May 15, 2003 Rambling

I'd like to thank reader Annie, who generously sent me Angels by Marian Keyes. I can't wait to read it! Annie rocks. Here are my thoughts on Marian Keyes: I really, really liked Rachel's Holiday, but my memory of it is hazy, as I read most of it in the middle of the night when I wasn't sleeping at all. I think I was in somewhat of a fugue state. I liked Watermelon less, but it had its redeeming moments, namely when I related a LOT to Claire when her husband first left her. I liked Last Chance Saloon not so much. I just didn't really care what happened to any of those characters, and the way they talked to each other sounded very unnatural and unreal to me. Much too clever and cutesy. And I wanted to beat Tara soundly about the head for being with a man who was such an asshole to her all the time. I just didn't get into it very much. I guess my main complaint about Watermelon (although it was much better than Last Chance Saloon) would be that for fucking once, I'd like to see a female character get dumped and get over it without the immediate arrival of a new prospect, because while that's entertaining and all sometimes, it's just not what happens for everyone, and I don't know that many women who can automatically start crushing on someone new while in the depths of despair. I don't know. I'd like to see a woman who becomes single and stays single for a little while and is okay. Someone write that book, please. As for the Dawson's Creek finale, I sobbed profusely. Blame it on the margaritas. It was terrible and overwrought and meta-statemented out the ass, and if I heard the word "soulmate" one more time, I might have stuck my head into the litter box. But I couldn't help it. And I swear to God, I could not decipher what Joey was saying when she was going on about how she loves Pacey but also loves Dawson but mostly loves herself. I really, truly thought she was doing the dreaded Kelly Taylor "I CHOOSE ME!" move and I was getting irate. Whatever. I just wanted to make out with Joshua Jackson the whole time, and I think the reason I was crying is although I don't care if I ever again lay eyes on Joey's two-toned hair and low-rise jeans and Dawson's giant head, I will miss Pacey Witter and all he stands for. There! I said it. Don't even get me started on Buffy. I haven't been that bent out of shape about the series finale because I just don't love it like I used to. I mean, I love it, in that I love the whole thing, the whole series, the whole experience, but I certainly don't love it like I once did. I caught the repeat of The Prom this morning on F/X, and it was all I could do not to bawl into my pillow. It was a different show then. I cared a lot. It moved me. Now all I can see is the overexposure of the slayers-in-training, about whom I do not care AT ALL, and Kennedy, and yes, even Spike. I love Spike, I really do, and I don't have issues with him, really, like a lot of viewers do (in that some hate him with all of their breathing guts) but it's not fair to the core characters for him to get so much freaking airtime, especially with such little time left. I don't know. I have mixed feelings about it. I think Andrew is funny, but I don't think he needs to be shown more right now or as much as Willow and Xander. I've even grown able to tolerate Dawn, a day I thought would never come, but come on! Come on. I don't know. Maybe I'm distancing myself from it so it won't be as hard when it ends. That sounds highly, HIGHLY stupid, but it could be true. I do not understand how on my scale I've gone the past few weeks from 122 to 121 to 120. How do I weigh 120? What is going on? I have been eating like such a hog lately, it's ridiculous. I ate a blueberry crepe and a ham and cheese omelet this morning courtesy of some nameless, faceless group that provided breakfast for staff. I feel tubby, but 120 tells me this is not possible. It's very, very weird. I slept assily last night, and I'm going to stay in tonight, watch some must-see-TV, and relax. Tomorrow night it's margaritas after work. Saturday it's babysitting for my friend's 3.5-month-old and Sunday it's hopefully a matinee of A Mighty Wind. Oh, and Kymm is a doll, and her summation brought tears to my eyes: Eliza had a really quite astoundingly crappy Lent. The wedding was called off, and no matter how much you know in your heart that it will all turn out to be for the best, that doesn't matter a good goddamn while you're in the thick of it. She found comfort in faith, found out that what she lost wasn't worth keeping, showed how strong and smart she is, boxed up the memories, remembered the good times, slowly started to come back into the light, and decided to throw a party on the day that she would have gotten married. That's a brilliant idea. We all love you, Eliza. Random commentary: EB to MP: "I've got to stop listening to The Last Five Years. It's kind of killing me!" MP to EB: "I know. I had to put it away and I'm not having relationship trauma. It's kind of killing that way." Truer words were never spoken. get notified. journal archives © Copyright 2003 elb