Of No Import

The Wussification of Darth Vader

2012-01-07T10:33:00.005-06:00

It's official: Darth Vader is no longer cool. He's a burger.

I'm not sure how we've reduced the Lord of the Sith to a couple of meat patties between an entirely unappetizing pair of blackened buns. As the American Film Institute's number 3 villain behind Hannibal Lecter and Norman Bates, you'd think he would have a little more cred. But his reputation as galactic bad-ass seems to have deteriorated over the past years ten years or so. What happened to the days when Imperial officers went to work every morning afraid they were going to be Force-choked? What happened to the Vader who was the symbol of the Reagan-era Cold War when "Star Wars" meant the possibility of Russians and Americans duking it out in space?

My guess is that the Imperial march from feared tyrant to fast food probably had more to do with the prequel movies than anything preceding it. Audiences everywhere cringed and moaned through three films watching Anakin Skywalker's painful anti-hero journey. I propose that the culmination in our first look at the newborn Anakin turned Vader in 2005 set the tone for his subsequent wussification in pop culture.

Because when you come off the table like a Frankenstein monster and scream "Noooooooo!" you're in for the mocking of a lifetime.

Or perhaps you'd prefer the Chinese translation-retranslation of subtitles version that spawned the infamous "Do not want" meme:

Of course, there have been plenty of parodies and jokes before the prequels (see Spaceballs, 1987). But much of that happened before we knew about the origins of Vader. There was still mystery surrounding his life, and we were left to speculate why he was the person he was, given only the barest glimpses of his humanity in crucial moments in the original trilogy.

Now we know Vader was a reckless immaculate conception slave kid with anger issues, a swollen ego, and a mommy complex. And Lucas, in all his great wisdom, has decided to reissue the original trilogy and add that extra "Noooooooooo!" to the end of Return of the Jedi so that we can bookend the story between two hugely unappetizing pieces of crap.

Not unlike that burger, actually.

For your perusal:

Spaceballs, 1987

Chad Vader, 2006

Darth Vader Dancing to "Can't Touch This", 2009

Robot Chicken Star Wars--Orientation Day on the Death Star, 2010

Volkswagen Commercial, 2011

Cello Wars (Star Wars Parody) by Steven Sharp Nelson (see 2:05), 2011

Darth Vader for President (Rick Perry Strong Parody), 2011

Mad Men: Don Draper in the First Three Episodes of the First Season

2011-09-18T20:29:00.003-05:00

I'm Don Draper! I'm dashing and handsome, with well tailored suits, ice-blue eyes that will stop your heart and freeze your soul, and a chin cleft you can strike a match on. Look at my lover! Isn't she hot? Check out my office! It's swank and we drink and smoke and sexually harass the womenfolk all the time. Not only that, but I've got a beautiful house in the suburbs, a beautiful wife and two kids. Weren't the fifties great?

(But deep down inside, I don't know who I am or what I want or why I'm here. You can tell because I start to talk more slowly when I go too deep into my dark thoughts, and my eyes go all shimmery.)

Check me out while I be all debonair for this sexy ice-queen lady and put her in a compromising position. She totally deserved to be put in her place for pulling that strong-woman bullshit at the meeting.

(Inside, I'm dying...grasping for what, I don't know.)

My wife is hot, and she's mine, and I know she'll never be displeased with me, which is why I get away with all kinds of shit.

(I want to die.)

Look, honey, a puppy!

(I'm drunk.)

I'm sure this show will get better, according to everyone around me. But if the Draper is going to be this self-centered throughout the series, I think I might have a hard time stomaching it.

In Which I Speak Entirely in Star Wars to the Hubby

2011-09-01T08:16:00.002-05:00

Me: I love you so much, honey. I'm so lucky to have you.
Him: It's not luck. You asked me out.
Me: "In my business, there's no such thing as luck."
Him: *smiles*
Me: "Nothing like a good blaster at your side, kid."
Him: *looks away*
Me: "That's no moon!"
Him: *turns over to sleep*
Me: "...Boring conversation anyhow."

I stopped because he wasn't moving...and because I had nothing better to do

2011-08-05T19:57:00.006-05:00

Today I tried to help a man who was sleeping in the street.

This does not make me a hero. I am not writing about this to brag.

In fact, I am ashamed to admit that the only reason I took notice and stopped to do something about it was because I had time to do so. Nowhere to go, nothing pressing to take care of. I helped him because I had nothing better to do.

I had the afternoon off and was reveling in my free time. When I walked by the shirtless man prone on the sidewalk on Yonge Street south of Bloor, I thought it would be a good deed to bring him a bottle of water and some chocolate to help him through whatever he was trying to sleep off.

When I returned with provisions, he was still lying there in half-fetal position, taking up half the sidewalk. I wondered how long he'd been motionless in that busy corridor while everyone walked around him.

I bent down and tried to call him awake. He didn't move. I asked if he was all right. No response. I gave him a little poke and shook him. He was breathing, thank God. He didn't smell particularly off--no urine or vomit or even alcohol. But his clothes were ragged, and his bare torso was covered in scrapes, sores and bruises. On his back was a big indigo tattoo that said Mom. On his arm, Madison. Portraits of smiling faces circled his back, sides and chest. They were quite skillfully done.

"Crack," a man in a suit above me said. He was in his late-forties, a stout guy who looked like he'd seen a lot of the city, with nice but worn black dress shoes, thick-framed glasses and a yellow tie.

I stared up at him, confused by his comment. "He hasn't moved in a really long time. I stopped because I was concerned."

He was with two female companions, who waited for him up ahead. Frowning, he pulled out a cell phone and dialed 911. Some people slowed, stopped to watch a moment before walking on. I continued to try coaxing the man to wakefulness, but he didn't bat an eye. Dead to the world, but still breathing.

Yellow Tie was on hold. "It's probably drugs or booze," he said. "He's probably just sleeping it off."

I had decided that was probably the case, but I hadn't stopped because he was "just another drunk." The man was lying on the ground in the middle of Yonge Street and no one was stopping to check on him. No one. If it had been me lying on the ground like that, how long would it have taken people to stop and check on me? How many people would have assumed "drunk druggie" and moved on?

"How did you know it was crack?" I asked. I was looking for track marks or some outward evidence of substance abuse. I don't really know how crack works.

He opened his mouth, blinked, hesitated before saying, "I've dealt with a lot of Native peoples on reservations." But I think we both had the same thought then: we had no idea what had left this man senseless, sleeping on the bare concrete beneath the fetid, oily exhaust of the nearby faux Asian noodle house.

"He's drunk," a young man smilingly told us as he walked by. As if he were informing us that people in this city just lie on sidewalks wherever they please. As though he were being helpful and informative. As though he were telling us the bus wasn't running, but hey, that's public transit for you.

The man with the tattoos was still lying in the street.

"He's probably just sleeping it off." A young woman with a slice of gourmet pizza stopped next to us. "I know this guy. His friends are just around the corner."

"I stopped because he wasn't moving." This had become my mantra.

"Maybe I should call them over." She sighed. "Joe. Hey, Joe, buddy, wake up."

As Yellow Tie continue talking with 911 operators, I chatted with the young woman. I found out she worked at a drop-in refuge centre just around the corner. "Jane" was familiar with the man and his friends. Soon after, a fire truck arrived and three hard-faced firemen came out with first-aid supplies. They questioned Jane and Yellow Tie while they tried to shake Joe awake.

"Make sure to wash your hands really thoroughly," Yellow Tie told me sternly. "I mean it. You don't know what these guys have. Hep C, that kind of thing. Remember." He disappeared after that.

I watched the firemen as they got Joe to move a little. They kept pushing down on a spot on his jaw just below his ear, trying to get him to open his eyes. If he didn't wake up, or couldn't walk away on his own, they would have to take him to the hospital, and they did not seem keen on that. Neither did Jane, whose gourmet pizza slice was now sitting on the ground. I imagine the hospital was the last place Joe wanted to be...apart from the slammer. That possibility hung over all of us.

I started worrying that I'd cause Joe--and everyone else--more harm than good by stopping to see if he was alive. I didn't want him to go to jail--he was just sleeping off whatever was in his system. And the firefighters looked...well, like this was just another day. I worried there could be "real" emergencies elsewhere in the city these firefighters could be attending to. One man sleeping on the street wasn't an emergency. And Jane could have been enjoying her pizza in the park. I told her I felt bad.

"No, you did right." The assertion somehow fell flat. Of course I did right--but I didn't do what other people might have done. I didn't ignore him. If I had, we all would have been allowed to keep moving on with our lives. Joe could have kept sleeping. Maybe that was what would have been best.

Now I was worried he would wake up, but wouldn't be able to walk away.

"You know this guy?" one firefighter asked me.

"I stopped because he wasn't moving."

"I know him." Jane filled them in on his background. He hung out with some guys at the refuge centre and he'd had "a rough night." They asked if drugs or alcohol had been involved. She hesitated. "I don't know for sure. At all. But there was probably crack."

They all nodded, as if this was what they suspected. I still wasn't sure how they could tell.

Finally, Joe stirred and sat up. I was relieved. He didn't say anything--he was still pretty discombobulated--but he managed to bump fists with Jane and with me after I gave him his drinks and chocolate.

I left after that. I didn't want to be another gawker.

And I wanted to wash my hands.

Later, I tried calling Jane at the refuge, but it was closed in the evening. I wanted to know if Joe was all right, and if she had managed to eat her pizza. It couldn't have been very appetizing after all that. I might even had had one delivered to the place to make up for the one left on the sidewalk. Joe could have a slice, too.

And then I realized I sympathized more with the working girl whose lunch was ruined than the man lying on the ground.

I have passed hundreds of men and women sleeping in the street, and many of them in much worse states than Joe. Men lying in their own vomit in the dead of winter, who've defecated in their clothes, who reek of piss and booze and utter despair. And except for the occasional care package at Christmas handed to the cute old man begging outside the dollar store, I have always avoided these derelicts, crossed the street if I had to. Because I have things to do and places to be; because it's none of my business what people do with their lives; because it's stupid for a woman on her own to approach a homeless person she doesn't recognize as harmless.

And I know that despite how I feel when I realize someone needs help--magnanimous, righteous, compassionate--another part of me believes these men and women on the street deserve exactly what they get. That they're passed out in their own filth because they've chosen that life, that if they really wanted help, they'd get it, get a job, get off the street.

And I don't think it's a stretch to say that many of us think the same thing now and again.

Today, I stopped because I saw a man lying on the street and I had time to think about that and ask whether he should be there. He was Native, yes. He was shirtless, yes. But I had no idea why he was there. And I knew I was being racist by assuming it was drugs or alcohol that had him in such a stupor.

Maybe I stopped to prove I wasn't racist. Maybe I stopped because I wanted to feel like I'd done a good deed. I am probably selfish and self-centred enough to delude myself into thinking I was better than all those people who didn't stop.

But I'd like to think I stopped because sleeping like the dead in the middle of a busy sidewalk isn't normal, and--here's where I get on a hypocritical soapbox--we shouldn't accept it as normal.

What if he had been Asian? Black? White? Female? Clean? Fully clothed? In a business suit? Pregnant? Lying in his own vomit? Covered in blood? At what point would you have stopped to check and see if he/she was breathing and asked if he/she needed help?

Homelessness, addiction, abuse and racism is reality. So is selfishness and pride and indifference.

But it doesn't have to be business as usual.

*The names have all been changed to protect the people involved.

BUY MY BOOK, DAMMIT

2011-06-01T21:57:00.004-05:00

Frequently Asked Questions About My Book

Title: Her Son's Hero

Publisher: Harlequin Superromance (#1718)

Author: Vicki Essex

ISBN-13: 978-0-373-71718-7

1. So, it's a romance, right? 'Cuz I don't read romances.

Yeah, it's a romance. And you're a liar: you've read romances, you just don't think they are because other things happen in them. And I didn't say you actually had to READ my book, just BUY it.

2. So, what's it about?

Go check out the Books page on my author website. Though, do you really need to know? All you have to do it BUY MY BOOK.

3. How much is it?

Go check it out on the Harlequin.com website. The price ranges around $5-$7. There is a large print, regular print and ebook version. They are all readily available through Amazon, Chapters, your local Walmart, drugstores, grocery stores...pretty much anywhere they sell Harlequin books, which is a LOT of places. BUT...

4. It's only on shelves for a MONTH????

The Harlequin business model means category romances only stay in stores until the next month's books come in. After that, you'll only find hard copies in used bookstores, libraries, and the occasional smaller store. The ebook will be available indefinitely on the Harlequin website. So BUY MY BOOK BEFORE THE END OF AUGUST. 'Cuz after that, you're SOL.

5. Well, what if I just pirate it?

Then you're a bastard, and I'm going to roll you for your latte money next time I see you walking down the street.

6. Is there sex in it?

Yes, there is one sex scene. But the book is mainly about the romantic conflict between the hero and heroine, and while the attraction smolders, you won't find any "throbbing members." At least, I'm pretty sure you won't. If you're a prude, you can easily skip the sex scene without missing much.

7. Will you sign my book?

I'd love to...but you'll do everyone a huge favor if you attend one of my signings. Check out my website for details.

8. Are you writing more?

Yup.

UFC 129 Roundup

2011-05-01T15:52:00.011-05:00

I think my night can pretty much be summed up in one word:

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

UFC 129 was amazing. I wasn't sure what I'd get for $150 plus a little extra for the Fight Club membership that got us the tickets before sales were open to the public. I was even a little wary that I wouldn't know what was going on--I pretty much only watch when GSP is fighting, and even then, not really.

But live, the experience is COMPLETELY different. The energy of 55,000 people focusing on two guys in an Octagon just swamps you. The joules of energy put out by the speakers as bass-heavy music throbs through the stadium makes your gut vibrate. The enormous screens everywhere make sure you never miss a moment, and with binoculars, I actually got a great view of everything. On top of that, it's all you can focus on. No walking away to answer the phone, no heading to the computer to check Twitter (the Rogers Centre has no reception when the dome is closed, so just turn off your phone and save battery life, folks). You must watch. And you can't blink, because stuff happens so quick, you can barely believe your eyes.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

First off, the walk to the Rogers Centre: I picked up a GSP-style headband, 2 for $10, coming out of Union Station. I don't know what the kanji says (it's got something different from what's on GSP's), but it was cheap enough that I was willing to get one to at least pretend to look like I was a serious fan. With my luck, it probably says "Sucker."

On the way along the Skywalk, dozens of sponsors and companies were handing out products. I did not know that Tapout was actually an energy drink. Buxom, scantily-clad ladies were giving out these insane tallboys in all flavors. The closer to the Dome you got, though, the more cans--open and unopened--we saw lying about. John and I cracked ours open. It was Peach Mango flavored: the manliest of the frooty flavors, apparently. We took a swig.

It tasted like fruit-flavored piss. And yet somehow, John finished it. I'm sure it was giving him a much needed (temporary) boost. (We pretty much walked all the way from our house to the Rogers Centre--about 4 hours worth of walking.)

We missed the first fight on the card, and our friends informed us it was a solid fight. I hadn't hurried much since I thought it might start a little late and would probably feature some boring fights. Boy, was I wrong. The card has almost entirely Canadian fighters up against Americans. It was obvious who the crowd was rooting for. And the fights were fantastic. They put on a good show. My favorite was Rory MacDonald vs Nate Diaz. At 21, Rory MacDonald looks like he's barely learned how to shave. He's lanky as hell, and I could see some serious acne and backne with my binoculars. It was a slow start, and the kid was cautious. It didn't help that Diaz kept taunting him, but that ended quick enough. In the third round, the kid picked him up and slammed him to the ground three times. That third time, everyone shot out of their seats, screaming. It was probably the moment I realized I was having a FREAKING AWESOME TIME. Canadians won all the matchups, except for Yves Jabouin, who lost to Pablo Garza, Sean Pierson, who lost against Jake Ellenberger, and Mark Bocek, who lost against Ben Henderson. But they were still good matches.

