UPDATE - The Summer of Finishing Unfinished Business: Part TV

My resolution to finish these screwy series has been going "not so good" (as said exactly like Teen Girl Squad) since we last spoke, dear bloggity blog.

• Dawson's Creek - Season 1: untouched since.
• Gilmore Girls - Season 7: untouched since.
• Veronica Mars - Season 1: two episodes since. Actually, it kind of became intriguing again. And I totes solved a mystery before 'the reveal'! Why I'm so excited, I don't really know.
• Gossip Girl - Season 2: two episodes since. I stopped at the sixth, content in the knowledge that Serena thinks my ex husband is "a total babe". Oh S, what will Lonely Boy say? I Watch Too Much TV: Wallace Shawn, aka Jenny's "monsieur" movie head honcho on The L Word, will pop up as Cyrus Rose, Blair's to-be stepfather and father of Serena's current squeeze, Aaron Rose, if I keep watching. But of course, I'll always know him as Clueless' Mr Hall, he who gave Cher a C in debate, because "he's a miserable little man who wants to make everyone else miserable too" (as said exactly in the staccato delivery of Dionne).
• ER - Season 12: finished. As I said it would be. Waiting impatiently for faster internet so that I may continue watching this 15th and final season. Roomies, I wait for you with bated breath and hopeful heart...
• Party of Five - Season 1: untouched since.
• The L Word - Season 5: finished. Halfway through, it got good...I think? No, it did, because Molly Kroll came along and she is all lesbianawkward and supercute and totespretty! And I continue to hate Shane's overall appearance, but never mind that now. I really wish Kit shot Dawn Denbo and her lover Cindy. I don't care that lover Cindy defected to our girls at the end, the fact that she was Denbo's lover Cindy should be reason enough for her death. And I almost forgot that Helena even existed! Do we ever find out what becomes of Dusty? Does Helena never return to her and we just assume that Dusty will rot out there somewhere? Why did I hate Jodi throughout her entire two-season run and then the minute she and Bette are over, at The Exhibition of Bette no less (called 'Core' or something equally wanky?), I suddenly find her and her straightened hair hot? Is Jodi gone for good? When did Shane learn to sign?! Why is Alice becoming so annoying to me? Why am I finding myself thinking Tina is pretty hot? Is Adele actually psychotic or did she just want to direct the movie? Why do I kind of love Jenny in some ways? So many questions. Ilene, answer meeeeee!! I Watch Too Much TV: PsychoAdele is also known to me on ER as Ray's Distraction slash Neela's Med Student slash Roomies Plot Wedge, Katey. And I used to think she was so pretty! But as I've discovered here, her face and possibly her entire head is too big for her body. And both Katey and Adele are such bitches FYI.
• My So-Called Life - Season 1: untouched since.

In the time in-between, I've managed to secure three more series, much to my chagrin (and that, Stephenie WhySoFail Meyer, is how you use the word 'chagrin': sparingly, not to mention in correct context).

