zonkered.net

Dear Gap,

The shirt I bought from you on Friday looks like a 1994-era plaid shirt was attacked by a 1970-era tuxedo shirt, and somehow I love it. In the future, however, would it be possible to cut your clothes for women who actually have breasts? Showing my bra off to everyone on 3rd Avenue at 12:30pm wasn’t really on my agenda today.

No love,

Amanda

I’m moving in two weeks. I haven’t started packing. I bought fifteen boxes today. This was obviously the optimal time to purchase My So-Called Life on dvd. Or possibly not.

But this was the first show I obsessed over, years before Alias and Chuck and…well, really, that’s about it. I had to watch it on the basement tv because as usual, my parents would much rather watch the umpteenth episode of Law & Order than Angela Chase’s angst. But I was 14 in 1994, and I was living Angela Chase’s life in my head, except I couldn’t get away with dying my hair red, and I was nowhere near as gorgeous as Claire Danes. And Angela had a few more friends. But otherwise? It could have been me.

Anyway, I rewatched the pilot tonight, and I was struck with two things.

• Jordan Catalano is extremely cute, and I can see why I wove my escapist fantasy life around him in 1994. In reality, though? I would have had to brain him with something. The boy is the most dimwitted stoner I’ve ever seen on screen. And I’ve SEEN Dazed and Confused.
• Angela Chase’s mother is my mother. She says the exact same thing to Angela that my mother said to me when I dyed my hair red (“Well, we’ll always be able to find you in a crowd” in that special resigned why-did-you-do-this tone of voice).

Will definitely be watching more before the movies have to be packed away. It still holds up and is still great, even if I’m ten years removed from the angstfest that was high school.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.  “Pioneers in spirit, they dress the part, strolling in prairie skirts and toting their infants in slings. Others tend bar at the local saloons wearing jeans and bright kerchiefs.”  It’s BROOKLYN, not the Oregon Trail.

My tolerance level for ironic hipsters continues to sink.

So after work yesterday I walked to the closest B&N and got the very last copy of Acheron on the shelves in the store (mind you, there were probably additional copies in the back).  This is a romance novel the size of a dictionary, people, and I finished in almost one sitting – I had to walk home, and it’s easier to do that in one piece if you don’t have your nose buried in a book.

I had trepiditions about this one.  I love the Dark-Hunter series to little bits and pieces, and Acheron is one of my favorite characters, so  I was worried the book wouldn’t equal the hype.  Thankfully, I was wrong.  I liked the love interest, Tory, and Ash was amusingly awkward but without losing the Ash coolness that’s characterizes him throughout the rest of the series.  Some thoughts in numerical list form, because I’m way too lazy to write full paragraphs here:

1. Nick continues to make epically idiotic decisions.  EPICALLY.
2. I was amused to see that one of my personal predictions, that Styxx would impersonate Ash to save the girl, actually did come true, and in almost exactly the situation I envisioned.
3.  On that note, I really want a Styxx story.  He’s a classic irredeemable character who has been redeemed, and I love stories with heroes like that.
4. First read through I was concerned that Artemis was being overly demonized, but upon thinking about it…no.  It was about right.  I have some sympathy for her, because I think she is lonely, but she’s also innately selfish to a degree that would be psychotic in a human character, and she’s done way too much to Ash to be forgiven.
5. One of the things I was worried about was the tease we got in Devil May Cry – that Ash’s girl would hate him.  But I don’t think Tory did for long, and honestly? It was understandable.
6. I think I’ll find I’ll reread this one a lot, but mostly the second half.  The first half, about Ash’s mortal life is important to fully understand his issues – his major, major issues – but it’s painful enough that it’s difficult to read.  Especially when, if you’re like me, and you’re reading on the public transit system and tear up at the drop of the hat.

In any case, already rereading a day later and thoroughly enjoying it again.  Stryker’s book is next, in time for Christmas, and I can’t wait.