Neither John nor I consumed alcohol at this event. Mostly because tallboys--Budweiser or Keith's, no other choices--were $9.75 and $10.75 respectively. I opted for a bottle of Diet Coke--$4.75--and water--$4.50--when the thirst became too much to bear.

In between matches, I frequented the bathroom, which was blissfully lineup free for the ladies. Not so much for guys. (Suck it, males.) Speaking of women, the breakdown was about 1 girl for every 10 guys. Maybe it was better than that, but from where I sat, it was about that.

When Randy Couture came up to fight against Lyoto Machida, the whole audience stood up to applaud him. At 47, the guy has gray in his eyebrows. He had a really strong defense, and kept his guard up always. By the second round, though, Machida KO'd him with a stunning kick to the head. No one was upset. The two men were so gracious to each other. Machida even eschewed his translator during the post-fight Rogan interview so he could tell the world himself how much respect he had for Couture. What a terrific torch-passing match it was.

After that, it was the Hominick/Aldo fight. Aldo's a solid fighter, and really fast. He really had Hominick on the defensive. And then, Hominick got some kind of blow to the head. I couldn't exactly pinpoint when it happened, but it started off as a quarter sized white lump that just swelled and swelled in less than thirty seconds until it looked like a second head was forming. The crowd was screaming in horror. Look at these before and after shots:

They stopped the match so a physician could look at it and make sure it wasn't more serious.

The match went on. Aldo had dominated up to that fifth round, but I think he was afraid to hit that lump again, at which point Hominick managed several takedowns and got some good punches in. The win went to Aldo, though, but Mark got lots of applause. He really took his lumps.

Finally, the main event, GSP vs Jake Shields. It was nearly 11:30 pm by this point. Maybe I was getting tired, but after the excitement of the other matches, I wasn't as pumped as I thought I'd be to see GSP live. Or maybe I was just worried for him. In the end, I was a little disappointed by the fight: GSP kept it almost entirely stand-up. He probably could have finished him on the ground, but I wonder now, since his performance in UFC 111 against Dan Hardy, whether he's trying to give a better show and get more KOs in.

Well, it didn't happen this time. In fact, Shields bloodied GSP's face up pretty good. I'm used to seeing Georges entirely unscathed, so it was a little shocking when I heard later that he had to go to the hospital for his injuries. He sustained a hit to the left eye and apparently he can't see (he assured everyone on Twitter it's not a retina issue.) Kudos to Shields for a good match. He really has been the most dangerous opponent GSP has faced. I'm just a little sad GSP didn't finish him the way he wanted.

So the night should have ended there, but then some lout in our section got into a brawl without someone who messed him up really good. When they broke it up, he went at it with someone else. Security got there eventually and escorted the punk out. Dude was covered in blood and was trying to act all tough by tasting it and smiling for the crowd as they watched him walk away. Stupid ass idiot is going to regret that today when he realizes his ugly ass face is now even uglier.

We called it a night, though John and I hit Chinatown for a late-night meal at King's Noodle.
"Gawn Chow Gnaw Haw" (beef-fried soy sauce rice noodle) is the perfect hangover food even when you're not hungover.

Today, I am recovering and writing and basking in post-fun glow. It was expensive, it was rough, but I had a fantastic time. If the UFC comes back to Toronto, I may be up for another round. Fun times!

THIS IS MY BOOK.

2011-04-15T23:06:00.004-05:00

YOU SHOULD BUY IT WHEN IT COMES OUT IN JULY

OR PREORDER IT AT INDIGO/CHAPTERS, OR THROUGH AMAZON OR SOMETHING.

AND IF YOU'RE TOO EMBARRASSED TO HAVE A COPY ON YOUR SHELF, BUY THE EBOOK.

YOU SHOULD ALSO GO TO MY WEBSITE, WWW.VICKIESSEX.COM.

THAT IS ALL.

Because I fail at blogging...

2011-04-07T21:49:00.004-05:00

Links to awesomeness:

Crazy Tiger Attack!

Frieeday! (sung by Stephen Colbert)

I'm Zack! (Bar-Mitzvah video that may, in fact, be worse that Rebecca Black's Friday)

Cantonese Words of the Day by Carlos Douh

Tempted to get George Takei's Ohhh Myyy! ringtone? I know I am.

The extended Green Lantern trailer from Wondercon.

And this awesome picture, which I found in a library book. It's New York City in the "future", 1999, as it was envisioned in 1900. The library is still a wonderful, magical place!

Can it get any more official?

2011-03-10T18:46:00.001-06:00

From the Romance Writers Report, the RWA's official publication. I've been waiting a while to see my name here... 8 )

Happy International Women's Pancake Day

2011-03-08T19:34:00.002-06:00

Here's my nod to International Women's Day. Weird how as a child, having watched Mary Poppins n number of times, I never really paid any attention to this song.

And because it's also Shrove Tuesday, also known as pancake day, this:

Sigh...

2011-03-02T20:33:00.002-06:00

Well, that was fun while it lasted all of a week...

Guess I spoke too soon about the Green Room. Back to the old non-watering hole (i.e. my living room...)

The Green Room Strikes Back

2011-02-20T19:41:00.003-06:00

Last October, The Green Room, one of my favorite eclectic Annex haunts featuring mismatched furniture, cheap food and scuzzy beer, was shut down "for good" for violating numerous health codes. The stories of cockroach droppings and spoiled food didn't exactly surprise me: this is downtown Toronto, after all.

Hubby and I lamented the closure--it was the central gathering place for our friends on Friday and Saturday nights. Our first two dates were at the Green Room. We regularly craved their spicy Vietnamese noodle soup and greasy sandwiches. And we could always count on a hearty meal under $10. The washrooms were frequently out of order, forcing co-ed use of the men's stalls. The worn floors creaked, the tables were sticky. The lights were kept low, I imagine, to ensure no one could see just how disgusting the place actually was.

But it was home. And we missed it.

Well, like a roach from the ashes of nuclear holocaust, The Green Room has returned.

John and I spotted a Tweet saying the lights were on and someone appeared to be home. Sure enough, The Green Room reopened its doors on Friday, sporting working plumbing (as far as I can tell) in the bathrooms, and a brand-spanking-new tile floor on the lower level. The kitchen smelled antiseptically clean. Seriously. The fluorescent lighting inside that small space didn't leave any corner in shadow. Even the usually dingy lights of the bar seemed brighter.

The strings of Christmas lights were gone, as were the disembodied mannequin legs. But the familiar OCAD-esque paintings remained. It was the same old Green Room...but better. Cleaner.

For now.

Since it's still early in their resurrection, most of their menu was woefully unavailable, but the favorites were still listed. Happily, they've also added one of my faves from its sister restaurant the Red Room: fried tofu with special spicy BBQ sauce. The chicken wings were plump and juicy and--everyone asked me this, I swear--perfectly cooked. No chance of salmonella, I'm certain.

Another perennial favorite, vegetarian spring rolls, were perfectly hot, crisp, fresh, and the accompanying tangy dipping sauce rounded off the flavor nicely.

I should say here that I've never gotten sick at the Green Room. I know what I'm paying for when I go, and whether others choose to revisit the bar is entirely up to them. In any case, I happily welcome them back, and hope they've learned from their previous infractions and manage to stay open this time. Otherwise, where else will I get my spicy Vietnamese soup noodle fix?

Photo from Blog TO.

Are You RUSHFIT?

2011-01-18T09:00:00.000-06:00

I already know I'm not.

I guess it was only a matter of time before GSP came out with his own workout program, RUSHFIT, now available on DVD. I wonder whether he'll look back and regret these in five or ten years--it seems like no one in the world can make a workout video that doesn't look dated.

Some great quotes from the website:

Is GSP RUSHFIT for women?

YES. RUSHFIT was designed for both men and women, and women instructors appear in each workout DVD. Ladies, there is no reason you can't work as hard, train like a champion the way Georges St-Pierre does, and see results as good or better than any guy. This is as close to 1-on-1 time with GSP that women can get.

You hear that, ladies? AS CLOSE AS YOU CAN GET TO ONE-ON-ONE WITH GSP. You will NEVER get to smell him, but you can imagine the aroma of his sweat as you sweat along with him!

I'm not familiar with MMA or mixed martial arts moves. I don't want to be a fighter or beat people up, is this for me?

YES. Though it blends some MMA-specific techniques, RUSHFIT is a functional fitness program. There is no hitting or physical confrontation. The value in the workouts is the MMA style strength and conditioning that applies to anyone and all sports.

But...what if I do want to beat someone up?

The program itself looks horribly painful, but as the champ says, "Enjoy the release of pain."

I'm trying to enjoy the release of sweat, myself. There's a lot of it. No wonder he had such a nice complexion.

Watch the assessment video: it's pretty grueling, and Georges comes out of it saying "That was the worst day of my life." Considering my allergy to pain, something tells me this is not the workout for me.

Skater Hater

2011-01-16T11:22:00.005-06:00

Ice skating at Nathan Phillips Squares: it's one of those winter pastimes in Toronto that evokes certain experiences from my youth--awkwardly shuffling across the rink while wearing three layers of bulky clothing Mom made my put on; runny noses and scarves damp with exhalation; sipping hot chocolate through a coffee stir stick and scalding my tongue and hands and soaking my mittens because the cup was so overfull....

One year in high school, I sprained both ankles within the same month, and they were never the same afterwards. I didn't dare trust myself on the ice with weak ankles. And so I gave up ice skating.

Yesterday was the first time I'd gone in more than fifteen years. As I stepped tentatively upon the ice rink at City Hall, the memories all came back, along with a few new experiences.

Old news: frozen toes, ill-fitting skates, that feeling of burning in your fingers as you try to lace up your rental skates tighter, soggy laces, soggy everything else, no place to sit, an overcrowded rink with the consistency of a hard-packed snow cone, crappy radio music from the local top 40 hits station, and douche bag show offs.

New news: skate rentals at $10 for 2 hours (20 minutes of which was spent waiting for the Zamboni to clear the ice), shooting pain in my lower shins and hips, a real fear of falling and hurting myself, the urge to push aside all the children stumbling in my path and threatening to trip me up, and the urge to punch the douche bag show offs trying to scare you into falling.

I'm not sure I had fun: every round I made, I had to stop to rest my shins (what the hell is that pain?) and I didn't get my customary hot chocolate and chip truck fries and gravy reward at the end. I didn't even get a good workout--just a lot of strain on parts of my body I don't use very often.

Would I do it again? Sure...if I had my own skates and ice rink that had the consistency of linoleum when skating on it, and the buoyancy of a mattresses when I fell. Someone should get to work on that.

Every little thing gonna be all right

2011-01-09T12:24:00.003-06:00

My "surrogate grandmother," Doreen Hamilton, 1938 - 2011,

who brought my mother to this country.

A Zen lady who loved Reggae, Buddhism, the arts, and living on the island

We only got to know you a little these past eight years.

Thank you for all that you've done.

You will be missed.

"Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right.

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Rise up this mornin',

Smiled with the risin' sun,

Three little birds

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin' sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true,

Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:")

Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Rise up this mornin',

Smiled with the risin' sun,

Three little birds

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin' sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true,

Sayin', "This is my message to you-ou-ou:"

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!

Every little thing gonna be all right. Don't worry!"

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing" - I won't worry!

"'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right" - I won't worry!

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, oh no!

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!

OMG New content???

2011-01-03T10:10:00.004-06:00

Yeah, I've been neglecting my personal blog in favor of my author blog. Sorry 'bout that. But let me try to promise at least 2 posts a month for the rest of 2011, if not more. Surely there's enough weirdness going on in my life now (even as a married woman) that I might share with the rest of the world.

Today, for instance: I went to work today, only to discover the office was closed. I'd checked the company's holiday calendar online to make sure that they were open, and as far as I could tell, there was no holiday listed for today. Well. Serves me right to believe anything I read on the Internet.

So, some things to share while I've got your attention:

Reasoning with Vampires: This is a hilarious, educational and often scathing analysis of the writing in the Twilight series. I've never read the books, mind you, and I don't always agree with the assessment of use of clauses beginning with conjunctions. (Writers do it all the time. And it doesn't mean they're wrong.) But the postings present some pretty awful stuff. Not sure I do want to read the series now...it'd hurt my copy editing brain too much.

Red Letter Media reviews: In a slightly befuddled monotone mumble, this guy dissects the Star Wars prequels, Star Trek films, and a few other mediocre to great sci-fi blockbusters. He points out all the ways the filmmakers manipulate the audience, why the Star Wars prequels were such failures, and does a phenomenal and hilarious job of intelligently comparing and contrasting pop culture works. The only complaint is that he sometimes delves into these very disturbing (meant to be funny) sidebars that involve violence against women and general creepiness. Still, if you have a few hours to kill (because some of the reviews go on for 90 minutes in some cases) these are terrific supplements to your pop culture studies.

More blogging to come. Promise.

All Hail Jabba the Ford

2010-10-26T18:17:00.002-05:00

His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Ford, has decreed that you are to be terminated immediately.

In his belly, you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you are slowly digested over a thousand years. (Regarding the Sarlaac pit, but probably just as apt a description of ol' Jabba.)

P.S. I would have put Smitherman in Carbonite, but I'm too depressed to.

A Month of Giveaways!

2010-10-15T21:35:00.001-05:00

With marketing ramping up on VickiEssex.com, I'm gonna be cross posting a lot of stuff. So bear with me, folks. Making work counts and blogging is sapping my dry.

This is a post about a contest I'm running: go check it out for your chance to win one of four Harlequin vintage prize packs!

A Month of Giveaways!

GSP Is Not Impressed By Your Performance

2010-09-28T21:03:00.001-05:00

I SOLD MY MOTHER#$^&*$#@ BOOK!!!!!!!

2010-09-23T18:45:00.003-05:00

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Go to my new website and read the story of how it happened! Then bookmark my website and visit it every day! DO IT DO IT DO IT!!!

Vickiessex.com

Publishers Weekly Fan Expo Write Up

2010-08-31T18:07:00.004-05:00

My Publishers Weekly blog post write up on Fan Expo is up!

The other author, Heather, and I would love it if you leave comments there!

You can also check out more pics from the con at my Victory Essex blog.

Thanks!

Dear Tahmoh...

2010-08-29T12:09:00.003-05:00

Dear Tahmoh Penikett,

Please stop being so hot. I'm a happily married woman now, but whenever I have to look up your name, which is frequently for some reason, I end up at your Wikipedia page and this picture.

You are way too fine with your OJ and cool, assessing gaze. And the suggestive position of your microphone makes me want to come up and ask you questions.

I love my husband. So four the sake of our happy marriage, please stop being so awesome.

Sincerely,

Vicki.

EDIT: FOR the sake of our happy marriage. Thanks for catching that, Jenny!

Fan Expo 2010

2010-08-28T22:26:00.003-05:00

I spent a long time trying to decide whether or not to go to Fan Expo this year, but after a long deliberation--and an announcement that said Tahmoh Penikett was making an appearance--I decided to get tickets for John and I for Friday, the least busy day of the con.

Boy, was I ever wrong about that. There was a two-hour lineup stretching around the block of the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. I had to stay because Publishers Weekly asked me to be a cub reporter and do a write-up of the event. (Link to come soon, I hope!)

On top of that, I made this video of the queue. Enjoy!

Yup.

2010-08-24T00:01:00.001-05:00

"31 Today" from Aimee Mann

Awake

2010-08-22T06:33:00.000-05:00

I was lying in bed eyes wide-open for the past...hour? Two hours? And my body has decided it no longer requires sleep. That, in combination with my ridiculously full belly and threatening heartburn, has forced me from my bed

So here I am at the crack of dawn, around 6:25 a.m. checking a Twitter feed that has stopped chirping, with some mind to go and edit my YA book.

Right. Like anything will be coherent at this hour.

Just so you have an idea of how early it is: Even the cat is still asleep. Which wouldn't be news, except that he's usually awake at the slightest indication of us stirring.

I'm trying to decide whether I should concede defeat and brush my teeth now so I'm fully "up"--writing with morning breath is awful, and I can still taste dinner.

My real hope is that I'll start to fade again and have to crawl back into bed around 8:00 a.m., when the rest of the world is just getting up to put on their Sunday bests.