• Charmed - Season 1: two episodes. It was cheeeap! And I mean that in all respects; the SFX, in particular, are laughably bad. It's better to watch it with the knowledge that Shannen Doherty is most likely a heinous bitch (with Alyssa Milano probably coming in second) and that eventually, these three sisters are going to be torn apart by backstage diva antics and Shannen will get fired/quit and Prue will die and oh noes! What of the Power of Three? That was the entire basis of this series! Oh, how convenient- we had a half-sister in Rose McGowan that we never knew about until now. Power of Three restored! And I haven't even gotten to the part where Drew Fuller, as Holly Marie Comb's not-yet-born second son, travels from the future to visit his parents and aunts so that he, as an adult, can a) prevent his older brother, as a baby, from becoming evil, and b) ensure his own conception. And in trying to save his baby older brother, he gets stabbed by Gideon! And dies as his father bad-acts and bad-weeps! But on the same day is re-born as that conceived baby! It's so awesomely bad, it almost teeters on good-bad. Alas, not quite.
• The Tudors - Season 1: six episodes. I would've continued, but this is all I was given. I didn't expect to have much interest, as I'm not a fan of period dramas and the like, but I was pleasantly surprised. I really don't know how historically accurate it all is, but there is a lot of sex. Perhaps they had nothing better to do with their time? Lots of boobage. Lots of OTTness from Jonathan Rhys-Meyers (who is really not King material). Lots of meetings with important whatsits. Not enough Charles Brandon. Or Catherine of Aragon, whose portrayer, Maria Doyle Kennedy, I have a mature-woman crush on. I luuurve her and her fake Spanish accent. And I haaate Anne Boleyn mainly because of her usurping of Queen Catherine, but also because Natalie Dormer distracts me from the role with her slightly, dare I say, 'special' looks. And there's gross Margaret who smothered her husband, the King of Portugal, to death with a pillow and promptly got right back into bed with Brandon and all that I see whenever she's on-screen are her wrinkles, her bones and her perma-tan. I had no idea they had tanning beds back then! Then there's James Frain and I can't remember who he plays but he's kind of hot for an old guy. Oh! And the gay relationship between the guy who played Sean's older brother in Degrassi (which means he's Canadian- squee!) and the povo music boy, and disturbingly, they look like brothers. There is much to enjoy here, my friends. I eagerly await the next half of the season, whenever my distributor gets back into contact.
• Full House - Season 1: um...somewhere between five and seven episodes? Borrowed from the cousins next door because I was obviously on drugs. I actually used to love watching this in the late 80s and early 90s. I used to love Stephanie, the middle child. Who would've guessed that she'd grow up to be a meth addict whose policeman husband ditched because of her habit, and then would follow that up with becoming preggers by some guy she'd known a couple of months and would marry soon after only to divorce some months after that? And what's more, Uncle Joey was maybe, apparently, quite possibly, all sorts of wrong, because how else do you explain the fact that Dave Coulier dated Alanis Morisette while she was 14 and he was 20something? That song, You Oughta Know? Is about him, post-breakup. And he was working with those kids on the show all that time! The number of times he was holding one of the Olsen twins...oh, scandalous!

Why I Hate Love Hate RPattz

I have inherent hate for Robert Pattinson and it has pretty much existed since I first saw a picture, during Goblet of Fire filming, of the purported Cedric Diggory. I'm not one of those diehard Potter fans- if I'm going to be petitioning for anything, it's going to be for a Gimpy Roomies' Baby (Come on! Mindi's preggers already! They wouldn't even need a prosthetic belly!)

However, I do tend to get a little miffed by overlooked physical details because my life is all about those little details that clutter up my head and don't leave room for anything else (like, say...study?) If the author is going to go on and on and on about Harry having his mother's green eyes, I think the actor playing Harry should be similarly green-eyed in the films. That Radcliffe twerp is ridiculously overpaid as it is, and someone somewhere can't stab two fuckin' contacts over his orbs?! "Am I reaching for the stars here? No." (as said exactly like Meryl Streep).

Cedric Diggory, from memory, is meant to be good-looking. You know, facially. And I am aware that this is plain and simple personal opinion here but Robert Pattinson's face? Is kind of fug. Actually, a little more than kind of: he's all sorts of fug. And I keep coming across all these random 'news' items about his gross hair and poor hygiene and just general greasy gross fugness and it's really not helping his case. Bottom line: he is not good-looking. Not enough to be Cedric in any case. So what did some of those hardcore Potter manics do? Petition, of course, to be rid of RPattz and more importantly, to secure a certain Henry Cavill for the role instead. Again, personal opinion and biased at that, because Henry is my husband #3 (I can't remember if I divorced him before I married Kate Moennig. I think I'm polygamous, y'all! And completely in need of psych help!), but why not choose a guy who's actually good-looking for the role of a good-looking guy? Am I all alone in my bewilderment here?

It could've been so beautiful, Cedric. My third (ex?) husband could've done you justice.

Needless to say, Mr That Girl didn't get the role. But whatever, right? Cedric dies anyway! RPattz could have his 15 minutes of fame and be done with it and the fug would disappear. Yeah? Yeah?! Not so. Circa mid-2006, I chose to read a novel entitled Twilight based purely on the fact that the author, Stephenie Meyer (she of the whysofail?), selected Henry as the actor she felt could embody the male protagonist, Edward Cullen. Who happens to be a vampire. A vegetarian vampire. A 100something-year-old vegetarian vampire with old-fashioned sensibilities and, most importantly, the face of a god slash angel slash model slash everythingelseMeyerdeemstobeimpossiblybeautiful. That is to say, he is good-looking. As in, she (and that absolute twit of a main character, Bella) won't let you forget his AMAZINGBEAUTYOMIGAH*DIES*

