Never's Remedy

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Around 200. Give or take a few. The borders have changed a bit since I was in middle school Geography. ^_^

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Hot pie, ice cream, and sex.

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While with lots of time and thought I might be able to make a comprehensive list, perhaps even enough for a couple of mix CDs, the first that came to mind: Tori Amos covering "Angie" by the Rolling Stones.

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Dying. Or more specifically, being murdered by my jealous husband.

My earliest memory this life was feeding the ducks at Haller Lake when I was 8 months old.

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I don't expect much from these films, I read the books, and they were brain bubblegum, fun for a few minutes, but left me hungry for something real. But I laughed so hard when my daughter, girlfriend, and I went to see New Moon, and they chose to end it on a gasp. *facepalm*

As thelibraryninja said, SM wrote two decent characters, and then did nothing with them. If I thought she could do something good with them, I'd like to see an Alice/Jasper spin-off, but she clearly just used them for her own Mary Sue ends.

I use the Twilight books as a standard by which to judge my own writing. I often ask myself, "Am I committing the same atrocious sins of writing she did? Can they be reasonably explained or forgiven?"

Example, I check in on the romantic coupling of one pair in particular and make certain there's a reason for them to like one another, that they've proven that there is something of their characters to make them worthwhile in a relationship. Sometimes I bug my co-author and ask, "But why does he love her?" (Or she him?)

I suppose for SM, she just assumed we would all like the whiny, deceitful, anti-social narcissist as much as her stalker did.

Still, reading the books was such a reminder of my teenage energy (there was inspiration!) that it prompted me to really dedicate myself to my own writing, and hopefully provide readers with something more fulfilling than bubblegum.

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I can't even think about hosting my own radio show without automatically thinking of Pump up the Volume, a film about challenging the FCC's rules against free speech--about reclaiming the airwaves.

I doubt if I were to run a radio station of my own that I'd up really challenging anyone. Though much of the music I enjoy these days is not mainstream, I'm far from the in-crowd that's heading to small dives to listen to the latest sound (I have that whole kid factor to consider). Whatever I played though, any DJs would be speaking out against the insanity in the world. Left wing. Liberal. Suversive. Call it what you will, but I won't have any cowards on my staff staying safe in the conservative middle.

As for television ... Now there's a medium! Do you really want me to have that kind of power? Perhaps it's in the visual stories that I could better express myself. Radio doesn't hold the same hold on the masses the way the big glowing box does.

You know, I think it's best to end speculation right here. Frodo, don't hand me that ring! I'm starting to get a little fey in thinking about what a person with enough money, influence, and ovaries can do with access to creating television shows to change the minds of a nation--or a world.

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Last Christmas morning we awoke to find our power out, and we'd already been suffering through Snowpocalypse 2008. Our home was surrounded by two feet of snow, and our fridge and freezer, filled with the goodies I intended to make for our meals that day were threatened. We opened presents in the gray light of morning, each of us bundled and wrapped in warm clothing and blankets. My daughter wore her hooded vest over her bathrope as she tore apart the paper.

My partner and I piled our food in a box, wrapped in plastic, and placed it outside in the snow. I can't recall what we ate for breakfast, but it wasn't the long-awaited bagels, lox, and schmear, which was traiditional in my mother's home. We built up a fire in the brick oven, and gathered around my daughter's Hello Kitty table on a blanket. I tried to keep them entertained by singing and playing games. Since we couldn't rely on the brick oven to cook the duck and accoutrements (at least I had no experience doing so), we made nachos. They were the messiest, cheesiest nachos we'd ever made in that house, and our hands were sticky afterwards.

Throughout the afternoon and evening (since it was exceptionally dark that day), our house was filled with Shabbat candles that flickered around us and cast long shadows overhead. Just as we were getting restless, and I had suggested another game, that they'd agreed on, the lights came back on and suddenly they didn't want to sit together chatting or playing simple games. They went immediately to hook up the new Wii, and I was left sitting alone on the blanket. Neither of them really got into the time together, neither of them sang with me or showed enthusiasm, and it just felt like a big disappointment. I know there are families who do well when the lights go out; they gather together and find ways to entertain each other, but neither my partner nor my daughter could enjoy themselves without being hooked in. If it weren't for the cold seeping into our bodies, and the stiffness at sitting in a small corner of the house huddled by the oven, I might have pulled the plug for a week to get them to try to enjoy the chance to be close and live simply.

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Does Doctor Who count as an investigator? 'Cause really, who else would I want to help me? *purrs*

If Doctor Who is unavailable, I think I'd call Bigby Wolf from Bill Willingham's Fables. I'd just have to pray he'd take my case despite being a mundane and not a fable. If he agrees to help me, he can intimidate anyone trying to frame me just by cornering him, and if his big bad glare doesn't work, he could always try the ol' huff-and-puff. I think Ana would agree.

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In no particular order:

1. Getting up the courage to go back to college (and being accepted).
2. Making new friends.
3. Learning to knit.
4. Finding new ways to talk to my daughter.
5. My magical visit with Mom & Steph.
6. Watching my daughter start to figure things out.
7. Seeing my goddaughter blossom into her own.
8. Knowing my gira found a place to be happy.
9. Being with Craig.
10. 4.0 in ANTH 101, 3.5 in Linguistics!

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Oral sex day! Oh wait, I think that one already exists. Cunnilingus day? It's probably out there as well.

How about the holiday we celebrate every year for the day in U.S. history when the people rose up and demanded and received services that are tantamount to basic human rights: universal health care, living wages, reasonable work hours and six weeks paid vacation (plus paid maternity leave and paid sick leave), free university, and clean housing for all its citizens. Oh, and let's not forget: high quality early education teachers and day cares, and adequate care and respect for our elderly.

We'll call it "About Fucking Time" Day. We can celebrate it every first Tuesday in November as we go to the polls to ensure our freedoms and basic human needs are met each and every day for ourselves and our children.

This will--as you must know--be the day that we give the boot to the corporate lobbyists and radical right nutjobs that seem to think private companies should be bailed out by tax payers' money, women should be denied the right to choose what they do with their bodies and their lives, America is an empire and has the right to invade other countries for their resources, and freedom is a privilege, not a right.

Yeah. Anytime now. I'm waiting. *taps foot* I've got my party hat on and my Guy Fawkes mask at the ready.