Okay, early-morning blathering over. Going to try to "work" now.

Why Can't I Quit You?

2010-08-16T21:14:00.005-05:00

It's come to my attention that there are certain faces among Hollywood's up-and-coming elite that have been inspiring a certain amount of fascination and terror in my heart whenever I see them on screen. I don't know if there's a common thread, but I decided to put up all their faces and decide what it is about them that freaks me out and simultaneously draws me in.

Cillian Murphy: I first saw him in Batman Begins as the Scarecrow/Dr. Jonathan Crane. His pretty blue eyes and chiseled features would draw sighs from any red-blooded woman. And then I noticed the thinness of his lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual pucker, and the deadness of his eyes, as if whatever powers brought him back to life failed to reanimate those parts of him. It's a perfect trait for the creepy Batman villain, so I thought, great performance. And then I saw him in Inception, and lo and behold, the pucker, the dead eyes...I was thoroughly creeped out, but I couldn't stop looking at him. Or appreciating his talent, of course.

Zachary Quinto: The essential charismatic psychopath, I would get Quinto to play just about any killer. His performance in Heroes as Sylar is beyond compare, and his Spock is bang-on. Aside from being a terrific murderer, he's also a horribly convincing nice guy, which automatically slots him in the love-him-but-don't-trust-him category of men you want in the sack but shouldn't close your eyes around. I'd love to see him play Machiavelli in some twisted biopic, perhaps directed by Tim Burton.

Kieran Culkin: To paraphrase a certain Joss Whedonverse character, he's a little bit Chess Club for my usual beat, but after seeing him play "cool gay roommate" Wallace in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, I was charmed. Such casual ease. Such debonair grace. Of course it was all acting, and I've never seen him in anything else, but he did a fabulous job convincing me I'd want to try getting him to bat for the girls. Or is that boys? I'm bad at metaphors. Be not gay, in any case.

Still, that pasty Culkin complexion and greasy hair is really not my thing. Nor are the vampire-red wet lips. Really, I think he should have been cast in Twilight. He wouldn't have needed much makeup.

Alan Tudyk: The Firefly alum falls more on the side of attractive than not, mainly due to his performance as Wash. I mean, who wouldn't want a guy who plays with dinosaurs piloting your ship? He's like that cool uncle who brings you video games your mom would never let you have and lets you stay up past your bedtime watching horror flicks while drinking orange soda.

But then I started seeing him in not so nice guy roles. His guest appearance on CSI as a rehabilitated child molester freaked me right the hell out. And then he pulled the creep-guns out again in Dollhouse as mastermind maniac Alpha, and again as an agent of the Visitors in V. Love him, stay the hell away from him...I can do both, right?

Who creeps you out who you can't get enough of?

DO NOT WANT AGAIN!

2010-08-13T21:33:00.001-05:00

Her Cinderella Secret got rejected by The Wild Rose Press.

*Sad trombone noise*

Read the details here.

Epithets and Gender: a Douche Bag's Musings

2010-08-10T20:34:00.006-05:00

After reading the comments from my entry into the TRW's Gold contest, I noticed at least two of the judges picked out "prick" as being an epithet associated with men and thus incorrect when referring to a woman.

I have been pondering the gender assignments of epithets since, and trying to determine if or whether there is a higher number of gender-specific epithets for men because there are simply more words to describe male genitalia, or because the association is based on social interaction, where insults among men are sometimes a part of male bonding.

Or is it because I don't know that many words to negatively describe a woman?

The other question I have is about why certain terms seem to be gender specific. It's rare you hear about women being called dickwads, assholes or pricks, for instance. The go-to seems to be bitch or the C-word, if you're feeling particularly vituperative.

And then there are the head-scratchers. For example, whenever I hear the term "Douche bag" I associate it with the male gender, even though a douche bag is a product used mainly by women. "Motherf*cker" is normally associated with men (with Oedipal complexes, I assume), but you never hear people say "fatherf*cker." I don't know what to make of "twat" either.

Don't get me started on homosexual insults--that's a can of worms I'm not going to open in this post.

Feel free to comment, add to the list, give your two cents.

WARNING: The content below will definitely offend some people.

Words to describe men:

Dick (dickwad, dickhead, etc.), prick, douche bag, asshole, bastard, jerk (jerkface, jerkwad, etc.), motherf*cker, wanker...

Words to describe women:

Bitch, c*nt, whore, slut...

Made the finals!

2010-08-08T13:03:00.002-05:00

My MMA-based contemporary romance novel Fighting for Her Love made the finals for the Toronto Romance Writers' Gold contest!

Read the good news here.

Three Kangaroos

2010-08-08T12:33:00.002-05:00

I've reclaimed the printer/scanner and installed the drivers so I can provide more of my elementary nonsense for the masses.

This is from a book of dictated stories, in which the student draws a picture and then tells a story to go with it, which the teacher writes down. I believe was from grade one.

Apparently, kangaroos like milk and picnics. Note the rainbow birds piled atop each other.

SQUEE!

2010-08-02T22:08:00.004-05:00

I have been coveting the Avatar: The Last Airbender -- The Art of the Animated Series book since it came out. It's an Avatard's dream.

I read the book cover to cover on the drive to and back from Bruce Peninsula. All I can say is wow. I mean, WOW. You never think about the detail and thought that goes into a show like this until you really sit down to study it all frame by frame. There's a reason for everything in this show, and studying the design has only increased my appreciation for the series...and made me want to rewatch it for those little things I missed the first time.

Love the insider notes from creators Bryan and Mike. Foreward by M. Night Shyamalan is grudgingly entertaining. But let's not speak of his atrocities when we have such pretty shinies to look at, hmm?

No, you can't borrow it. Okay, well, maybe, if you read it in front of me while wearing gloves.

Avatar: The Legend of Korra

2010-07-21T19:53:00.005-05:00

I'm still squeeing about this.

“The Legend of Korra takes place 70 years after the events of ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender’ and follows the adventures of the Avatar after Aang - a passionate, rebellious, and fearless teenaged girl from the Southern Water Tribe named Korra.”

Korra’s quest eventually leads her to Republic City - the epicenter of the world of “Avatar.” A metropolis powered by steampunk-type technology, the city is inhabited by people from all nations. Korra finds that Republic City suffers from rampant crime and is also dealing with an anti-bender revolt. Korra is tutored by Aang’s son, Tenzin, is the ways of airbending."

Interesting things I'm looking forward to:

1. New set design. Seventy years means a lot of technological advances. The designers did such a terrific job painting the Avatar world that adding more steampunk to it might detract from the beautiful traditional Asian setting, but considering how awesome some of the sets look, I'm not too worried.

2. Korra. The new Avatar will likely be taking a more traditional path towards training for her career. And considering the bulk of the ATLA audience have been women ages 14-40 (and older!), it will be very interesting to see where the series takes the viewers in what was previously a primarily boys 9-12 viewership.

More specifically, I want to know:

a) What will Korra's spirit guide be? (Roku had a dragon, Aang had Appa...)

b) Will she Bloodbend? (Please say yes.)

c) What nation will her love interest be from? I'm voting fire...because I bet Bryan and Mike are going to squeeze that Zutara in somehow... And yes, don't doubt for a minute that there won't be a romance subplot. Teenage female Avatar? It begs for a YA romance.

3. Tenzin. It's terrific we'll get to see the next generation carry on, an important theme in the ATLA universe. Considering our happy little Airbender would have died at age 83 (the series ends when he's about 13), I can only imagine Aang's son being adult-aged: heck, he could be an old man or, if Aang was particularly virile, a teenager himself. Will he take after his father? Will he resent the fact that he has to contend with yet another Avatar? Will he resent and brood over the fact that he is one of the last Airbenders? (Or is he...?)

4. Whatever happened to...? Everyone still has questions about Zuko's mom, about the Spirit World, about all our favorite characters. Perhaps a few flashbacks will resolve those issues and satisfy our curiosity.

2011 can't come soon enough, and it'll probably be late in arriving...that's okay, though. I waited 3 years for the Shyamalan movie, I'll wait however long I need to to wash its taint with this glorious new series.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

2010-07-21T10:14:00.001-05:00

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!!

New Avatar: The Last Airbender animated series announced!!!

Nickelodeon has officially announced that a sequel to the critically acclaimed “Avatar: The Last Airbender” is the works! From the creator-producers of “Avatar: The Last Airbender,” “The Legend of Korra” (tentatively titled) animated series is slated to premiere in 2011. According to Nickelodeon executive Brown Johnson, the new series will follow the adventures of a teenage Water Tribe girl avatar named Korra (pictured above presumably), described as a independent hothead “ready to take on the world.”

Perhaps this will wash away the taint of Shyamalan's film....

The Last Airbender in Five Stages of Grief

2010-07-02T22:41:00.003-05:00

Denial – Surely this can't be the movie Shyamalan intended. No, hell, no, they didn't spend $150 million and 3 years on this, the live action version on my most beloved show ever.

Anger – No. NO! How can this be happening? How can you say that? Aang! And it's Ang not Ahhng; stop talking! Stop it! Act! For God's sake, act the way you do kung-fu! Gaah! Shyamalan, what have you done?!

Bargaining – C'mon, just...just get us through this with the giant Ocean Spirit rising up and pushing the Fire Nation out to sea and everything will be okay. Just give us the Deus Ex we need for this series to be something and it will all be good, and I swear, if Aang just says "No. It's not over," I will watch this film twice more and watch the sequels three times each!

Depression – Noooooo...nooooo.... Oh God, why.... No, Katara, stop talking. Your expositions means nothing...nothing.... I'll never be able to tell anyone I'm an ATLA fan ever again....

Acceptance – *sigh* We'll always have the TV series. Really, it's a shame they never made a live action film. THEY NEVER MADE A LIVE ACTION FILM. (Go to step 1.)

Review: M. Night Shyamalan`s The Last Airbender

2010-07-02T20:42:00.009-05:00

There's no way I can say this gracefully. Let this screenshot from the original series say it all.

M. Night. Shyamalan's The Last Airbender was HORRIFIC.

Forget about the Racebending issues. Forget that James Cameron scooped the proper title "Avatar". Forget that the movie cost $150 million to make.

This movie sucked without any assistance.

I mean, it's not just ho-hum. Not just bad. Not just "It was a poor adaptation of a beloved cartoon series" the way Transformers was. Or even G.I. Joe. Or Garfield. Or...or...

*SOB*

*cries in my hands*

*curls up into fetal position*

IT WAS TERRIBLE.

The handful of redeeming qualities--beautifully-rendered translation of the settings and the world, sparing nods to the fandom, and special effects that blend classic wire-guideline kung-fu with excellent CGI--do not make up for the utter unwatchability of this movie.

Now, maybe I'm extremely discerning and biased, considering I've turned everyone I've encountered toward the cult of Avatar: The Last Airbender. But I'm also a writer, and that critical eye was absolutely dazzled by the ineptness of this film.

Gods, where do I start...

1. The script and storyline. You would think that Shyamalan would have been able to pull the juiciest, most potent lines from an existing TV series and created a script worthy of a condensed version of Book One: Water. You'd think he would have been able to cut away the fat and present this classic tale of the reluctant hero out to save the world with minimum distractions. I still contend he did it well in Signs, Unbreakable, and The Sixth Sense, regardless of other feelings about his later films. (I haven't watched anything since The Village...so obviously I'm missing a chunk of his career that would have given me some insight, I'm sure....)

But no. Despite having a 61-episode cartoon series that has effectively proven that its target audience is not made up of complete morons who need to be spoon-fed everything, Shyamalan turned Last Airbender into a vanity project and decided to make the world his own. (The credits state he is the writer, director and producer of the film, so we can blame him squarely for everything.)

He only rewrote a few of the rules (e.g. firebenders can't create their own fire, only manipulate it) but he decided EVERYTHING had to be explained. From the scrolling text introduction (NO. BAD SHYAMALAN. Only Star Wars is allowed to do that!) to Katara's incessant voice over (thanks, Katara, I can see the Sokka and Yue are interested in each other, thanks for not trusting the actors) this movie was filled with tell, not show; words, not action.

We can see little to no development of Aang's (irritatingly pronounced pronounced Ahhng in the film instead of Ang in the TV series) character. Every word out of his mouth made me cringe. He might as well have turned to the screen, broken the fifth wall and said, "This is where I'm supposed to show you how inspiring I can be, even if all I seem like is a young kid."

The script and story structure was cheesy, cliche, bland, drawn-out, and at times non-sensical, and it did nothing to evoke any sentiment whatsoever. It was alternatively too short to relate the epic tale, yet way too long in its pacing. It was heavy handed, repetitive, and just plain bad. I know dozens of fanfic writers who could have written more convincing and interesting dialogue. Hell, by the end of it, I was pretty certain I could cobble together a better script.

2. The acting. To be fair, these poor slobs, including Slumdog Millionaire's Dev Patel, didn't have a whole lot to work with. There were brief flashes of real skill, but I can only imagine Shyamalan suppressed it. I've only ever seen this level of acting constipation in Star Wars: Episodes 1, 2 and 3.

Jackson Rathborn as Sokka (Sew-ca in this film version vs. the canon Saw-ca) looked like he was ready to burst in every scene. Katara was whiny, and reminiscent of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Dawn, except without any of the subtlety or teenage torment. And Noah Ringer...geez, I don't know where they got this kid, but they should have relegated him to stunt double and put an actual actor in his place. He tried, he really did. But that script did absolutely nothing to help.

On the Fire Nation's side, Shaun Taub's Iroh (pronounced Ear-roe, instead of canon Eye-roe) was the only passable performance. I kept expecting Aasif Mandvi's Zhao to start every line with, "Well, John..."; and Dev Patel seemed like he was phoning it in...except that he was drunk-dialing an ex-girlfriend at 2 a.m. Appropriate, perhaps, for poor, tortured Zuko, but we all know he's capable of better. I continue to blame M. Night.

3. The editing. Perhaps the rush to turn this feature into 3D one forced someone to choose the splashy scenes over the goods ones. But since I watched this in 2D, I can say that making this 3D definitely won't help.

Part of me thinks there's a much better movie on the cutting-room floor. It felt like there were huge gaps in the story; of course, you're going to lose a lot of the nuances and breadth and depth when you try to pack 440 minutes of cartoon into less than 2 hours, but there were no acts that could be easily distinguished, no subtle turning points, nothing that indicated to the viewers, okay, the real world is at an end, let the journey begin; and now, that's over, here's the dark moment. We were instead treated to a lot of really slow, drawn-out martial arts scenes--beautiful, except that this is supposed to be a world where people bend. For whatever reason, Shyamalan didn't put in the thing that this movie is supposed to be about: manipulating elements. All I can think is that they ran out of time and money, having spent it entirely on doctoring a doomed script.

And on that topic of martial arts, if it takes a whole bunch of flips and punches to get one fireball to hit a guy, I think I'd rather have a bow and arrow, thanks.

By the end of it all, John and I both agreed this film could use a Phantom Edit.

Okay, major issues aside, there actually were a few things fans of the show could appreciate. Shyamalan does massacre the film, but out of necessity, he's taken a decidedly different route to tell what should have been an epic tale. We see scenes that never existed in the original series. We see nods to the show he is a huge fan of, starting with shots ripped straight from the opening credits.

The score by James Howard Newton was pretty good, blending classical epic fantasy with traditional Asian instruments.

Costumes were great. Sets were great. It was the most of the Avatar world realized.

I loved Appa and Momo, though they barely had roles in the films.

Did I have an issue with the racial profiles of characters? Not really. But the script was so bad you could have had anyone in these roles and it would have been terrible.

If Shyamalan was trying to appease the fans, he missed the mark. There's no doubt Avatards will rush to see this film that's been +3 years in the making. In fact, I'd encourage all fans to see it, just so that you understand how good the series is and learn why it's sometimes better to leave well enough alone. What is in doubt is whether enough of them will see it to produce Books 2 and 3.

