Meljean Brook

Why are there not more hours in a day???

…

That is all.

Reminder to self: things that are unimportant are not worth arguing about. Also, many other things are not worth arguing about, because they are only important to me. And some things, there is no way to state your position without sounding like an ass.

That is all.

*I can’t remember where I first saw this image (somewhere around the blogosphere), so I found it again by Googling “come to bed someone on the internet is wrong”. It was the first image that popped up, and reminded me why I love the internet so much.

ETA: Now I remember. *headdesk* It’s from the xkcd strip.

–My husband, after I dared to step on the scale for the first time in a year, and realized that I’d gained 10 lbs.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!”

–My husband, two seconds later.

“Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!”

–Meljean, minute 30 in the gym this morning.

Arrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

W000000000000000000000000000000000T!

*soooooooooooooooooooooooooobbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb*

D’oh!

Yayayayayayayay!

Gah!!

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL! LMAO! LMFAO! ROTFLMAO!

WTF?

*cries*

*headdesk*

*crazy happy dance*

…okay, I’m almost ready for the release. Reviews are coming in (like this one). I’m putting my head down and going to pretend not to see (until, of course, I do a round up next week while massively pimping my book. I’m buying a pimp hat just for the occasion.)

So we meet again, Automated Postal Center. I see you were intimidated by my mad MacGyver skills that time you tried to eat my debit card, and so you have dreamed up new and horrid trials for me to overcome, new ways to thwart me.

And you have almost succeeded.

At midnight last night, I felt supremely confident entering your domain. My debit-card dropping daughter was safe at home. There were no lines out the door, which was why I had waited until such an ungodly hour to go to the post office. I had only two packages to send, and both were domestic. Two ARCs, no larger than a trade-sized book.

I used you, APC, oh yes. I used you like the bitch you are. I got my postage, slapped it on.

And that is when you bitch-slapped me.

Because, apparently, I can no longer send any package after regular postal hours. The blue bin next to you–I usually take such pleasure opening its steel maw–was locked. A new sign was up that said everything over 13 oz had to be brought to the counter. No sending trade-sized books. No sending anything except envelopes–even those official ExpressMail boxes that the postal employees have so nicely put out for our use have nowhere to go.

So, you’ve got me, APC. I’ll have to brave the lines at the post office, after all.

…but it does beg the question: what use are you, then? You’re like an ATM without money. If I need a stamp for an envelope, I’ll just use the stamp vending machine. So, pfft on you.

There’s only one way: tuna fish and noodles, which I made today as comfort food since my plans for the weekend, such as GOING UP TO SEATTLE TO DO RESEARCH AND MOSTLY TO CELEBRATE RICHELLE‘S NEW RELEASE, SUCCUBUS BLUES, IN STORES NOW! are totally shot.

*huff*

*huff*

This crap isn’t as good as I remember it, either. Maybe I need to mix in some peas and crush some Saltines in it, because I’m not feeling the comfort. Actually, it’s kind of gross. Great. Now am I not only missing a party, but have become a haughty lower-middle-class beeeeyotch who can’t appreciate the finer things in life, like tuna noodles.

I still like Mac & Cheese though (but only the generic brand kind. Kraft isn’t so good.)

So, I’ve mentioned before that I make a music playlist for my WIP. A lot of the songs I originally had were country-slanted, but except for a few, that didn’t work out. The feel of the WIP has changed too much for me, but I couldn’t find the exact sound I was looking for … until the other day, when I was watching an X-Files rerun, and I thought about the David Duchovny song, and then I remembered: Bree Sharp!

Like most X-Philes, I bought the A Cheap and Evil Girl CD just for the David Duchovny song … but the whole CD was pretty damn good. She’s got kind of a scratchy voice, and her lyrics are smart, modern and cynical, but without being nihilistic. And a few of the songs are EXACTLY what I’m trying to capture for the WIP.

But I can’t find my CD. I’ve turned the house upside-down today looking for it, and I can’t find it. So I calm myself down, and think: okay, I’ll just buy it on iTunes.

Except it’s not available. *sob* Only a few tracks in a live concert version, and I really prefer the original studio recordings.

So I go to Amazon. They only have used copies (or a new copy for $75). I don’t know about you, but there’s something that just eeks me out about buying a used CD. I can buy used books, used clothes, whatever — but a used CD? Maybe it’s because I’m not all that careful with mine (obviously, since I’ve lost it) but I just don’t like the idea. I’m still looking for a new copy (Tower Records doesn’t have one, and even though I’ve searched the bittorrents, there’s nothing) … and I’m about to buy the used copy. Gah!

But at least the WIP will start sounding right.

LINK OF THE DAY: Here’s a bit of irony. At Bree Sharp’s Myspace site, she has a couple of her music videos from YouTube linked … and one has been removed for copyright violation.

So, the new release date is supposedly November 22. I really, really hope so.

(Silently praying that, someday, this book will be monthly again and ON TIME! I think this may be especially good considering that something important might be coming up for Wonder Woman in the future, something like, I dunno… A FREAKING MOVIE DIRECTED BY JOSS WHEDON!)

*rant banghead rolleyes stabself screamcurse*

Ahem.