So, time went by and the novel got optioned by film studios and whatnot and eventually, the lead female role (ie. TwitBella) was announced to have been won by a certain Kristen Stewart (who I may or may not have ditched Wife Kate for. I really can't remember. So many weddings, so little time). I love me some Kristen, she of the hott legs and husky voice, but that is a little besides the point. The big, gigantic, motherfuckin' point ("on this motherfuckin' plane!" as said exactly like Samuel L. Jackson, because when else am I going to be able to use that line?) here is that when the role of Edward was finally cast, despite author and fan support for Hubby Cavill, it ultimately went to that fugmo RPattz again. Now, I say once more that I am not like those obsessive freaks who dub themselves Twihards or whatever the fuck their moniker is, but it was a very bitter pill to swallow (and I am really not particularly good at swallowing pills in the first place, so as you can imagine, I was choking). Some who witnessed the moment I found out like to say that I exploded into a screaming fit, of rage blackout proportions (akin to those suffered exactly by Summer Roberts), but you really shouldn't believe everything people say.

"I could be here and now...I should be" (as sung exactly like Nick Drake).

But whatever, right? I mean, Edward is pretty much a controlling, obsessive, stalking, prude of a not!dead! boyfriend. I should be happy that Mr That Girl dodged that bullet, yeah? Yeah? Yeah...except for the part where Henry had also somehow managed to dodge bullets Superman, Batman and James Bond too, so this was yet another "You're not even a has-been. You're a never-was." moment (as said exactly like Coach Reilly). Then, there's the fact that RPattz shot to instant fame and fortune playing the roles of good-looking guys. Is it permanently Opposite Day now? Am I missing something? Is fugly really the new pretty? (Fug Girls, you are my heroes!)

And so lies the basis of my RPattz hatred:

1. he is fug and he keeps playing hott ("What's it doing?...You ruins it!" as said exactly like Andy Serkis)
2. he stole my (ex) husband's roles! ("...filthy little thieves!...They stole it from us!" as said exactly like Andy Serkis again. I flove Andy Serkis)
3. he got to mack on my would-be wife, Kristen, before I did ("My precious!")

However, on the other side of the love-hate spectrum, I have grudgingly found RPattz (while quite possibly perpetually drunk or high or both) to be entertaining. I think Hollywood has yet to find another actor who readily 'fesses up to not washing his hair to the point where built-up residue can be misconstrued as styling product. And then helpfully shakes some dandruff out to demonstrate the state of his not-so-luscious locks. Then talks about watching pornos. And having a Buddha inhabiting his head, giving him answers to the questions of life. Most importantly, he admits that he is not good-looking enough to play Cedric or Edward! I can't completely hate someone who agrees with me, can I?

Then, there's Art. Well, there's Art and Daniel Gale, and while Daniel was just as delightfully eccentric and dorky, we're going to focus on Art. Art fits RPattz to a T and if ever there was going to be a niche for him, it would be these kinds of characters: weird, loner, misfit, possibly functionally-retarded goofs.

Meet Art.

Note the 'tard giving Art's music the thumbs down.

See, RPattz-as-Art and I could get along; we both have an affinity for Canada.

Who doesn't love watching a film about random escalator-riding?

Note the spilt breakfast cereal. Incidentally, in this scene, he tells his mother he's trying to fix whatever is wrong with him.

'Nuff said.

How Art passes the time on the job. Frankly, I prefer Ben Willis' method of stripping female shoppers and drawing them in the nude (as seen exactly in Cashback), but to each his own.

Really? Am I alone in saying that I like films about the average loser's path to semi-self-actualisation, to the point where he can confide and bond with his mirror reflection? It's rather sweet: he's telling his image not to worry and that everyone will love them, despite the fact that he's a shit musician.

And when all else fails in Art's life, he climbs into bed with his parents...until they kick him out and his mother calls him boring and miserable and he runs outside and starts banging his head against objects. Honestly, RPattz should stick to these characters. He's actually good in these moulds and his non-looks are a non-issue. Win-win all 'round! End rant.

The Summer of Finishing Unfinished Business: Part Books

As you see, I'm resigned to never finishing that damn recap because I can't seem to make myself bothered enough, not even for me, so it must be official: I'm Dance-d out. I don't care so much at the moment because there are obviously more pressing matters at hand, such as the buttload of books I have rotting on my shelf that I'm supposed to be getting through this summer, or else all that money is wasted. Speaking as one soon to be out of employment (I quit! I quit! I actually did it, y'all!), the following list is sure to make me feel a little guilty, a little shameful and quite possibly, a little queasy at the thought of a) all those hours toiling away under the fluorescent and unforgiving lights, and b) how ridiculously simple it is to get me to buy something by saying it's on sale. Behold the numerous titles I have purchased in way too short an amount of time.