Bottom line: this is yet another failure to adapt a story geared toward the young adult set for Hollywood's mass audiences. In this case, it was about as fail-tastic as it could get. If Shyamalan wants to have any hand in another film, he'd best take the producer's chair and keep his cursed mitts off anything he loves if he wants it to do well. Now that would be a twist ending.

DESPAIR

2010-07-02T09:23:00.002-05:00

The Last Airbender reviews have been DISGRACEFUL.

I would have thought it would eke out at least at 50%. I thought they would at least beat out Eclipse.

But no. Not since Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li have I seen Rotten Tomatoes ratings this low.

I feel bad for everyone involved. Especially Shyamalan.

Of course, that doesn't mean I won't still go see it. And I have to remind myself that Hollywood bases sequels on box office numbers, not reviews.

Still, at 9% Rotten, I doubt the film will draw any new fans, which would have been vital to those revenues.

Will be back soon with my review. *Cries with my face buried in Appa's fur*

Thugs Need Hugs

2010-06-27T16:44:00.008-05:00

I asked John why the douchebags who are smashing things up during the G20 because they're supposedly anti-capitalist or some such don't go out and do this every night if they feel so strongly about their cause.

"Because they're opportunists," he said.

It got me thinking about the whys of violence, of such rampant and reckless destruction without any real gain. Who are these vigilantes who have decided to commit such heedless acts of thuggery?

It's easy to dismiss them as "losers" who "don't have jobs" and "illiterate, sewer-trekking scum." But there's something else driving their black, soulless, misdirected anger.

After watching an episode of Glee, I realized what that something was. In one of my favorite rip-him-a-new-one moments, Kurt's dad says:

"You live a few years you start seeing the hate in people’s hearts, even the best people."

These people are infected with hate. They have a disease of the heart and mind that causes them to lash out in terrible ways and justify their actions with some flimsy excuse. They only come out at these moments when everyone can see them because they don't really believe in their cause enough to put in the energy or effort into fighting for what they believe in. If they did, they would do so clandestinely, with long-term plans and goals. They'd have systems and structure and funds and means, and they'd have the fervent belief that what they are doing is for the greater good. In other words, they'd be terrorists.

But all these window-smashing, car-burning lunks are are misguided thugs.

They're out there with their masks and their bats and their anger because they are crying out for help. They want to be seen. They want people to see how angry they are, and they want people to stop them, or else look at them and notice they are there. Their pain is invisible to us, so they do anything they can to grab our attention. It's the equivalent of screaming, "Mom! Look at me, Mom! Moooom! You're not looking! MOOOOOMMM!!!"

These people deserve our pity, not our scorn; they need treatment and rehabilitation, not jails.

In other words, thugs need hugs.

Who knows what drove them to this point in their life? Bad upbringing? Abuse? Hard times? Hate is easy, and is easily fed. It consumes one utterly, and spreads like a disease.

So, if ever you are faced with confronting a thug, fight them the way a Care Bear would. Show them love and understanding, use words, and give them a hug. It's likely they haven't ever had one.

Below is a helpful demonstration of how to face off against a thug threatening your car or local business.*

*My many rewatchings of this movie as a child have finally taught me something valuable!

G20 as explained by animals -OR- Why I Never Became a Journalist

2010-06-26T23:25:00.008-05:00

It's true I have a bachelor of journalism degree from Ryerson University. It is also true that I did not want to become a hardcore journalist.

While I was mildly curious about what was going on downtown this weekend, I was also not willing to risk life or limb to actually find out. I've read enough Twitter and Facebook updates, though, to get a sense of the malaise of Torontonians, the sadness and anger and rage coursing through residents and protesters alike.

So to cut through the bitterness on both sides, I present you the G20 protests as I believed they happened, reenacted by cute animals. (No animals were harmed in the making of these pictures. Sadly, I can't say the same for the people involved on either side of the protests.)

1. The perceived problem among some anarchists and anti-capitalist protesters:

2 a) and b): The natural conflict between haves and have nots:

3. How to protest:

4. Why things sometimes get out of hand...

5 a) thru c). Results of provocation:

6. What residents of hosting cities of G20 are all thinking:

All photos are from Cuteoverload.com.

Wedding Post Mortem

2010-06-19T13:03:00.006-05:00

Now that the photographer's abridged gallery is up, I am starting to recall some of the day now. Check it out here.

Here's a rundown of some of the stuff I remember:

John and I stayed over at the Westin Harbour Castle hotel the night before the wedding and the night of the wedding. I had terrible heartburn the night before the wedding--it wasn't jitters, really. The concierge sent me up a glass of soda water served by a guy who looked and sounded exactly like Mr. Sulu from Star Trek (Takei, not Cho). I got Zantac to help me from Aunt Ellen. (Thanks Ellen! Sorry to wake you!)

We woke up around 8 a.m. The hairstylist and makeup artist came at 8:30 and did my bridesmaids first while we ordered room service breakfast and watched TV. It was the first time in months that John and I had cable. John stuck around for much of the morning until just a little after Mike the photographer arrived.
Mike managed to coax two kinds of smiles out of me: the big toothy smile, and the half-smile, or "Family Guy" smile. (We'd been watching an episode and it made me smirk.) So any picture you see with my lips pressed together, it's because I'm singing "My Black Son" to myself.
I didn't know about the Stormtroopers. Fiona bought costumes and got two friends to wear them. They had them on in the taxi on the way over, and continued to wear them--helmet and all--after the ceremony, to the bar, while they walked along the Harbourfront, while relaxing on a restaurant patio, and at the reception. They enjoyed themselves immensely.
Our officiant, Mary Jung Scott, told us she'd been practicing her Vulcan Live Long and Prosper hand sign. She couldn't quite make it there, but close enough. And considering everyone was laughing at the "By the Power of Grayskull", I wasn't sure anyone noticed. By the way, the complete last part of the ceremoney was supposed to go: "Therefore, by the authority vested in me by the Province of Ontario and the Marriage Act, and by the Power of Grayskull, it is my honour and delight to pronounce you legally married. Live long and prosper, May the Force be with you, so say we all."
We lost the marriage certificate somewhere between the ceremony and the reception. The only proof I have of it is the pictures of me signing and holding it. It was last slipped into a big manila envelope. Has anyone seen it?
We spent the next couple of hours taking shots along the lakeshore. The weather really couldn't have been nicer. Mike did a terrific job (on the photos, not on controlling the weather.)
At the restaurant, Pearl Restaurant manager Jeffrey Mak greeted me with a plate of noodles. Waiters were on me every minute handing me drinks, taking my empties, giving me napkins, etc. Best. Service. Ever.
I managed to eat about 2/3 of each plate of food--I soon discovered that my body had little room to expand within the confines of my dress. About halfway through the night, I Hulked Out and popped the clasp on my dress. It went flying off to parts unknown.
Still can't find my WALL-E and EVE cake toppers anywhere. I'd like to think they upped and eloped while no one was looking. On the upside, the Rice Krispie cake was phenomenal and delicious, courtesy of Jenn Woo at Box of Sweets. It was a good thing we had the electric turkey cutter. It worked like a charm.
My parents closed the store on my wedding day. I didn't know that until John and I were on our way to the honeymoon. Considering my parents only ever close on Christmas and New Year's, this gesture meant the world to me. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for absolutely everything. The wedding marked the first time I ever told them I loved them. Ever.
We were the last to leave, along with most of John's friends, at around 12:45 a.m. I hear the after party went on until 6:00 a.m. John and I wisely retired to our hotel room.

By the numbers:

19: Number of tables.

174: Number of guests

35: Floor we stayed on at the Westin, just one below penthouse.

120: Bottles of wine made for the occasion.

9: Cases of beer left over at the end of the night.

$305: Price of my wedding gown, courtesy of Bridal Image in Mississauga.

$40: Price of my Chinese jacket, courtesy of Pacific Mall

$70: Price of my shoes, courtesy of Nine West Outlets.

$1: Price of my "pearl" necklace, courtesy of Dollarama.

It's just hair...it'll grow back...

2010-06-08T18:52:00.005-05:00

So after more than 3 years growing, I've finally made the leap and sliced off my hair to donate to children's cancer wigs. That's 13 inches of braided hairy goodness, my friends.

I was inspired by fellow blogger Heather after she sheared her lovely locks--something she does on a regular basis for this cause. And I thought, hey, I have hair, and someone needs it--why not? So over the next two and a half years, I let my hair go, enduring an entire summer of awkward hair hidden beneath kerchiefs.

It seemed safe to do it right after the wedding. Summer was coming, I'd be free of my drain-clogging, face-eating follicles, cut my shampoo usage by 90%, and, as an added bonus, the excess clippings will be sent to the Gulf of Mexico to help with the oil spill clean up efforts.

I thought it would be freeing, life-changing. I thought I'd look good. My requirements for a haircut were simple: easy to take care of, short, and make sure I don't look like a boy.

Now, when I say I don't want to look like a boy, that description includes Justin Bieber.

Lots of people in the salon assured me it looked good and commended me for being so brave. I thought that was weird statement--it's hair, I had it, someone wanted it....here, have my hair. Nothing really brave about that, unless you shave your head. (No, I will not shave my head.)

I'm sure it's just shock settling in. As soon as I style it the way I'm used to, it'll look pretty much the way it always does--like I just rolled out of bed.

Okay. Well, it's just hair. It'll grow back. (Hope you enjoy this, anonymous bald kid.)

Let's count blessings, then, shall we?

I've managed to make some poor bald kid out there happy.
I'm saving the world. The stylist cut off enough hair to save at least five rare birds...or one cute seal.
I won't have to comb my hair for a few months. It's that short and that thin.
It's just hair. It'll grow back.
Hats fit now.
I can dress up as an Asian version of Justin Bieber for Halloween. Or maybe an Asian version of Starbuck.
If I get into a catfight, my opponent won't have anything to grab on to.
It's just hair. It'll grow back.

On the topic of the Gulf oil spill, I encourage everyone to get their local salons to gather hair clippings and separate them from the garbage to help with the oil spill efforts. I got mine done at Concepts Day Spa and Salon at Cumberland Terrace. Get your hair cut and save the sea!

Quickie reviews!

2010-06-07T21:07:00.008-05:00

The Dead Travel Fast by Deanna Raybourn

Like Raybourn's Silent in the Grave, Silent in the Sanctuary and Silent on the Moor, TDTF features strong and interesting characters, a likable heroine, an intense, mysterious and brooding hero, and an irresistible Victorian setting with a deliciously Gothic flavor. This book reminds us all of the origins of the current vampire craze and the chill it should bring...without sparkles. If you enjoyed Raybourn's other works, you're sure to like this one.

Storm Glass by Maria V. Snyder

The first in a new YA trilogy set in Snyder's fantasy world of Sitia, Storm Glass follows the trials and tribulations of Opal, a glass-making magician whose hang ups about being a "one hit wonder" are almost as destructive and thwarting as the bad guys she keeps clashing with. I found it hard to read this book without comparing it to the award-winning Poison Study, Snyder's first work in the worlds of Sitia and Ixia. Though it took me a while to get to like Opal (I couldn't put my finger on why until a character actually pointed her flaws out) the plot carried me along, driving me from location to location in the company of a few interesting fellows. A light but meaty read for lovers of YA fantasy.

Ponyo (film) by Hayao Miyazaki

The latest offering from one of my favorite artists and animators is true to Miyazaki's spirit of innocence. It goes back to Studio Ghibli's tradition of blending mundane suburban/rural Japanese life with childhood fantasy. Similar to My Neighbor Totoro, we follow the adventures of a five-year-old boy named Sasuke and his enduring innocent love for a magical goldfish, Ponyo, who escapes from her magician father to live among humans. While it is loosely based on the Little Mermaid tale, this film is infinitely more child-friendly. Adults won't be treated to the visual and dramatic treat that Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away were--in fact, the animation and art seems to have been deliberately toned down with more primary colors and smoother textures. But if you can allow yourself to remember what it was like to be a kid with dreams, to accept reality for the grand adventure it can be, then Ponyo won't disappoint.

The Happiest Blur of My Life

2010-06-06T21:32:00.003-05:00

I think this photo pretty much sums up my wedding day.

No, I did not know they were coming. My sister and MC arranged to have these guys here. Suffice to say, we had a blast(er at our side).

Honeymoon was great. Relaxing. Slept +10 hours every day. Wish I could have stayed out there. It was so peaceful.

Thanks to everyone there for making it a fun and special time. When I've gathered my wits about me, I'm sure I'll be able to recall more details.

Oh My Goddess!

2010-05-13T21:52:00.003-05:00

While I don't ascribe myself to any particular religion, I grew up observing the superstitions and cultural traditions surrounding Daoism and Buddhism, to a lesser degree.

Our family didn't go to temple or burn incense to honor our ancestors or patron deities, except on very rare special occasions. We didn't observe a strict vegetarian diet. But we did have a few figures in our household--laughing Buddha, those three guys that represent prosperity, war and...er...something....(Larry, Curly and Moe?) And, of course, the gender-bending Guan Yin.

I have a particular fondness for Guan Yin, the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy. Our family owns one of the most beautiful ceramic statues of her I have ever seen--one that I've yet to see reproduced anywhere in the world.

Now that I own my own house, I felt it was time to bring my own Kuan Yin home to act as a kind of patron and reminder of my cultural roots.

I found this resin reproduction at a store in Fairview Mall, of all places. I've rarely seen her in this state of repose--usually she is standing or sitting with her hand in that Ohm position (forgive my ignorance on the Buddhist term for it), holding a little bottle. I was captivated by her serenity and the way she seemed to be getting ready to rise and take action.

At the lovely discounted price of $30, I couldn't say no. Now my office is a sanctuary.

Power Up!

2010-05-12T20:05:00.002-05:00

Haim Saban buys back the Might Morphin Power Rangers in the hopes of revamping the franchise.

Do I smell a reboot in the works? One can only hope...well, not really. But one of the crappiest shows of my childhood deserves a second look and a facelift.

So here are my wishes for a new Power Rangers series:

1. Bring Tommy the Green Ranger back. Jason David Frank has not only aged nicely (haawwwt, even if he does have his kid's baby photo tattooed to his chest), but he's now taking on professional MMA fighting. Adult Tommy could bring a whole new martial arts dynamic into the kids' show, and a dark side element that they just didn't delve deep enough into. (Wasn't he a bad guy to start with? Was he like Smurfette, and made to do evil but was then turned to good?)

2. DESTROY ALPHA. I hated this robot with a fiery passion. I'd much rather he be replaced by an iPhone. They do about the same thing, except you can shut an iPhone off. Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi!

3. Replace floating head Zordon with a hunk of sculpted Cheez Whiz. He was about as useful and informative as imitation processed cheese spread anyhow.

4. If there have to be Pink and Yellow Rangers, make them both guys. Because it takes a real man to wear pink. And I want a woman in the Red Ranger role, dammit.

Things we absolutely must keep from the original series:

1. Rubber suits. Because nothing beats awkward battles between monsters and robots in tiny foam towns.

2. Rita Repulsa: She was awesome, and strangely compelling to watch. For some reason, I really enjoyed her horribly dubbed scenes and ill-times lip-synchs. Also, Lady Gaga could get fashion tips from her.

3. Those awesome wrist communicators. Because they're still way ahead of us on that technology...plus, we wouldn't want to accidentally slip Alpha Ai-yi-yiPhone into our back pockets.

New layout...?

2010-05-10T21:19:00.001-05:00

Gonna play with new layouts and the like for a while until I get something I like, but for now, enjoy this cobbled-together display.

You've Got Mail

2010-05-06T22:33:00.004-05:00

When John and I bought our home, the address was suspicious to us. Without telling the Interwebs exactly where we live, suffice to say it sounds like a fake address.

As such, we've been receiving a crapload of fake mail. Residents at our house apparently include:

Bonita Chiquita (can't remember what she got, but it was pretty hilarious)

Bily Joe, who gets a bi-monthly LEGO magazine (which I thoroughly enjoy reading)

Julia Childs, who is getting a request for renewal (or some such) from Money Sense magazine

There've been assorted other pieces of junk mailings--cruise magazines, one-off mailings, etc.-- addressed to people who don't live here, and who probably never have. I suspect this anyhow: the previous owner lived her for 44 years before passing on, and the place doesn't look like it ever had tenants. It was way too clean when we got in.

