I have a lot of time on my hands, given that I’m currently a housewife. One of the ways I pass the time (read: procrastinate from cleaning the litter-boxes) is to trawl Netflix for streaming video worth watching for more than five minutes. As anyone with a Netflix streaming video habit can attest, that gets difficult after a while. Soon you’re down to Syfy monster movies and direct-to-video nerds-have-a-party-with-boobs stuff, and …yeah. A whole lot of bad movies.
That said, I love some bad movies. LOVE. So while some are on Netflix, I figured I’d share. While they’re “free” (read: cost of a monthly streaming membership, so about $10/month).
Why I love it (and big spoilers) after the cut: Continue reading
It’s not often I flay myself for folks to read, though I’m not exactly known for aiming kindness my own way. Anyway. My lovely husband and I are attending FogCon at the moment, which is a charming little literary sf/f convention. Highly recommended, well organized.
So, the tale. We decided tonight to get room service for dinner. Now, we had lunch at …11:30ish? It’s 7 now. And I was hungry! So we ordered a glomp of food, a true glomp. Or what I saw as a glomp because I’m completely disordered about food and appropriateness. So when the nice young waiter brought our food and it was on a special table due to so many plates, I immediately slipped into a sort of humiliation fugue state. With every perfectly reasonable dish he uncovered, I grew more and more wretched.
Finally, at the end of the recitation, I heard myself telling this bullshit story about how we hadn’t eaten all day, and wow, and it was going to feel good to finally have food, and …I just lied. I straight up lied to a young man I’ll never see again because I was so horrified with the amount of food we ordered. (for the record, we each had chicken tenders and fries, and an appetizer, and split a dessert. not that it matters) He walked out after mumbling some reassurance that really meant “I-don’t-care-lady.” My husband looked at me and said, “Oh honey,” and I burst into tears.
There are days I wish I could cut off my stomach with a knife. There are days when I wish I really could live on air and water, rather than ever put any food into my mouth ever again. There are days when I want so badly to not be in the body I’m in that I can barely stand it.
I mean…I’m doing good things for myself. I think I’ve lost a little weight lately, I’ve been working out, I’ve been eating better. But seriously, one imagined case of side-eye from a hotel waiter, and I was nearly hysterical. I put myself in jails, and food is just one more set of bars.
I can hear my husband at the front of the apartment. He’s assembling a complicated Lego building, which means little plastic pieces are rattling together in the Tupperware he’s scavenged from the kitchen for sorting. He’s playing Kacey Musgraves; he’s been going through a country-girl sort of phase (with my full support).
All three cats are lounging in sunspots in the bedroom. When all the shades are pulled high, a nearly solid wall of sunlight shoves into the room. I can hear the tinny growl of a tiny airplane engine, and beyond that, construction, and beyond that, the waves of the Pacific and the trolley’s occasional bell. Pretty good day.
It’s always a good day when I receive fantastic colors by mail.
My husband has already posted it in several other locations (king of social media that he is), but I should declare it in my own voice too. I’ve sold my first poem, and it was just published. I’m humbled and thrilled. It’s a short work about an AI who just wants to make you happy.
Writers who are a lot smarter than I am have already written reams about True Detective. See here, and here. But whether you see the show as a funky character piece, a procedural with unreliable narrators, or a dip into a murky-deep mythos, I’ll say this: while I’m watching, I have to remind myself to breathe. Each hour intensifies a sense of sick tension that I’ve never really experienced with a TV show. The 8-episode run is more than half finished. I want the last three episodes now.
Spoilery spoiler spoiler SPOIL after the cut.
or: The Lego Movie, a mini-review
It’s old news by now that the Lego movie is a ton of fun. For an extended toy commercial, I actually found it fairly affecting. There’s something to be said about imagination and teamwork and respecting different aptitudes and not being afraid to “break” things and explore, etc. etc. It was also a hoot to hear Morgan Freeman and Liam Neeson cut loose. Well worth seeing even if you’re not escorting kids to the theater.
That is also the catchiest theme song in the history of theme songs.
Just to keep track for myself, here’s the list:
Gail Simone/Walter Geovani’s Red Sonja
Gail Simone (and a ton of others)’s anthology Legends of Red Sonja
Brian Hurtt and Cullen Bunn’s The Sixth Gun
Anything Marvel puts out that has Thor and Sif in it. I read my beloved Marvel titles through the Marvel Unlimited app, which is usually about six months behind. So I’m still getting to squee about Young Avengers “as it happens,” and Sif’s travails in Journey into Mystery, and Thor’s God-Butcher storyline, which is just fantastic. Captain Marvel (Carol Danvers version)! Hawkeye!
I’m still reading Fables, mostly because I like Bigby so much. We download The Walking Dead every month, but my investment in that seems to have tapered off altogether.
East of West! I’m still completely lost, but I love the style.
Rachel Rising, Saga (of course; it’s brilliant), the 2013 reboot of Astro City, and our latest fun find, Afterlife with Archie.
I cannot stop laughing at this, even though I am in California and have balmy(ish) temperatures in terrible drought. Polar vortex! Polar vortex!