The Post-Semester 2 Exams Binge:

• The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold. Something about a daughter and a mother. And the daughter wants love/attention from the mother. So she kills her. Or something like that? Really, all I know is that I liked The Lovely Bones. This one was actually a smart buy. I was dilly-dallying about in A&R, quite intent on getting it along with a handful of others. In the end, I went with just the handful of others. The next day, I saw this at K-mart for practically half the A&R price. Sold! I was overly proud of myself for holding out, conveniently forgetting that shopping around for one title does not cancel the fact that I impulsively bought five others at crazy-arse jacked-up prices. Cracked the Spine? Pristine; pure; never touched.
• The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler. Um...I don't know? I've never even finished a Jane Austen in my reading life! I think Maggie Grace played the lesbian daughter, Allegra, in the film. And she's pretty! Cracked the Spine? Have read the first chapter. Or maybe two. I don't remember. I hate them all so far because they're so uninteresting. And there's random guy named Grigg. And a smelly dog.
• The Food of Love by Anthony Capella. It had a sticker boasting that it was signed by the author (and there are indeed blue ballpoint scribbles underneath Mr Capella's name inside!) so of course, how could I let that one slide? Anthony Capella might become a really world-renowned author someday! Furthermore, there are recs inside by Jamie Oliver and, wait for it, Hugh Laurie. Seriously. I don't know how many Hugh Laurie's there are in this world, noteworthy enough to have their literary recommendations printed in a novel, but seeing as they'll print Paris Hilton's recs, I'm going to have to assume that it's the awesomy Hugh 'House' Laurie who liked this book. As for the blurb, it pretty much tells you that it's going to be a modern, Italiano spin on Cyrano de Bergerac. With lots and lots of Italian food. Cracked the Spine? Current read. Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of food. Makes me hungry. Probably not the best idea to be reading it at bedtime.
• Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood. This was a whim buy. Something about bullying and how it haunts her to this day. I think it's one of those high school English texts? Cracked the Spine? Pristine.
• The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon. Over the years, a various number of people have recommended this title to me. My friend Cake promised me that I'd like it. So far, he's a liar. I can't get into it. Granted, I haven't really tried to get into it but I think maybe 'special' people (such as myself) can't really get into the heads of other 'special' people unless they're 'special' in exactly the same way. And I'm not especially autistic...I don't think. I have no empathy or curiousity to find out how or why the dog was forked. Cracked the Spine? First couple of pages. Up until he hits the police officer.
• Queen of Babble; Queen of Babble in the Big City; Queen of Babble gets Hitched by Meg Cabot. Big whim. But they're exactly what I knew they'd be, so I don't know...does that make them a worthy buy somehow? It's not like I bought Proust and got Dan Brown. I bought Meg Cabot and got Meg Cabot. No deception, no false hope, just plain old chick-lit with characters you want to smack. And seeing as there was only three books in the series, I thought I may as well...you know. Cracked the Spine? All finished. So shameful.

The Semester 2 Binge:

• On the Road by Jack Kerouac. It was cheap. And it's some American classic. And, there's this exchange-

MARISSA

Hey, like in On the Road? That's my favourite book.

SETH

(pouts)

Mine too.

Oh...classic OC. I used to enjoy you...Cracked the Spine? The first couple of pages. Something about some guy. And his wife? As observed by another guy? Maybe. I think they're white trash...possibly? Actually, I have no idea what the damn hell this is about.

• Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo. Apparently he's also the author of the acclaimed Underworld, not that I've read it or anything. Just an interesting tidbit. Or not so interesting. Whichever. Anyway, it was cheap...I think? Yeah, it totally was. It was part of some Borders discount store, a couple of doors down from the actual Borders, and I felt the ridiculous need to buy up there because of the fact that they were all on sale. Cracked the Spine? Pristine.
• Gucci Mamas by Cate Kendall; Alice in La La Land by Sophie Lee; Not Meeting Mr Right by Anita Heiss; The Shoe Queen by Anna Davis; Still Life with Husband by Lauren Fox. All part of a chick-lit boxset, that in turn was part of the Borders discount store sale whatever. Never mind the fact that I've no need of these titles, nor was I particularly interested in any of their repetitive plotlines ('Imsingleanddesperateandalsoveryveryverydesirablesowhydontmenwantmeeeeee?'). It was a boxset! In a nifty little box and everything! And cheap! Cheeeeeeeaaaaaappp! Cracked the Spine? Finished Gucci Mamas - stupid, asinine read. Started the other four in some way and I hate all the characters in each and every one of them! Gah, is it so hard to create a likeable female character?! They're all collecting dust somewhere on the shelf, probably doomed never to be opened and read again.