More mail to fake people to come, I'm sure. I look forward to the next issue of LEGO magazine.

Mega post

2010-05-05T21:25:00.005-05:00

1. Belated Happy Luke Skywalker Day! May the Fourth Be With You!

2. Running toilet=Repairs=Not quite repaired=Water everywhere, leaking through the floor and into the kitchen through the ceiling=Repairs v.2=Fixed. Thanks, Dad. You're the best!

3. Got a bike! Haven't had a chance to ride it yet, but I'm excited to! Came with a free helmet, plus the added incentive of looming HST, plus it was on sale. Couldn't resist.

4. Breaking in wedding shoes at work. Not knowing how to walk in heels, I've gotten advice that's all over the map, from "suck in your gut, stick your chest out and pull your shoulders back" to "pretend you're wearing antlers" to "walk toe first." I tried to do all these things. And now I've forgotten how to walk like a normal person.

5. Twenty-four days left before I lurch down the aisle. Halp.

6. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. I would like to be there now pleaze ok thx bye.

7. Also, this:

SQUEE in 3D

2010-04-25T21:50:00.000-05:00

FALSE.

2010-04-25T21:32:00.005-05:00

A friend sent me this email, asking me if any of it was true:

"LET ME SEE IF I GOT THIS RIGHT!

IF YOU CROSS THE NORTH KOREAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU GET 12 YEARS HARD LABOR.

IF YOU CROSS THE IRANIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU ARE DETAINED INDEFINITELY.

IF YOU CROSS THE AFGHAN BORDER ILLEGALLY,
YOU GET SHOT.

IF YOU CROSS THE SAUDI ARABIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU WILL BE JAILED.

IF YOU CROSS THE CHINESE BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU MAY NEVER BE HEARD FROM AGAIN.

IF YOU CROSS THE VENEZUELAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU WILL BE BRANDED A SPY AND YOUR FATE WILL BE SEALED.

IF YOU CROSS THE CUBAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU WILL BE THROWN INTO POLITICAL PRISON TO ROT.

IF YOU CROSS THE CANADIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU GET ...

A JOB,
A DRIVERS LICENSE,
SOCIAL INSURANCE CARD,
WELFARE,
FOOD STAMPS,
CREDIT CARDS,
SUBSIDIZED RENT OR A LOAN TO BUY A HOUSE,
FREE EDUCATION,
FREE HEALTH CARE,
A LOBBYIST IN OTTAWA
BILLIONS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF PUBLIC DOCUMENTS PRINTED IN YOUR LANGUAGE
THE RIGHT TO CARRY YOUR COUNTRY'S FLAG WHILE YOU PROTEST THAT YOU
DON'T GET ENOUGH RESPECT

AND, IN MANY INSTANCES, YOU CAN VOTE.

I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE I HAD A FIRM GRASP ON THE SITUATION.

In a fit of suppressed rage, I answered (sadly, I do not have Dymaxion World's eloquence, but I'm trying here):

No, this is not true.

Reading between the lines, this is really just an anti-immigration (and racist) propaganda meme that some right-wing nut job probably put together. There's an American version of this "joke" here:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/jokes/read/80879617/

It's ridiculous that they're comparing the U.S. and Canada to any of these developing, corrupted, or war-torn nations. Is the author of this joke suggesting we brings ourselves to the level of Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, China, and North Korea when it comes to protecting our borders?

What we really need to think about is how fortunate North America is that it will accept people who need help.

Immigration laws are very strict in both the U.S. and Canada and are based on case by case bases. Every month you hear some tragic stories of families being torn apart when a parent is deported even when they've lived in Canada for decades. Of course, on the flip side, there are people who slip through the system, who've taken advantage of the opportunities presented to them and abuse the things they've been given.

That does not give us license to paint ALL immigrants with the same brush.

We worry about our national security, we worry about the economy, we worry that tax dollars aren't being invested to benefit "real" citizens. All of these are valid concerns. But gut reactions to inflammatory messages that spread resentment and hate will not solve these problems.

Being prejudiced against the next wave of immigrants, of people who can't speak our language, of a new neighbor who smells funny and eats weird food doesn't make us righteous: it makes us hypocritical douchebags. Once upon a time, it's pretty likely YOUR people weren't welcome here. Seriously. Go ask grandpa.

Do NOT pass this meme on. Instead, tell people that both Canada and the U.S. are countries populated entirely by immigrants starting with the first pilgrims off the Mayflower; that our collective identity is made richer with new voices and new faces; and that the investment we put into new generations will be returned to us ten-fold.

To quote from the Bible (no, I'm not Christian, but I can read the Word via Google search whenever I have a "I'm pretty sure the Bible didn't say that" moment):

http://www.openbible.info/topics/immigration

Leviticus 19:33-34
“When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.

Matthew 25:35
For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,

Exodus 22:21
“You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.

http://preachersfiles.com/helping-others-a-biblical-principle/

“But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men” (Luke 6:35 – ESV).

“And let us not be weary in well doing; for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith.”

A companion scripture to the above passage would be Proverbs 3:27: “Withold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.” We are not to refuse exhibiting mercy and kindness to others when it is in our power to do it. The extent of God’s mercy and kindness toward us will be dependent upon our extending mercy and kindness toward others (James 2:13; cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:15).

In Acts 10:38 we read, “How God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power: who went about doing good….” Jesus went about doing good to others; as His servants, we must follow His example (1 John 2:6). In Romans 12:18-21 (cf. Prov. 25:21-22), we learn that acts of kindness and benevolence can change people’s hearts. Our demonstration of love toward people might result in their obedience to the gospel of Christ. The “coals” referred to in Romans 12:20, are pains of shame which kind treatment will produce. We have an Old Testament example in 1 Samuel 24:16-19.

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous...

2010-04-22T21:18:00.004-05:00

Now I don't know which version makes me laugh/shudder more. This one or this one:

Golden Heart scores

2010-04-19T09:02:00.002-05:00

Here are the scores for the Golden Heart 2010.

I'd entered Fighting for Her Love pre-second-round edits (after my interview with Victoria Curran). Can't help but wonder how it would score now.

I finished in the second quarter. Yay?

Updates!

2010-04-16T10:01:00.004-05:00

Random post!

1. On me and sickness:
MRI's scheduled for July 26th at 10 p.m. Don't know why I have to go in so late, but whatever. Haven't had another episode of hearing loss since, but I did have a BPV moment the other day when I turned over in bed. Not a happy moment.

Thanks to Kainnon for emailing me a textbook about inner ear infections and disorders. Educational and terrifying!

2. Nuptials:
Wedding's in 43 days. I'm trying not to think about the stuff that still needs to be done. We'll get to it eventually, I'm sure. RSVPs sure would be welcome...

3. The Cat:
I think Smartikus is getting less and less graceful by the day. In fact, I think he's turning into a dog. He came bounding toward me when I got home in a perfect imitation of my family dog, Yoshi. He was also very sedate and let the niece and nephew bury their faces in his fur in exchange for a bite of croissant. We've caught him failing at cat grace a number of times, too. He's fallen off the table and counter a few times when trying to jump up. Maybe he has cat BPV?

4. The fiance:
For those of you who haven't read his stuff yet, John's now blogging freelance for Toronto Life. Check him out at http://www.torontolife.com/daily/author/jmcgrath/

5. Writing:
Computer has finally cacked out on me, so I've been making do with John's desktop and my Eee until I can get a whole new system built. I haven't been able to get a good chunk of writing done, despite the whittling to my YA WIP. And now the plot bunnies are attacking. Very frustrating.

6. The House:
Been working on the gardens, and now have a nice clean front yard with the last vestiges of crosuses and irises, along with whatever the previous owner was growing. I'm also prepping the backyard and starting seeds for tomatoes, cucumbers, basil, cilantro, dill and parsley. So either I'll have fantastic salad by the end of summer, or one big compost heap.

That is all for now.

Not a tumor?

2010-03-25T20:59:00.003-05:00

Went to see the ENT. He said I don't have Labyrinthitis.

But he worried it was Menieres Disease.

Next day: Hearing test results were normal, so he's ruling Menieres out. *phew*

But an MRI will be scheduled to see if anything else is happening.

It better not happen on my wedding day. HELL no.

How to terrify a bride a little more than two months before the wedding

2010-03-22T16:35:00.002-05:00

At the hospital for my out-patient appointment with the ear/nose/throat specialist at Toronto East General Hospital, 1 week after my trip to the E.R.:

ENT: We need to send you in for a hearing test and an MRI scan. Hearing test tomorrow, then you come and see me, then we'll schedule the MRI. The fact that you had benign positional vertigo before and now this is a little...weird.

Me: But...when?

ENT: Maybe May 9th. Depends on what we find.

Me: (doing quick calculations in my head: if they find something, and they have to do anything serious, can I still go on my honeymoon?) Um...okay?

With that, I was ushered out of the tiny ENT office which, I swear, was the size of a long walk-in closet. They scheduled my appointment for 1:35 p.m., but I was waiting for nearly an hour and a half. On top of that, I was swept into the ENT room while another patient was there, getting her results. I could hear (yes, I can hear!) everything the doctor was telling her. Isn't there supposed to be some kind of doctor/patient confidentiality thing? I didn't need to hear all that.

I hate being not sick, but broken nonetheless. I just hope it's nothing more serious...because I don't care what's wrong, I'm having my wedding!

Inflamation of the...er...weird 80's cult movie?

2010-03-18T20:10:00.004-05:00

Went to the E.R. last Sunday with a case of vertigo so bad I couldn't move from my bed. After three hours of trying not to throw up, I called Telehealth Ontario and went to East York General on their (and John's) insistence.

The doctor's diagnosis: Labyrinthitis.

It really did feel exactly like this:

Or, if you prefer:

"It's not a condition we really understand," the doctor told me. "And it's something that's really hard to live with." So all I got out of it was an appointment to see a ear/nose/throat specialist and a prescription for some anti-nausea meds.

Obviously, the way to cure Labyrithitis is with the power of voodoo...do what? Remind me the babe!

Altered States

2010-03-10T17:09:00.003-06:00

As my inner ear problem continues sporadically, with days when I feel perfectly fine and days when I'm deaf in my right ear, I've occasionally followed doctor's orders to take a decongestant, which is supposed to help relieve the stuffed up feeling. So far, the only thing the medication has helped with is keeping my already sparkling-clean nasal passages clear (and running) and giving me a twitchy boost of anxious energy.

After a full day of feeling my heart race and trying hard not to jump up and go for a jog through my office, I found myself meandering around after work, hoping to work off some of this restlessness. In reality, I'm quite worn out due to some sleepless nights...probably because of the stupid drugs.

I just realized why I'm in such a miserably anxious state. Apparently, pseudoephedrine is used to produce meth.

Great. Just great. Unfortunately, Sudafed PE nearly made me puke, and I will not abide breaking my 24-year no barf streak.

So here I am, blogging, a plate of reheated homemade Mac and Cheese in front of me with some questionable kolbassa (I really need to stop eating rotting food), and the contents of my makeup drawers scattered over my desk.

That's right, I went from meth to makeup. Nice segue, huh?

Because the wedding is coming up, I'm shelling out to get a professional to do my face and hair because, let's face it, if I did it myself, I'd end up looking like a clown. Or Courtney Love.

We've never really been a makeup family: mom didn't teach me how to apply lipstick, and big sister wasn't much into face paint, either. What I have dabbled in has been almost exclusively in the lip department, with some moderate to hideous success. I'm sure some of my friends have questioned my preference for deep, blood-red lips against my pale, silver be-glittered skin. (Edward Cullen stole that look from me, the little bitch.)

Looking at the pile I've accumulated, two things strike me: 1) I really have no idea where most of this stuff came from, and 2) I think most of it is older than granite.

So, for your enjoyment, and because I'm hopped up on drugs (don't do drugs!), here's a catalogue of all the stuff I'm about to toss:

Lips

Red Earth lip gloss, wine red
I bought this in Hong Kong in 2000. It still smells like vanilla, but tastes like rubber. It was my fave for a while, but it never really went with anything I wore, for reasons I can't fathom.

Avon Brilliant Moisture lip colour, Moonstone 3014
I have no idea how this got into my drawer. Maybe I ordered it from a friend? It looks like a colour I might have chosen, but it smells like plasticine and has the consistency of it, too. I think it's probably about 10 years old. Maybe older? Who knows...

Lancome Paris Juicy Tubes Pop ultra shiny cooling lip gloss, frozen punch
I got this from a friend as a stocking stuffer for Christmas...oh, maybe 7 years ago? Giving it a test squeeze, the liquid came out clear--the colour and the chemical have apparently separated out. Eew.

Two Life brand sport lip balms, SPF 15
I bought these by mistake, thinking they were regular lip balms on sale. I used it for a whole day before looking in the mirror and realizing I had thick white goo slathered all over my lips. I looked like I'd been kissing a wedding cake. No wonder everyone was looking at me weird. Still, might be handy for the upcoming summer. Can't say I've ever experienced sunburnt lips. Don't really want to, either.

Avon lipstick, Apricot
I remember buying this sometime in high school. A friend of my sister's was an Avon lady. I just liked the tube because it's all hologramy and shiny. The colour makes me look like I have radioactive lips. It tastes like one of those old picture books you open up at the library and wonder whether a hobo has been reading them.

The Body Shop Colourings lipstick, 48 (White)
This came from my first makeover, when I turned 18 and my big sis took me out to lunch and then Yorkdale Mall. It went over another colour to make my matte lips look shiny. It's still kinda nice...but it's more than 12 years old now. I'm shocked it's not cheese yet. *toss*

The Body Shop Colourings lip liner, 01 (beech) and 07 (mahogany)
Ditto above. They were sold to me as versatile colours to be used on my lips and my eyes as liner. Thinking about it now, that doesn't seem very sanitary. Still, these pencils have served me quite well. But I wonder how many new life forms have sprouted on the tips?

Princess Marcella Borghese Lumina lipstick, Rusticana 38
Another mystery lipstick. I think it showed up a little more than 5 years ago. What kinda freaks me out about it, apart from the fact that I have no idea how it ended up in my hands, is that it also looks well-used. I don't have any recollection of ever using this lipstick, even though the way the tube looks neat.

Revlon Moisturestay Lipcolor, 21 (pink)
I might have bought this. Maybe even within the last 5 years. It looks brand spanking new, never used...but it's dried out like an old crayon. Moisturestay my ass.

Tinkerbell lip balm
I wrote about this before. I have to throw it out--the smell is making me nauseous.

Eyes

Stila Cosmetics Stila Look #2
This was a cute little set of eye shadows and lip colour given to me by John's stepmother maybe 8 or 9 years ago. I was never much for eye makeup, though I will soon be making that attempt--I'm a little tired of looking like a mole person with teeny tiny eyes against my big, white face.

The Body Shop Sparticles, 01 Supernova
Another purchase on my 18th birthday. I really like this stuff at the time because it's a tiny jar of little beads. They're fun to squish between your fingers. Not so easy to apply, though: I don't really have any brushes, so I just used my fingers. Not really convenient, either.

Red Earth eye shadow compact, PK001
A three-colour set from my Hong Kong trip in 2000. Pretty basic neutral earth tones. Still "usable," as far as I can tell.

Avon True Colour eye shadow, Purple Rose
The 80's are calling and they want their eye shadow back. All I can think as I look at this colour is, OH MY GOD, WHO WOULD HAVE BOUGHT THIS? Moreover, why would they leave it in my makeup drawer? It's really, REALLY dark purple. I mean, like a velvet jumpsuit made for Austin Powers purple. *toss*

Lancome Colour Focus, Silver Screen Exhibition
Another stocking stuffer, I think. And it's maybe 3 or 4 years old. Wore it at a wedding I went to last year. I applied it while in a moving car with my finger. I'm not sure that was the best idea. Also, the woman I was sitting beside at the wedding was a cosmetician: I think she was freaked out by the application. Or the colours. Or maybe it was just me in general. I'm going to go with door number 3.