Yes, DC. It might behoooooooooove you to build up this comic book as something worth investing time and money in. Not a source of frustration, as the date is pushed back again and the release goes bi-monthly and then not even bi-monthly but LATE YET AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!oneelevenoneone

Okay. I feel all better now.

Thank you so much for messing with my head tonight. A Halloween joke, right? Scaring the shit out of your owner? Because, you know, I just love it when I’m sitting in front of a Burgerville, chowing down a bunch of oh-so-fricking-good sweet potato french fries and staring at the poster of their pumpkin milkshake and thinking yeah, my hips can take that baby, ah yeah, give me some of that cream, and turn the key…and nothing happens, I kind of freak out.

When I’m in Vancouver, of all places. When I should be delivering a present to a friend’s newborn baby. With my tot and husband in the car — because it’s really easy for me to get around alone, but with two kids a three year old and a man? You’ve got to be joking.

When the only person I can call for a ride is my father-in-law. I’d have never heard the end of it. And he might have made me promise to tell him my psuedonym.

So, thank you even more for starting again — even though the fifteen minutes you didn’t do anything but flash a light at me when I turned the key almost made me cry. And, okay, I didn’t really mean it when I said I was going to $#@% your #%$ing starter all to #$@$ and crush your little alternator like a #%$#@!%$ melon. That was just a joke, I swear!

So, please start tomorrow. I promise I’ll take you to the nice mechanic, and he’ll give you a lovely lube job and check out your wiring and all that.

Sincerely,
Meljean

Note: This post contains spoilers for the movie DAWN OF THE DEAD.

So last night I was on the couch with my sister, and we were wallowing in the sweet, sweet bombardment of cheesy horror movies that this time of year brings to TV. BLOODSUCKERS on SciFi channel? Terrible, but oh god what fun it is. Then I saw that DAWN OF THE DEAD was on, and I was like: YAY! because I lurve zombie films, but due to certain circumstances, hadn’t seen it when it came out. (This is a remake of the late 1970’s one by George Romero, based on his screenplay but with a different director, and the characters are all in a shopping mall.)

Aside: God, I really want to write zombies into a romance. Er, as the bad guys. I’m so going to, someday.

Anyway, lots of people are killed, there’s a zombie baby (I was a wimp and had to look away — ever since having a baby I’ve been oogy about things like that) the zombies run really fast (I like that) though there’s the same zombie mythology (you’re bitten, you turn into one; you have to shoot them in the head — I was disappointed that they didn’t seem to care about eating brains, though…just biting. They have to eat brains!)

Okay, okay, here comes the spoilery part:

At the end of the movie, the characters take these buses to a marina, with plans to sail to an island where, maybe, there aren’t any zombies. (Like the end of MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE, only with zombies instead of killer semi-trucks, heh.) And there’s a sad little part where the good guy is bitten and he doesn’t get on a boat, but commits suicide on the dock instead. Aw (because a few of the characters were actually better drawn than your typical stock horror characters). And then the girl who had to leave him behind and three other people sail off into the sunset.

I should have turned off the movie then.

See, I don’t have to have happy endings. I like them, but they aren’t necessary. Ambiguous endings are great. Non-endings are great. Multiple endings — like you get so often on DVDs now (ie: 28 DAYS LATER) — are great, too. Or movies where the main characters die, but there’s a reason and something positive happens because of the sacrifice.

And if the movie had ended with them sailing off, that would have been fine. You don’t know that they’ll make it, but there’s a small, tiny, itty bitty hope. Something to make the whole two hours I spent watching the movie worth it. I like zombies — but what I like even more is seeing people, maybe, get out of it. Persevering. (Oddly enough, this is also why I like the sequel-baiting scene at the end of horror movies, where the dead bad guy opens his eyes or twitches, or the camera pans over to an egg about to hatch with baby Godzilla or whatever, because it means the good guys didn’t completely win, either).

Another aside: Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD is the exception to this. In that, everyone dies but the ending had a point, and it made a hell of a statement. That didn’t happen with DAWN OF THE DEAD. Even the possible statement about consumerism and zombie-like behavior in a mall wasn’t taken as far as it could have.

Instead, during the credits, we see a montage of scenes where the food on the boat goes bad, tempers flare, gas runs empty — still all good. I can deal with this, because maybe maybe they’ll arrive somewhere, and they’ll get off, and there will still be a bit of ambiguity.

No.

They get off the boat and are killed by a billion zombies.

WTF? Why did I just bother with that movie? It’s like going to a hotel on the beach and ordering a porn to watch with the hubby and then choosing Teenage Sluts 15 or whatever, and then after paying $12.99 for it, you just get scenes where there’s penetration but no orgasm. Oh, and the actors are ugly and the moan-track really bad. WTF?

There has to be a payoff. Sometimes, yeah, characters are so unlikeable that the payoff (for me, at least) is their gruesome brain-eating death. In DAWN OF THE DEAD, for example, I was really rooting for the death of the TSTL chick who drives a truck across a parking lot filled with zombies to save a dog that isn’t in danger. So, you know, you’d think I’d be glad that she’s one of the people killed at the end.

But I wasn’t.

Luckily, however, ARMY OF DARKNESS was on right afterward. Nothing cleans the disgusted horror palate better than a bit of Ash.