VERY THRILLING, at least to me, and involves something that people! like you! and my parents! can buy! in a place called a BOOKSTORE! And you can read all about it HERE.
Have a wonderful, fabulous weekend.
*Regina Spektor
January 29th, 2010