Rimmel London Waterproof Volume Flash Instant Thickening Mascara, black
I don't know what possessed me to buy this. I remember I'd wanted to experiment with thicker lashes--mine are short, straight, and point downward. I poked myself in the eye on first application. That stuff really does thicken instantly. I was washing it off for hours afterwards. You know those freaky Japanese horror movies where spooky little kids bleed black tears? Yeah, that was me.

Faces Eye liner Pencil, charcoal 011
I bought this maybe in grade 8. The texture lives up to the colour name. Into the bin it goes!

Professionals eye liner, royal blue
Another mystery. It probably came in with the Purple Rose eye shadow. I have no idea how old it is. *toss*

Face

The Body Show Facial Blotting Tissues, Rose and White
This was all the rage in high school; absorbing oil, reducing shine and being all sanitary because you just had to throw out the rice paper wad afterwards instead of using a matted old pad. The problem was, and continues to be, that I am neither white- nor rose-coloured. The colour always stood out. I look like I'd been working with pastel-coloured drywall at some freakish construction site for Sephora City. Still, lots of fun to see all the oil on your face.

Club Monaco Cosmetics Wet Dry Makeup, Warm 2
No idea how this came to me. It's not even my colour. But it's brand-new...if +5 years old counts as brand-new.

Body

Quo Lust Dust, Mesmorize
This body glitter comes in it's own retractable brush. I got it back when the Eaton Centre still had a movie theatre. Apart from the awesome name, it just makes me happy. *keep*

Red Earth body makeup glitter, silver
I imagine Red Earth kidnapped a bunch of vampires and ground them down to make this stuff. It might be better used for an art project than as makeup. I wonder how much poisonous metal is in it?

Nails

Club Monaco nail colour, Froth
Subtle, pearly iridescent white was my thing back in high school. It was a lot easier to hide mistakes that way. Would you believe I hadn't ever thought of having someone else do my nails for me? *toss*

Cat-topped shiny white nail polish
This might have come from that Avon friend of my sister's. It reeks like a mofo. *gag toss gag*

Le Chateau nail polish, sparkly electric blue
I bought this for $2. I mostly used it to touch up the chips on my electric guitar.

GAP Colour nail polish, dark red...?
A tiny bottle, a nice colour...I'll leave this out at work for someone to take home...and possibly get poisoned. (Must be at least 9 years old.)

Wet 'n' Wild nail color, 441B Sahara, and 412 Burgundy Frost
Another giveaway. I think I bought these to go with a dress I was wearing for a wedding.

Revlon nail enamel, 721 Raven Red
A gift from a friend. And since when were ravens red? *keep*

Well, there you have it. I've reduced my makeup collection to a mere quarter of its original size. And I seem to have stultified my restlessness into silence. Now all I have to do is figure out how to actually, you know, put makeup on.

Sephora, I'm looking at you to gimme some freebies here...

Do. Not. Want.

2010-03-01T12:44:00.003-06:00

Her Cinderella Secret has been rejected once again.

*sigh*

Back to ye ol' drawing board...

Cross-posted from Victory's March.

Playing blogging catchup

2010-02-28T20:40:00.006-06:00

I've been seriously neglecting my blog due to a few things. Time's been short, but also, I've been having some weird inner ear congestion thing that makes me dizzy and unable to hear out of the right side. Doc says to take a decongestant, but the meds make me even more dizzy and nauseated, so it's hard to sit still at my desk a lot.

Quips for the past couple of weeks:

The Olympics: I'm adopting the phrased "Pwn the Odium" (TM) after spending two weeks reading and listening to international and domestic sniping about how Vancouver has been "The Worst Olympics Ever." Frankly, I'm sure there have been worse...you know, like the ones where people got blown up by terrorist bombs. And part of me wonders if the international sports media is just complaining because Canadians are easy targets--like the quiet nerdy kid who likes to read in the library at lunch, but who plays a mean stickball at recess. In any case, Canada pulled through on their sports of choice--hockey and curling--and reaped a record number of goals. We didn't "Own the Podium" but, like good Canadians, we're satisfied to have played and placed. The important thing is we had fun!

The Wedding: 90 days left. Trying not to hyperventilate. All I ask is that we're married and no bloodshed has ensued by the end of the night....

Smartikus: I think he might fail at cat. John and I both witnessed our poor kitty attempt to leap from the counter to the table, but he missed and performed a loud and spectacular face-plant on the ground, all paws outstretched. And then, while playing fetch, he bolted straight into a footstool. Both times, he recovered and pretended it hadn't happened.

And now, some links:

Videos from my bachelorette:

And, because I need to cross-post more, this, from Vicki Heat's blog:

Smell like the man your man should be

Getting Medieval on my ass...

2010-02-21T15:18:00.008-06:00

The bachelorette was yesterday. Fun times!

No, there were no strippers, no copious amounts of booze or titillating games of "I Never." Instead, my ladies took me to Body Blitz Spa, where I was soaked, steamed and massaged into a stupor, and then I was marched along Queen Street where I was forced to collect signatures of random people, and then...off to Medieval Times!

I'd never been to the dinner and tournament, but it had occurred to me earlier that it would make the perfect venue for a party. I mean, who doesn't like jousting and roast chicken and hot guys on horses, waving their swords around? I'll take that over a strip club any day!

Lucky for me the girls knew me so well and had planned out the night with chivalry and debauchery in mind together.

I don't know what it is: There's just something about a knight in shining armor riding a horse and calling you "my lady" that gets my chastity belt in a twist. Of course, it probably helped that my girls had me dressed up in a full princess costume with a wedding veil...and any number of bachelorettish anachronisms, like the flashing button that says "Kiss the Bride to Be." Can't pass up any chance at humiliation, of course.

On that note, I was made a lady of the realm (knighted) and was forced to hand out a medal to the hottest guy in the building at the end of the event. It turned out to be the green knight, champion for our section, bad guy of the realm, but best damned knight out there. He seemed to accept the accolade with good cheer despite obvious exhaustion. It might have gone to Ken the barkeep, who m'ladied the pants off my sister, but then we heard him speak without the affected English accent and then that all went away.

The food was fine for what it was--tomato bisque and garlic bread, half a roast chicken, a rib, a baked potato skin, an apple pie-ish dessert, and coffee/tea and Pepsi. I had terrible heartburn later that night, and the lack of anything green really did make it a kind of oggy meal. But you'll eat anything when you're being entertained with violence and horses.

As a spectacle, Medieval Times was a terrific venue for anyone willing to accept it with a fine helping of salt and good cheer. Truly, it was a craptacularly romantic time.

Thank you, ladies, for fulfilling my medieval fantasy!

W00t!

2010-02-21T15:12:00.003-06:00

Nominated for another Dotmoon UFO fanfiction award, this time for my last Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic In the Family Way.

Nice to know people are reading and going through all the hassle of nominating me. If only my original fiction were as appreciated...

More SQUEEEEE than I can shake a fist at

2010-02-11T20:50:00.002-06:00

New Last Airbender trailer--need I squee more?

February BLEAACCCHHHGGGHHHRRR...

2010-02-09T15:31:00.003-06:00

It's that time of winter when all the world seems to be the same shade of sickly brown and grey; it's right around now that I find myself yearning for sunshine and flowers and clothes that aren't black, brown, grey, or any other shade of whatever's going on on the slushy ground outside.

Hench, the crazy pastel colour scheme. It'll keep me from slitting my wrists just to see a little colour until springtime...

You'll just have to put up with the ugliness until I get around to redesigning the blog. You should thank me: The blood dripping from your eyes will colour your world!

Avatarddendum lil' squee

2010-02-04T21:54:00.002-06:00

Ganxingba's latest Avatar: The Abridged Series. Makes me snortgiggle every time.

Also, T-shirts of even greater Avatarded obscurity now available. This is why I love the Internets.

LAST AIRBENDER SQUEEEEE

2010-02-04T19:14:00.005-06:00

I peed my pants all day after I watched this.

I really, really, REALLY don't want to get my hopes up...preliminary reports of the rough screen test are mixed. But the simple fact that Shyamalan actually took a frame straight out of the cartoon to use in the movie gives me hope. (See 0:08.)

Also, check out the awesome shots of Aang, Zuko, Sokka/Katara, and Suki at the official web site.

No, they actors are not Asian...but I'll give them a pass for now....

Considering the slew of movies based on young adult books and TV shows that have been coming out (e.g. Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thieves, etc.) I imagine The Last Airbender will get lost among the other offerings.

But I'm still going to watch it.

Now ask me how many times I watched the trailer today...(about eight times.)

POST 600! --OR-- I suck at blogging

2010-02-01T19:51:00.003-06:00

Man, life is getting in the way of living.

Had the housewarming this past weekend, finally. In excess of 60 people, lots of babies, too much food and wine. Fun times had by all (I hope!). Thanks to everyone who came out!
Wedding plans are on. The officiant's booked, so even if everything else falls apart (OH GOD, WHY DID I JUST JINX IT???) we'll still be able to get married. And that's all that matters.
Writing is a-go. Young adult fantasy novel moving along at a regular clip, but I'm not satisfied by where it's going. Must pause to reevaluate.
Smartikus remains the best cat ever.
John is cooking. I mean really cooking. Really good food, too. Better than what I can make. And he's reading cooking books. I'm worried I can't wow him with Spam noodles anymore...
Work continues to be awesome.
This continues to bother me 2 days after I watched it. Why won't it leave my brain?

Do. Not. Want.

2010-01-13T09:07:00.002-06:00

*Sigh.*

My MMA romance novel got rejected by Harlequin Superromance. Not because of the quality of writing, but because of the lack of a more solid romantic conflict.

Go read the post-mortem on Victory Essex's blog--I got to interview senior editor Victoria Curran about it, and what came out of the hour-long talk was very enlightening.

Best. Video. EVER.

2010-01-08T22:07:00.001-06:00

Thanks to lil' sis Jenny for sending me this link. I nearly peed my pants.

Looking back...

2009-12-31T14:32:00.002-06:00

I posted this on the first of the year, and it seems appropriate to comment on how things went in 2009:

Starting a fresh day book and calendar: the old ones were getting ratty--they were, like, a year old!--Okay, this still holds true at the end of every year. What can I say, I'm a sucker for calendars.
A hot new president who will change the world (politics is fun again!)--Obama is on the road to implementing Universal Health Care, won a Nobel Peace Prize (whether you think he deserves it or not), and has done assorted other good things. No complaints from me so far.
Being a bridesmaid in one of my longest standing friends' wedding (I'm struggling with the proper term, because it's not oldest friend, and long-time friend sounds weird. Anyone? Help?)--Er...yeah...that didn't happen...
The bachelorette party associated with said nuptial (very possibly to Las Vegas)--This did happen. Good times.
Watching as more of my friends from high school try for and grow big with children (and subsequently pointing and laughing, then consoling the tears and recriminations...)--Two more on the way!
John finishing his masters of journalism (and school forever...?)--DONE AND DONE. THANK GOD.
Me and John going on a celebratory trip to some place hot--possibly on a cruise of some kind--We both ended up taking separate trips to Vegas this year. That's as close as we got.
A possible start to searching for our first home together--CHECK!
Planning the wedding--Venues are booked, dress is bought...I don't need anything else, do I?

What does 2010 hold?

The wedding!
The honeymoon!
And I WILL sell a book, dammit, or else get an agent or SOMETHING.

Onward!

Photo editor FAIL

2009-12-07T11:50:00.002-06:00

Today's Metro News commuter paper, page 10:

Someone's St. Peter is showing.

http://www.metronews.ca/toronto--You can read the whole paper by clicking on the link on the left-hand side bar.

Smartikus J. Cat, Destroyer of Worlds

2009-12-06T10:13:00.006-06:00

It's been a little over a month since we adopted Smartikus, and he's all settled in and comfortable now. Perhaps a little too comfortable.

It's hard to determine most days if he's being affectionate or just a jerk because he knows he can get away with it. Even as I'm typing this post, he is purring and getting right in my face so that he can get a shot at my cereal milk. I'm trying to ignore him, but he keeps tapping me: just a little reminder that he's here. Tap, tap, tap. Hi, Mommy, gimme yur fud.

And now he's pushed my elbow and made me spill a spoonful of cereal down my front.

Other affectionately jerky things he's been up to:

Chewing through both mine and John's cell phone charger cords (that's just plain jerky)
Waking me up just before my alarm goes off every morning by jumping on me, poking my face, giving me wet willies (he actually licks his paw and smears it all over my face and, if he can, my mouth)
Attacking my hands or feet if I try to sleep in too late. (Mommy, wake up! Wake up! The sun's out! Wake up! GIVE ME LUV!!!)
Sitting directly in front of my computer screen and helping me write (No, Mommy, I like this letter ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;)
Sitting right on top of my overtime manuscripts, no matter where I put them (I help you, Mommy! I keep the plot under my bum!)
Climbing onto my back and shoulders at least once every day--I can't decide if this is some display of dominance or affection (I shnuggle! I shnuggle you lots! AND NOW I BITE YOUR ELBOW AND RIBS!)

Other fun things we've learned about Smarty:

He plays fetch with balls of crumpled up paper. No dollar-store toys for him!
He's bananas for bananas.
If he likes you, he'll reach out and put a paw on you and give you a meaningful look, just to let you know he's there for you, bro.
He talks a lot.
He has cold kitty breath. Very odd to feel when you're sleeping and he decides to give you a little nuzzle.
One of his favorite places to be: on top of the fridge, where he can survey his domain and watch the squirrels outside.

Despite the jerkiness, he always makes up for his bad behaviour by being shnuggly. He really is our dream cat.

To Whom It May Concern...

2009-12-04T12:31:00.003-06:00

We've started receiving Christmas cards for the former and now deceased owner of our house. Up until now, I've written Return to Sender--Deceased on all mail for her. Most of it was from charities she probably donated to. But something tells me treating Christmas cards from friends overseas would be...how should I put this...dickish.

What do I do? Write a letter Regretting to inform you to the sender? Do I forward personal mail to the deceased's son, who is probably still heartbroken over her death? I don't know if I want to bother him with it during the holidays.

Help? Advice?

I'm baaaack...

2009-11-05T19:59:00.005-06:00

Whew.

All moved into the new house; cat's settling in nicely; Halloween's over; most of my immediate writing projects are being put to bed now; Trojan scareware seems to have disappeared from the computer for now....

Time to blog and post pics!

Proof that I did the Weekend to End Breast Cancer walk on Sept. 12,
the day after closing my house:

Before and after shots of the living room and kitchen at my new place:

Living room before:

Living room after (no, it's not yellow, that's just the lighting and camera. And it's fuzzy.):

Kitchen before:

Kitchen after:

My baby's got his Masters of Journalism!

Smartikus J. Cat, the newest addition to our home/family
(Charmander: "GONNA GET U!"):

Halloween costume contest at Harlequin: almost the entire proofreading department came as a pink sheet and Post-It note flags for the editor (we use this pink sheet as a control sheet so that everyone's on the same page). Our group won second place!

Note: the girl in the silver box is a proofreader, but she came as a Lite-Brite. It worked, too.

So yeah, been kinda busy. Now that things are a little more settled, I might actually get some other stuff done....

Busy

2009-10-18T22:00:00.001-05:00

As I'm in the process of moving and will be Internet-less until after the move, blogs will be few and far between for the next couple of weeks. My desktop has also contracted a Trojan Horse virus, and since I'm in the market for a new computer anyhow, it may be a bit before I get back to our regularly scheduled program.

Consolidating!

2009-10-06T20:44:00.003-05:00

As I make the slow change over to my pseudonym, Victory Essex, you'll see shorter (and fewer) Writer Updates. Those will be hosted exclusively on Victory's March (my author blog), and occasionally on Vicki Heat's blog, Thermal Dynamics.

If you haven't done so, visit my blogs! And Become a Fan of Victory Essex on Facebook, and Tweet her! (If VE's on Twitter, does that make her a Twit?)

Any suggestions on design or content? Let me know! I'm always up for improving stuff. Cuz stuff is fun! Yay!