The Post-Semester 1 Exams Binge:

• Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire. OMG. OMFG! Oh-em-gee! I heart Elphaba!!!!1!! That is all. Cracked the Spine? And the cover, by accident. Actually, it's torn a teeny tiny bit. I've been reading it on and off since July. I can't take Elphie's tragic life and illicit heartbreak and eventual demise all at once. I read until I know something bad is going to happen to her (which is pretty much the running theme here) and then I stop. She's gone to visit her sister and father and there's not much left to go, so I know her death is looming. Sob!
• The Writing Class by Jincy Willett. Um, whim buy. Some writing class run by some woman, if memory serves me correctly, in which a whole host of characters (don't you love it when authors attempt to make people interesting by giving them some funny item of clothing and we're supposed to think that it makes them an interesting character?) attend and one of them is murdered and then the teacher has to turn detective and find out who committed the murder through their writing assignments because dun-dun-dun! One of her students is a killer! Solid premise, I guess, but the construction has yet to capture me. Cracked the Spine? I flipped to the end after two chapters to find out who the murderer is, not even thinking to myself, "Omigah! I totes knew it was that person!" because I wasn't even remotely invested in this book enough to care.
• Chasing Harry Winston by Lauren Weisberger. Well, really, because I'd read her other two and the running gimmick of having a different-coloured stiletto on her covers actually works on me. It's greeeeeen! And there's a diamond ring too! Pretty! Cracked the Spine? Finished. Not that great. Devil remains the best read.
• Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger. To complete my collection of stiletto covers of course! Cracked the Spine? Re-read it. Better than I remembered, but I remembered it was crap, so that's not saying much.
• Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs. There are these AWESOMY CUPCAKES on the cover, which danced a little icing jig and waved their silver sugar balls in the air like pompoms and basically forced me to buy the book. Who am I to deny hallucinatory baked goods come to life? Cracked the Spine? Finished. I didn't mind it. It was a solid read. Although, I'm a little perturbed by the May-December romance that featured. And for some weird, weird, fucked-up reason, the younger guy this older woman falls for always resembled RomanfromHomeandAway in my head. Not that I tried to picture them, you know, having sex or anything. But Roman always comes to mind when I think about this book. And I hate Roman. So weird!
• Secrets of My Hollywood Life by Jen Calonita. Whim buy. Total waste. Asinine teen book. Really, what was I on? Cracked the Spine? Finished, unfortunately for me. That's two hours of my life I'll never get back!

The Random A&R Sale Binge: There was a 3 for 2 sale on. Hence, the three titles.

• Entering Normal by Anne LeClaire. Cracked the Spine? Finished. Slightly asinine, slightly preachy, but bordering on average.
• The Goodbye Summer by Patricia Gaffney. Cracked the Spine? Read the first couple of chapters, hated the main character so fucking much. Plus, was skeeved out by the guy she likes because I think she said he had shoulder-length wispy hair or something and I kept imagining the creepy guy who takes the Glen Waverley line and gets on at Mount Waverley and he has this bald patch and then shoulder-length, wispy, pink hair that he randomly ties up and then unties over and over as he sits on the train. I also think of this guy when I picture Xeno Lovegood.
• Twilight Time by Emma Blair. Cracked the Spine? First two chapters I think and then I fell asleep. So boring. The fact that this book is not even on my shelf but still somewhere in the boxes I have yet to unpack from the move tells you all you need to know.

And then, as if that's not enough, there are books I've bought that I've never finished for whatever reason. I have no need for new books because I have too many piling up in the to-finish pile! It's INSANE!

The Unfinished Books Bought from Binges Long-Forgotten:

• Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.
• To Die For by Carol Lee.
• Fashionistas by Lynn Messina.
• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.
• The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien.
• Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert.
• Tess of the d'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy.

The Books I've Borrowed, Never Finished and Never Returned to Their Owners (technically, these don't count because I didn't spend money on them, but the fact remains that I can't use the excuse of "Imsoboredihavenothingtoread!" in order to excuse my excessive need to spendspendspend!):

• Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell.
• Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser.

Bottom line: I need help. Urgently.