Sunday, January 28, 2007
I ate vegan chicken today. I feel healthier, and prettier. Like little bunnies are hopping around my feet. Like baby chicks peck out my name in the ground as I walk...with flowy script and hearts. Bluebirds fly about my head like Cinderella.
Maybe Cinderella was Vegan. Hmm…
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
The book "Mr Darcy takes a Wife" is billed as a continuation of "Pride and Prejudice". So having enjoyed P&P immensely, I ordered this faux-Austen off Amazon sight-unseen. I knew something was...ahem...up, when I read the liner note.
"Miss Austen never married, it presumed her own life passed with only the barest hint of romance. Hence, one must presume she went to her great reward virgo intactus. As befitting a maiden's sensibilities, her novels all end with the wedding ceremony. What throbs fast and full, what the blood rushes through, is denied her unforgettable characters and, therefore, us. Dash it all!
We endeavour to right this wrong by completing at least one of her stories, beginning whence hers leaves off. Our lovers have wed. But the throbbing that we first encounter is not the cry of the passionate heart. Another part of her anatomy is grieving Elizabeth Bennet Darcy."
It was about this point when I realized I had unwittingly purchased an erotic novel. That's right ladies and gents, I have discovered the amazing duplicitous form of novel known as 'Jane Austen sex-novel rip-off.'
I am at once repulsed and enthralled. Pause for a moment for my sense of propriety to be shocked and vomit, while my sensationalist nature still holds onto the book in dear promise.
I believe these are commonly known as 'romance novels' but when pressed, there's not much 'romance' in them. Mostly vast quantities of longing, followed by vaguely hidden sex. Hey! Much like life. I crack myself up.
Since when did the prim and proper ladies and gents of Longbourn turn into Sandy and Danny from Grease? Are we all, deep down, wanting summer lovin? Can I expect a very huffy and stiff version of 'You're the one that I want' from pompadour wearing Fitzwilliam Darcy?
"Met a girl cra-zeh for meeeeeee!!"
Although, when you come to think about it, the hidden feelings of Darcy and Elizabeth DO equate to the summer romance of Sandy and Danny...when society butts in it's ugly head, and separates their love. Jane as Frenchy...and Lady Catherine is Rizzo. I can totally see this. Where's a studio executive when you need them?
"Tell me more tell me more, like does he have a carriage?"
So...despite the ahem...graphic...nature of this book, it's still on my bedside table. I will continue to struggle through it for the sake of Jane Austen, the Sandy virgin of period England.
After all, it IS Darcy and Elizabeth. They do speak in period English. They ARE in period dress.
At least some of the time.
"Ah, oh, those su-huh-mer niiiihights! Tell me more tell me more tell me moohohoooore!!!"
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Last night, I went out to a Mexican Bar way the hell out in Chatsworth with my Best Friend to hang with some people that I hadn't seen in a while. And despite being horridly sick, sounding like kermit the frog, and feeling like crap...I went. Because I told a Former Friend friend I would - and FF is someone who I'd like to be friends with - but we're on the 'friends/notfriends' borderline quite a lot, and I feel like I need to make the effort for him.
The ironic portion of the evening comes from the fact that despite the plethora of men present, and the fact that I got felt up twice, and was molested and offended more than twice...I gave my number to a girl.
Meeting people in bars is actually quite hard for me. I'm VERY shy, anti-social, and hate when people are drunk. You see my problem.
Therefore ending up chatting with a fellow female writer, who has some amazing stories, and kept telling me I was inspiring her to write - was a nice diversion. Her Mr. Co-worker was hot as well, so it never hurts to have some eye candy behind someone you're talking to to keep the interest going.
At one point I set out looking for FF, with attempts to cuddle up and profess my undying friendship, and found him hitting on cute girl 1, then cute girl 2. Not wanting to mess up his shot for the evening, I went back to Writer Girl and kept talking, eventually exchanging numbers and emails. I never get asked for my phone number, so to give it freely to a girl was a new experience. I'm sure she knows I'm straight. Right? Hmmm...now I'm worried.
The evening droned on, eventually bringing FF back to the group, but still without much talking to me, or friendship-planning time. I got molested some more, and got 2 "I love you"s out of a drunk guy I hardly know, and is married with kids.
12:00 was time to go, so I waited for FF to see if he was good to drive, and after an evening of mostly ignoring me...he gave me a gigantic hug and said "I Love you."
After giving a girl my number, and also being my 3rd drunk "I love you" of the evening...it was anti-climactic...but nice nonetheless. I guess we are friends after all.
And in case you're wondering, I did say "I love you too."