Third of three does not make me a loser, dammit!

2009-10-04T14:13:00.003-05:00

I got the news today, oh, boy....

Finished third in the TRW's Golden Opportunity contest in the Contemporary Series category. From first in scores to third in rank (of three).

Poop. Oh, well, there's always next year. It was good to know I even made the finals.

Here's what the category judge, Harlequin Superromance's Wanda Ottewell, had to say:

How would you rate this entry on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being the highest?
7

What was strong about this entry?
Really captures the heroine’s unique voice with the narrative. Her personality comes through well so the reader feels connected.

What could be improved?
A more unique, less typical meet between the hero and heroine would be good. While the collision between hero and heroine sparks physical awareness, as a device it gets used a lot.

I totally knew this about the setup when I set out to write the book, of course. But it is my first book, and after three years of rejigging, it actually rates as not half-bad, so on the scale of things, WIN!

Better luck next time!

Life: an update

2009-10-03T10:44:00.003-05:00

Renovations on the new house are on hold as we await the electrical inspector's okay. It's a frustrating time as we wait to get more done. We can't patch or close walls or put kitchen cabinets up until he says to go ahead. All I can do right now is pack.

John is sick with what sounds to be a nasty respiratory infection. I'm loading up on good food, lots of sleep and lots of hand washing to keep the illness at bay. Everyone in my office is sick, so it's been like trying to dodge mist.

Meanwhile, because our life isn't interesting enough, we're adopting a cat. A friend of a friend has to give up her furry companion, so John and I've decided to take him in. He sounds perfect for us. Three years old, neutered and declawed...and his name is Smartikus. We knew as soon as we heard that name that he'd be perfect. We get to meet him tomorrow, and hopefully, we'll be moved in and ready to take him home at the end of the month.

If only this was the world's only problem...

2009-09-26T19:11:00.004-05:00

Jesus would be mortified.

I find it hilarious that my teacher incorrectly fixed my spelling of "weird" by putting an "e" after "i", making it "wiered" rather than "wired."

Cowboys and cookies, beefcake and biscuits

2009-09-25T18:51:00.003-05:00

Corportate shilling? Maybe. But I like men and cookies and would do anything to push both upon the beefcake cookie monsters of the world. Nom nom nom.

As part of Harlequin’s 60th anniversary sampling campaign, Harlequin has partnered with Peek Freans Lifestyle Selections to offer Canadian women A Taste of Mischief through a unique co-branded promotion – and the fun starts this Saturday right here in Toronto!

Promotional Events & Highlights

Sampling at Indigo Stores – Sat. Sept. 26

Come check out the heroes of Harlequin’s Montana Royalty as cowboys, sheriffs, and princes greet customers with cookie samples at select Indigo stores this weekend. Staff at many other Chapters, Indigo and Coles locations across Ontario will also be distributing the sample packs. The Heroes will be at the following Indigo stores at 12pm this Saturday and Sunday:

· Scarborough Commons

· Yorkdale

· Square One

Launch Event at Yonge/Dundas Square – Wed. Sept. 30

Harlequin is hosting a live-sampling event at Yonge/Dundas Square on Wednesday, September 30. Highlights include:

· LiveEye segment with CP24’s Matte Babel (7:00 am – 9:00 am)

· Learn how to pose for a Harlequin cover and have your photo taken with our Harlequin Heroes. (10:00 am – 2:00 pm)

· Enjoy a musical performance by The Good Lovelies, a sassy and flirty bluegrass trio reminiscent of The Dixie Chicks (12:30 pm – 1:30 pm)

· Catch the Harlequin Heroes distributing sample packs (10:00 am – 2:00 pm; 3:00 pm – 7:00 pm)

peekfreans.ca – Sept. 8 - Nov. 15

If you haven’t done so already, visit peekfreans.ca to:

· Enter for a chance to WIN a trip fit for one of Harlequin’s Heroines

· Download Montana Royalty, a FREE exclusive eBook from Harlequin’s Intrigue series

· Create Your Harlequin Story by completing a short and simple questionnaire

· Tell us what tempts you by answering the Harlequin Romance Report questionnaire

· View photos from the Harlequin Hero events

· Learn about the better-for-you qualities of Peek Freans Lifestyle Selections cookies

For Anna

2009-09-19T19:28:00.004-05:00

Sad news: one of my fondest childhood memories has passed away.

Anna Scaramuzza ran the little convenience store across the street from my elementary school, Lord Lansdowne P.S. The no-nonsense German woman with the white apron and frazzled, curly grey hair often wore a frown as she was beseiged every lunchtime and after school by junior and senior school kids clamoring for penny candies, powdered donuts, Mr. Noodles, and sandwiches. But even if Anna's mouth wasn't smiling, her eyes and her heart were. She passed away peacefully September 17, 2009.

The unassuming turquoise-fronted shop on Robert Street was simply known as "Anna's." The fixtures hadn't been updated since the days when the shop had been a general goods store. I remembered the geraniums and spider plants in the front window on one side, along with the assortment of toys, firecrackers, styrofoam airplanes, water pistols, and other awesome things she sold on the other. When you walked into Anna's, you knew you would come out with something special. I remember how I found a penny on the ground once when I was 6, and after school bought the yummiest lone Gummi Bear I had ever eaten. Anna was amused.

I remember how the older grade 7 and 8 kids would sit on the sawed off picnic bench leaning out front during lunchtime in the days before containment became the only means for schoolyard safety. That bench was a hallmark of seniority, and if you were sitting there, you were in the big leagues.

My first kiss in grade 7 was in front of that store. I remember spitting in mild disgust over the waist-high cinderblock wall afterward. (Sorry, first junior-high bf. You really just didn't do it for me. At all.)

Anna had a beautiful chocolate-colored short-haired Weimaraner-mixed dog named Cindy who grew fat, red-eyed and ill on the gummies the students fed her. Her offspring, Lola, faired no better. Nonetheless, the students mourned when each of these dogs passed. Smelly and chubby and obsequious as they were, they were a part of the legacy, fixtures in our quickly dwindling childhoods. I remember that Anna, though her dour expression did not show it, was sad when they were gone, too.

When I was in grade 7, Anna's husband, Luigi, died. He had left a donation to the school of a set of new encyclopedias (there was no Internet back then) and the students in the senior art classes were asked to sketch Anna's as a tribute. I remember sitting out in front of the school with my pencils and sketchbook, surrounded by my classmates, trying to get the details in the front window just right. Never mind that the lintel of the roof wasn't right; I just had to get those plants in. The details were everything. I would have drawn the colorful array of gummies in if I could. I even included a sleeping Lola, who turned out to be an amorphous grey blob in front of the shop.

To my great dismay, I wore down my turquoise pencil crayon coloring the place in, as well as my apple-red for the painted brick. I was so upset by the fact that my pencil crayons weren't being worn down evenly that I selfishly refused to lend out those two colors to anyone else. After all, what was I to do once I ran out of turquoise or apple-red?

Eventually, one of those sketches was chosen to honor Luigi's donation. Apparently, it was framed and is hanging in the principal's office. I've been told that picture was mine.

Anna will always be remembered among the students, parents and alumni of Lord Lansdowne as someone who not only provided us treats, but who also provided us a retreat from the drudgery of elementary academics and melodrama.

Anna's was a special place. Anna was a special lady.

She will be missed.

Interactivity! Identity Crisis

2009-09-16T21:19:00.006-05:00

I'm currently participating in an online workshop hosted by the Toronto Romance Writers on branding and, as I'm early in my career, it has been an eye-opening and thoroughly frustrating experience.

Admittedly, marketing is not my forte: I figured that out early during my short and entirely degrading experience working in a marketing department.

Simply put, it is entirely counter-intuitive to represent myself as something I'm not--and what I write is not who I am. I am not a person who focuses solely on contemporary family romance, even though that was what my last book was; nor am I the fantasy fanfiction writer most of the Google world knows me as.

Still, I can see the benefits of maintaining a certain integrity and message in my "public" face, i.e. Vicki Heat or Victory Essex. But having these two distinct IDs is really starting to throw me off. Some days I'm Victory Essex, the classy, dramatic writer who likes to glide through her mansion in her red velvet dress and drink brandy by the fireplace; other days, I'm Vicki Heat, who takes a shot of tequila with her to the bathtub where she lies around and dreams about where she'd like to place GSP or Tahmoh Penikett in her stories.

In the various worksheets and exercises, we're quizzed on the colors we like, the clothes that make us feel like a million bucks; we're asked to describe ourselves, how we present ourselves to others, our writing...it's all very confusing. Up until now, I've always just been Vicki So, an eclectic mix of all that is zany and sweet in the world...like a cotton candy cloud filled with euphoric ants. Now that I'm forcing myself to narrow it down to one identity to sell to the public, I don't know WHO I AM!

Help! Readers out there know me best (sorta). I need you to identify me!

Throw me some words to describe me! Manic? Humorous? Funky? Fresh? Smelly? Just this side of bat-shit-crazy? One donut short of a baker's dozen? You decide!

Your task: Give me your best adjective, adjective noun description of me as a writer.

(Bad) Examples:
Funky, Fresh Comedian
Wry, Witty Go-getter
Hungry, Hungry Hippo

Winner will get an icon designed by Poor, Pennyless Author!

Contest ends midnight EST, September 30, 2009.

FAMOUS ON TEH INTERWEBS

2009-09-15T21:32:00.001-05:00

My submission to FAILblog hit the front page! FOR TEH WIN!

see more Fail Blog

WEBC Wrap-up

2009-09-14T20:48:00.006-05:00

By the numbers:

4,616 = walkers participating this weekend
$11.6 million = total money raised to end women's cancers for the Princess Margaret Hospital
$37,561 = money raised by Team Harlequin
$1,510 = amount I raised through the very generous donations given directly to my campaign
$255.58 = funds raised from donations from the Kensington Market Community
$34.68 = price of the awesome dri-fit Team Harlequin T-shirt we wore
3 = times I used a port-a-potty on my 1-day +30 km walk
10 = hours it took me to complete the walk
4 = ibuprofen tablets I took within a 24-hour span
17 = hours it took to get the stiffness out of my legs

Highlights of the walk:

It was way more than 30km. After the first 4km, the sign said: "30.43 km to go!" and 4 km later, at the next stop, it said "30.4 km to go!" So I probably walked closer to 40 km that one day.

The route takes you through several residential neighborhoods, and people tie pink ribbons or decorate their properties, or sit out on the porch and say thank you and cheer you on all along the way. A number of them lay out spreads of cookies, fruit, snacks, water, chocolate and more. One house handed out little cups of beer. After 28 km, it was the BEST. BEER. EVER.

You wouldn't believe the vast array of people who turn up at these things just to give you high fives and cheer you on. There was this woman on a motorcycle who'd had a mastectomy and way wearing this leather metal-studded one-boob bra who was right in there, all smiles, her hog decorated with boobs and bras.

Lunch was a box set of grilled chicken, pasta salad, a dinner roll, and a lemon tart, plus some Lipton Green Tea drinks. It didn't matter if they didn't taste perfect--at that point, ANYTHING tasted good.

The route:

Starting at Exhibition Place, through Princess Gates, along Lakeshore Blvd., north along Parkside (next to High Park) and then through some residential streets, through Bloor West Village (why we had to walk along the busy Bloor Street stretch from Keele to Humber River, I really don't understand) and then a whole bunch north...I got lost since we doubled-backed a few times. We crossed Islington several times, in fact. We ended up at Downsview Park.

The day:

Hour 1: WOOOO!! YEAH!!! BOOBS!!!!! WE CAN DO THIS!!!! WOOOOOO!!!

Hour 1.5: Wooo! Wooooooo!

Hour 2: *Stark silence as the realization of how long this walk is hits*

Hour 3: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE OUT OF GATORADE AND PEANUT BUTTER? *eats bagel dry, downs water, regrets the bloating combination*

Hour 4: Shoulda stopped at the last convenience store for Gatorade...I'm drowning in water, but I'm STILL THIRSTY.

Hour 5: Terrible hunger pangs lead to discussions about food. *Word games to pass the time commence to distract us from hunger*

Hour 6: Lunch! WOOOOO!!!! YEAH!!!! FREEBIES!!! WOOOO!!! BOOBIES!!! YEAH!!!

Hour 7: Are we there yet? Oh, God, Are we there yet? *cries a little*

Hour 8: You said it'd be 4 more kilometers FIVE KILOMETERS AGO!!! WHY ARE YOU PLAYING WITH MY MIND???

Hour 9: Support SUVs (of shame) start to look really appealing. Thinks driving one is the better option. Someone in a swank neighborhood hands me a Rocket Popsicle. I am rejuvenated.

Hour 10: WOOOOO!!! WOOOOOOOOO!!! I'm done! Oh, thank you, jeebus, I'm done!!! *hips collapse, calves seize, spine accordions, pass out on ground*

Overall:

This was a personal endeavor for me, and of course it was important. But I'm not sure I'll do this again next year simply because hitting up my friends and family for that kind of money regularly is draining. Maybe in another year's time I'll do it. I will, however, continue other fund-raising efforts in order to help those members of Team Harlequin who do this every year. They are inspiring and awesome.

For a more interesting (and invariably more emotional) rundown of the WEBC from someone who walked the (omigod, how she did it, I will never know) 2-day walk, go to my pal's blog at RockItLoveItLiveIt.worpress.com.

Short segment featuring a few of my co-walkers on CTV News here. (Go to Sunday, September 13, and start the clip at 11:47)

Thanks again to everyone who supported this fantastic endeavor! If you're interested in signing up for next year, go to www.endcancer.ca.

I swear this didn't come off the Onion

2009-09-08T18:05:00.004-05:00

UFC President Dana White reacts to news that Rampage Jackson might star in the A-Team movie as B.A. Baracus (aka Mr. T), missing his fight with Rashad Evans in UFC 107.

“‘Guess what Rashad Evans is thinking about right now,’” White said. “‘He’s thinking about beating your [expletive] ass. He’s not sitting around thinking about how him and his mom used to watch the [expletive] ‘Love Boat’ together and (how) he wants to get the role of Isaac the bartender. ‘Get a [expletive] grip, dude. You’re going to make a lot of money. You ain’t going to make a lot of money playing B.A. Baracus on ‘The A-Team.’ Jesus Christ...."

Oh, the ever eloquent Dana White.

Original story here.

And yet more news that MMA is about to jump a popularity shark: female fighter Gina Carano's also getting a movie role.

Inspiration...

2009-09-07T13:03:00.002-05:00

People often ask me if I base my characters on people I know.

Meet my latest hero, Kyle Peters.

Because working with Georges St. Pierre as a template for Dominic Payette in Fighting for Her Love worked so well to keep my creative juices (get your mind out of the gutter) flowing, I decided to pattern Kyle after Tahmoh Penikett, aka Helo from Battlestar Galactica and Paul Ballard from Dollhouse.

What I particularly like about Tahmoh, apart from a fantastic body, is his ability to shift from hard get-the-job-done guy to soft and sweet husband/lover/father. In his roles as Helo and Paul, he radiates absolute strength, but there's also a core of uncertainty and the tiniest hint of weakness there, too. If you watch him in interviews and on stage at conventions, he comes off as a super-playful guy who loves what he does and loves the fans. Tahmoh is also a practitioner of Muay Thai, as demonstrated in Dollhouse.

I found it quite easy to picture Kyle, a former Olympic gold wrestler, shifting through these different variations of Tahmoh at different stages of Kyle's life. The sheer intensity on his face is what I try to keep in mind.

And just because I think it's funny, Kyle's also a huge fan of Battlestar. 'Cuz that's the way I role.

One week left

2009-09-06T14:01:00.005-05:00

Training is stopping pretty much as of yesterday. I walked 23.31 km in 5 hours, to and from the new house. I was exhausted by the end of it, and had a pretty dark tan despite the sunscreen. It wasn't until the next morning that I was really feeling it.

And, oh, boy, do I hurt right now. I guess I know what to expect next weekend now: pain in my gluts, back, ribs, spine, shins and knees. My feet are miraculously fine, thanks to double-layer frictionless socks and my New Balance shoes.

Meanwhile, a shout out to the community of Kensington Market and patrons of CAAM United Hardware. They helped me raise $255.58 for the Weekend to End Breast Cancer! Thank you everyone in the market!

Chapped

2009-09-04T18:31:00.003-05:00

I've gone from having a dry skin problem in the winter to having a dry lips problem in the summer. Lately, my lips can't get enough moisture, and when left to their own devices, they get all shrunken and chapped and cracked.

Usually, I just use Vaseline to kept them covered, but having a jar around isn't handy, and I detest those little squeeze tubes--they get fetid and smelly really quickly.

So I've been trying out different products in the hopes of finding something suitable. Here's my run down of my stock.

Vaseline: good ol' petroleum jelly. Great for lubricating parts of your body when you go for a run, makes a good toast spread...Is there nothing it can't do? Unfortunately, the goo hasn't been cutting it lately, not without slathering it on with a trowel.

Blistex lip chap (mint): this has a nice, delicately medicated burn I associate with healing properties. Because if it doesn't burn, it can't be doing anything to help, right? Actually, I find this is pretty much the most effective lip chap I buy, but at almost $3 for this tiny tube, I kinda wonder if it's worth it. I use it up really quickly.

Tinkerbell lip balm: I figured, hey, if it's good enough for little girls, it's gotta be fine for me, right? Wrong. This atomic pink tube of goo actually tastes like what I imagine a ground-up fairy would taste like--alternately lovely and disgusting. I can't decide if it's a berry mixture, a flower mixture, bubblegum, or if someone just scooped out the contents of a Glade gel plug in and stuffed it into this tiny tube. Also, it make you look like you've been sucking on lollipops all day. It was the cheapest thing at Shoppers Drug Mart, though. $1.49 for the tube of 4.5 g.

Nivea Hydro Care: The lipstick format of this tube is much nicer than the tiny twist bottom lip chaps. I've always hated how when you get to the end of the lip chap, you try grinding it onto your lips, hollowing out a nice, sharp bowl in the end bit of plastic. So far, my only issue with this lip chap is that it has a strangely suffocating feeling when applied, as though my lips can't breathe. They feel silky smooth, sure, but that might be from some kind of reaction to the cream. It's normally $3, but I got it on sale for $2.

C.O. Bigelow Rose Salve: It's like Vaseline, only pink and it smells of roses. This stuff is actually really nice, but it comes in a little tin and it costs $8 for 22 g. The whole idea for lip care is that I don't have to touch my mouth--at least, that's my aim. I apply it in the morning, but it doesn't exactly last.

Anyone have any suggestions for my lips? And don't suggest kisses--saliva dries our your lips really fast.

Ai yi yi yi yi!

2009-09-03T18:05:00.004-05:00

The Green Power Ranger is training in MMA!

The former action star from the hit series "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers" has officially made the move to mixed martial arts, and while training with UFC lightweight Melvin Guillard, he hopes to make his real fighting experience as successful as he did on television.

Frank is hoping to fight as soon as possible.

"I was supposed to fight in 2007, but it fell through. In truth, I've wanted to put the work in until I'm ready," Frank said in an interview from the Suckerpunch website. "I know I have a target on my back. Everyone is going to want to beat up the Green Ranger."

Personally, I'm rooting for him. At 35, he's gotta be pretty ballsy to get into pro MMA fighting. Mind you, he does have a crapload of experience beyond punching Putties.

And, just because the hair was fantastic...

GAAAH

2009-09-01T20:49:00.005-05:00

In the ongoing saga of paperwork associated with homebuying:

Scene 1: Catch-22
Got home insurance finally. YAY! It was a big to-do since no one would insure a house with 100% knob and tube...which really doesn't make sense since I need home insurance to get into the house to take the knob and tube out so I can get home insurance. Biggest catch-22 ever. Managed to work it out with TD Insurance (thank you, Suke!) but there's lots of paperwork that needs to be done, plus the rewiring all needs to be completed 30 days after my closing date. ACK!

Scene 2: Bran helps with weight loss
Did an interview with the mortgage insurance people regarding my health. I guess they're trying to decide whether I'm going to drop dead suddenly. My favorite question went like this:

Questioner: Have you recently lost any weight?
Me: Hmm...well, maybe about five pounds.
Q: And can you tell me why?
Me: ...Er...I pooped?

I'm still waiting to get the A-OK from them--John and I are both young and relatively healthy, but I'm gnashing my teeth until then.

Scene 3: Father Time treads softly
Today I learned it would take 10 days or so to process the request to withdraw funds from my RRSP under the Home Buyer's Plan so that I don't get charged tax on it. I'm seeing my lawyer and need to give him the balance of my downpayment and the fees etc. next Wednesday. And Labour Day is coming up. That gives me 7 days to deal with this.

Moral of the story: shoulda withdrawn them waaaay earlier.

Scene 4: In which we plan our house
We've purchased new appliances at the Brick, but the kitchen cabinets and counter from Ikea are on hold until a little later in the month--supposedly, there'll be a kitchen event in the fall and we're going to cash in on that when it comes up. I just hope that's sooner rather than later. I want to get this place started and done so I can sleep in my new house, dammit.

I'm happy to say that some very nice friends and colleagues are volunteering to help with the kitchen demolition and painting later on. They shall all be well pizzaed and beered. Assuming I still have money when we get to that point...

The Cuteness of Little Ones

2009-08-29T09:48:00.002-05:00

Bowie's Got Talent:

Bowie's Got Talent

Avery's First Word:

Avery's First Word!

Best. Birthday Card. Ever.

2009-08-25T22:11:00.002-05:00

Proof that my little sister shares the same DNA: we have the same morbid sense of humor.

WOO HOO!

2009-08-22T07:51:00.005-05:00

My first book, Her Cinderella Secret, made the finals in the Toronto Romance Writers' Golden Opportunity Contest in the Contemporary Category!

YAY! Peer recognition!

Even if I don't win, I consider this a real accomplishment. Something to put on my resume.

Mind you, I still haven't heard back from Mills & Boon Tender Romance about it--I've emailed a couple of times, hoping to get a response. Next step is to write a letter, I suppose, to let them know the book (or at least the first three chapters) did pretty well.

Meanwhile, victoryessex.blogspot.com and vickiheat.blogspot.com are up and running! For now, each will get a posting on alternating weeks, unless something big happens, like this. HCS will likely be published under the Victory Essex label...if and when someone buys it...*hopes*

In other news...

My third book, Fighting for Her Love, is still awaiting a verdict (aka rejection) from Harlequin Superromance. It's still the best book I've written until now, and lots of people who've read the first chapter really like it. Big sister Fiona read the whole thing and told me it "kept her up at night," which is good.

I'm working on a second "Fight" book, tentatively titled Wrestling with Attraction. A brief overview:

Kyle Peters has a new student: Charlie Handover was sent to him with promises that ol' Chuck would be the next big thing in mixed martial arts. Just one thing: Charlie's a girl. Kyle refuses to get into it with another female fighter. The last one accused him of sexual assault and nearly ruined his career as a coach.

Charlie Handover has never been good at anything except fighting. The tomboy has a real chance to be an MMA star. But to get there, she needs Kyle to teach her. He can train her to grapple and hold an opponent in submission. But it seems her untrained heart has other ideas when she falls for her reluctant coach.

...And then an extra horrible thought came to me...

2009-08-20T22:04:00.003-05:00

...Is my new house okay? It hasn't been insured yet...

...And did someone close the window in the basement? Because last time we were there, it'd been left open (not by us, though we left it on the assumption that someone had left it open for a reason) to get the damp, musty smell out...

Aw, hell, homeowning is aging me superfast.

WHO'S YOUR MOMMA? WHO'S YOUR MOMMA???

2009-08-20T22:00:00.001-05:00

MOTHER FUCKING NATURE, THAT'S WHO.

Welcome to my nightmare: Tornados in the GTA. The sky coming down for a little stroll in your neighborhood. The sky wears big boots.

It's nice to know that all over this city, this province, this country, THE WORLD, the reaction to tornadoes and doom weather is the same, no matter what language you speak or where you hail from:

"HOLY FUCK! OMIGOD! HOLY SHIT! THAT'S A TORNADO!"

Yeah. Yeah, it is. Now y'all know why I have reoccurring nightmares about them.

I am now a homeowner

2009-08-18T21:09:00.002-05:00

John and I have been keeping this news to ourselves until the official day, but we decided to make it official via Facebook.

We bought a house!

It's at Main and Danforth, semi-detached 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, unfinished basement, with a garage and small backyard and front yard. It was a terrific find. It needs lots of work--the wiring all has to be replaced and we're planning a whole new kitchen. But it is undeniably ours, thanks to my parents' help.

The story goes like this: we were heading out to see a bunch of houses when my funcle Simon (that's fake Uncle Simon) sent along this listing that had just gone up. It was the first house we saw that day, and we fell in love. The next day, we went to the bank, got our mortgage approved, saved a man's life*, and won the bid in a nail-biting round of bidding that ended with us still bidding beneath the asking price.

Closing date's Sept. 11, at which point we'll be sending in the troops to fix things up. We're knocking down a wall, stripping out wires, and ripping up the kitchen floor. Fun times ahead!

So if I've been kind of distracted lately...well, now you know.

*(Yes, we did, in fact save a man's life. A guy pitched forward and fell in the middle of the street in front of my father's car on our way to the bank. I called 911 while John turned him over and Dad redirected traffic. Something similar happened to us the day after John and mine's first date. I'm sure John will blog about it.)

This just in...

2009-08-18T18:43:00.005-05:00

Chef Gordon Ramsay stabbed through heart by Stingray

ReallyFakeNews, New York--Celebrity reality TV chef Gordon Ramsay was stabbed to death while filming his newest reality cooking show, Shut the Fuck Up and Cook Shit While I Scream At You. He was 48.

"It's really no surprise," one witness at the fake five-star restaurant said as Ramsay's eviscerated body was carted away. "This was a long time coming."

Fans and foodies alike concur. "He was always handling dangerous, high-strung people with his trademark in-your-face attitude," says Bob Green, a stage hand who's worked with Ramsay on his other hit shows You'll Take It and Like It, and You Can Eat My Ass. "He never had any fear. That was probably his first mistake. I mean, the man wrestled with egos armed with fire and sharp knives. Did he really think he was going to keep doing that and not get stabbed one day?"

Ramsay was chewing out one of the apprentice chefs who was cooking steak when the man, 25-year-old Scott "Stingray" Smith turned on the man and jabbed a boning knife into Ramsay's chest.

"Is that well-done enough for you? Is it too raw now, Chef? Huh, huh, huh?" Stingray screamed as he twisted the weapon like a corkscrew.

Police are treating the death as an accident.

"If anything, the deceased fell victim to his own inflated sense of invulnerability," Police Commissioner Bruce Redding said. "You just don't go poking rabid dogs with sticks...especially if they're skilled with Five-Star Henckles."

Ramsay is survived by four children and his wife.

THAT'S in a name!

2009-08-14T20:40:00.002-05:00

The people have spoken. My pen name is:

Victory Essex

But since the votes were so close, I'll be taking on Vicki Heat for more salacious contemporary fiction, and using Victory Essex for more family-oriented romance. Special thanks to Xiao Pangzi for the name suggestion: she'll be receiving a special Harlequin vintage print T-shirt as thanks for the suggestion.

Thanks to everyone who voted!

Stay tuned for victoryessex.blogspot.com!

Best. Book review. EVER.

2009-08-11T12:49:00.002-05:00

From Smart Bitches, guest book review on PREGNESIA, which I proofread.

Frickin' hilarious.

Carla Cassidy's comments are included. What a sport.

Just a quick note to say...

2009-08-10T19:25:00.001-05:00

...that like John, shit is getting real. I'll be back soon with more silliness and non-Dymaxion-World type musings about nothing to waste your day away.

In which I beg forgiveness

2009-08-03T15:49:00.003-05:00

I fucked up.

I was supposed to arrange for a weekend getaway with my bridesmaids to my parents' cottage. But in the hubbub of house hunting and thinking about the wedding, I totally dropped the ball, forgot all about the trip, and double booked the weekend to go to Ottawa.

I feel like an idiot. A complete and utter moron. I've been feeling terrible about it all weekend, and I can't forgive myself this humiliating lapse in friendship. For one, I know my two girls needed the getaway to de-stress from a long and hard summer; and two, I wanted to be, you know, a friend. Not the girl who just forgets the people who are supposed to be close to her.

In the mire of life, of balancing work with play and family with friends, it's easy to lose sight of the important things. Not only did I lose sight, I was totally and utterly blindsided by the spectacle of home ownership, and then, instead of looking around and getting my bearings, I put on blinders and focused on one thing.

Fuck. I hate disappointing others, and I hate being a disappointment. I hate feeling like I'm unreliable, and I hate that I've just totally let this slip through the cracks. This is almost as bad as that nightmare I had about leaving my babies in the trunk of the car, and them turning into frozen chickens.

To my ladies, if they're reading this: I'm. So. Sorry. Please, just beat the crap out of me next time you see me. I'll come bearing steak and crepes and the saddest hang-dog face ever.

Conversations with the fiance

2009-08-01T14:52:00.002-05:00

Me, watching John, playing Super Mario World:

Me: That's just the stupidest design for a castle. I mean, how dickish is it to have a floor that sinks into a pit of lava? You're killing all your minions!
John: Well, this way they don't have to pay union dues.
Me: Huh?
John: It's cheaper to give the families of the minions a small payout rather than continue paying out benefits and salary.
Me: ...I'm going to blog this conversation now.

Of No Import

The Wussification of Darth Vader

Mad Men: Don Draper in the First Three Episodes of the First Season

In Which I Speak Entirely in Star Wars to the Hubby

I stopped because he wasn't moving...and because I had nothing better to do

BUY MY BOOK, DAMMIT

UFC 129 Roundup

THIS IS MY BOOK.

Because I fail at blogging...

Can it get any more official?

Happy International Women's Pancake Day

*Sigh...*

The Green Room Strikes Back

Are You RUSHFIT?

Skater Hater

Every little thing gonna be all right

OMG New content???

All Hail Jabba the Ford

A Month of Giveaways!

GSP Is Not Impressed By Your Performance

I SOLD MY MOTHER#$^&*$#@ BOOK!!!!!!!

Publishers Weekly Fan Expo Write Up

Dear Tahmoh...

Fan Expo 2010

Yup.

Awake

Why Can't I Quit You?

DO NOT WANT AGAIN!

Epithets and Gender: a Douche Bag's Musings

Made the finals!

Three Kangaroos

SQUEE!

Avatar: The Legend of Korra

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

The Last Airbender in Five Stages of Grief

Review: M. Night Shyamalan`s The Last Airbender

*DESPAIR*

Thugs Need Hugs

G20 as explained by animals -OR- Why I Never Became a Journalist

Wedding Post Mortem

It's just hair...it'll grow back...

Quickie reviews!

The Happiest Blur of My Life

Oh My Goddess!

Power Up!

New layout...?

You've Got Mail

Mega post

SQUEE in 3D

FALSE.

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous...

Golden Heart scores

Updates!

Not a tumor?

How to terrify a bride a little more than two months before the wedding

Inflamation of the...er...weird 80's cult movie?

Altered States

Do. Not. Want.

Playing blogging catchup

Getting Medieval on my ass...

W00t!

More SQUEEEEE than I can shake a fist at

February BLEAACCCHHHGGGHHHRRR...

Avatarddendum *lil' squee*

*LAST AIRBENDER SQUEEEEE*

POST 600! --OR-- I suck at blogging

Do. Not. Want.

Best. Video. EVER.

Looking back...

Photo editor FAIL

Smartikus J. Cat, Destroyer of Worlds

To Whom It May Concern...

I'm baaaack...

Busy

Consolidating!

Third of three does not make me a loser, dammit!

Life: an update

If only this was the world's only problem...

Cowboys and cookies, beefcake and biscuits

For Anna

Sigh...

DESPAIR

Avatarddendum lil' squee

LAST AIRBENDER SQUEEEEE