amanda writes

writer strikes and book sluts

as those of you who have read some of my blogs before this will know i have a few things i covet or for lack of a snappier sounding word 'addictions'. californication is now hibernating for the winter, dexter is slowing killing all the bad guys in miami (thank you dexter for making my cold nights warm with sprays of blood and witty banter) and now the writings strike means that most of mediocre television on tv will be put on stand still.

so i have an idea. generally i hate tv - the bland, laugh tracked scenarios that have men playing either lotharios or losers, women who are either bitchy and successful or stupid and lovely to look at; so i suggest in this time of striking that we turn to the other writers in our lives - books books books and authors authors authors. Have you ever read to your your lover? seriously it can be great. way better than tv.

the nice things about books is unlike tv they make you look smart (okay not if it's a harlequin or a james patterson) and you can carry then around. very portable entertainment like a ipod of the past. They aren't on at certain times. they're available when you want them.

as the nights grow colder and the skies darker i tend to clutch my americanos a little closer and often find myself knee deep in feather pillows cracking open a new book to find something exciting, riveting, alarming and fresh; a new author or a new book.

Books would be in fact my real addiction; sometimes i don't even have to read them, i just have to have them. i would love to know a few people favorites. i'm always looking for those books that make a difference on your mind. you read a sentence once and you never look at coffee the same again (thanks mark helprin)
I love Ayn Rand, I read and loved Gone with The wind at age 12 (she captured a time) I like weird and different.

I don't like depressing books so oprah recommendations are generally not a great read unless you like stewing in abuse, mental defeciencies and people you'd like to smack because they always do the one thing they shouldn't. Just leave the dude already.

I also do not like any books that talk about shopping, or start, 'she stepped onto the street with a prada clad stiletto' if the author mentions this i'd like the next words to be, 'and then she proceeded to get hit by a m5 done in a custom gold paint.' i mean really who gives a fuck if it's prada or chanel. one girl who works for vogue, the rest of us want plot and character not branding.

so be a book slut. Put on some black high heel boots that make you feel like you have the ability to kick like a ninja, if you're a dude wear a manly pair not the pointy shit unless you can totally pull it off because you're so tough you've got wrecking balls not just balls. Walk into the book store like you mean business; don't look at the book unless you want to take her home, Pick her up, touch her a beat, maybe have a peek inside, does she have what it takes to keep you happy in bed?

Ah books...i love them and yes for any of the five year old reading if i could marry them i would....

a

any cool addictions to recommend?

Tis the season of getting together and making nice and being merry and so i have found myself knee deep in the dinner party season - a breeding ground for addictions really. Which mostly i like. I like cooking, I generally like eating and well talking, let's just say if my mouth isn't full it's usually moving.
So i had a couple over this weekend and their children for dinner and well that's about it. first i should state that they are my husband's friends not really mine and although i like them we've never really ever gotten past polite conversation except for one drunken night ten years ago when this friend of his told me women didn't enjoy sex, our discussion nearly ended in a fist fight over a bar table, it took my then boyfriend now husband two full man hands to hold me back. but you see that was before they got on the wagon and got boring.

So now that i'm older people are either getting divorced, jumping on the sobriety wagon, or entering rehab, none of which appears to be much fun. I'll admit i'm a control freak which is really why i get dexter but can't really understand why people can't stop drinking as an example. One night i can have a glass of red wine, one night i can have 12 vodkas and redbulls (yes i did puke) and then i may not drink for a few weeks and then i'll have a nice pinot grigio with a really lovely unpasturized cheese. This need to drink or need to have a cigarette or whatever i don't really get that, until this saturday...

So these guests arrive; to be supportive we decide it's a sparkling water night. No alcohol. I cooked for about five hours; before that i had braved crowded grocery stores and then went for a run. What i'm sayng here is that i had earned a drink.

They arrive, we chit chat and i realize that is what we wil do all night when we're not staring blankly at each other realizing that if they had not known eachother since kindergarten there is no way we'd hang - besides time we really don't have much in common. Then there's the kids. Mine are not angels but they're mostly well behaved. I should have been tipped off when my daughter came down crying and told me little blank wanted to decapitate her webkinz. I sent the poor thing back up the stairs for more stuffed animal slaughter. the one kid was what a polite person would call a real handfull what i would call a f*cking nightmare.

By the time they left which was early but felt late i was seriously counting how long it would take me to open the wine bottle.

which leads me to what i really wanted to talk about; addiction. i believe hank moody of californication is addicted to the idea of real love and perhaps even the nobility behind right and wrong, I believe Dexter is addicted to sex with the girl whose face doesn't move and the feeling that he gets when he kills; is it power, is it control is it finally feeling anything that might be a connection?

I think my one sister might be addicted to feeling shitty, that would explain the boyfriend anyway. I have a friend who is addicted to self help books and yet never seems willing to help anyone else let alone herself. I have a husband who is addicted to popcorn on sudnay afternoons and i in fact know that i am addicted to running. if i don't do it i start to feel out of control which is well kind of lame.

I think i need a 'cooler' addiction i mean excercise is so healthy that it barely seems to count. I paint weird painting with birds and fruit that no one else seems to get and i suppose they are in a way an addiction but really i feel vanilla. I couldn't have a food addiction it would make me crazy, coudn't do drugs just too seedy a group overall, couldn't do alcohol because well that's just gives away far too much power. Sex - too nineties for me Coffee? well yes i have to have one americano a day but does that really count? I've gone cold turkey before and I didn't really mind all that much.

Californication was an addiction before they tore it out of my life and now i'm left with Dexter who i enjoy but i'm unsettled -two 'normal' types told me it's their favourite show and now i'm scared Dexter will become the CSI or Desperate Houswives of next year. Too popular to be a cool addiction. Please Dexter do something that will annoy middle america.... PLEASE

Anyway with holidays coming up i suppose an eggnog addiction is a possibility but i hate eggs and milk, maybe i'll try something new and be a book addict or a word addict and use new words feverishing everyday.

Sure yes, i hope your day is perforated with haphazard glee! yep word addiction is lame too.
a

Cookie exchanges and swapping spit

In a decidedly Martha-esque move i have decided to host a cookie exchange. For those of you who don't know this is where you invite gals or men who like to bake (no i don't know any) and have them bring a bazzillion dozen of one type of fabulous cookie and all the invites do the same. then we exchange them and wrap them as gifts. LIke most traditions created in the middle of the united states suburbia this is really an excuse to leave the house, bring a few bottles of wine, tell your husband/boyfriend, kids, whatever that you're obligated to go and get slightly wasted in the middle of the week. good times really. it's only us 'good' types who feel we need an excuse or a background story to allow the inbibing of alcoholic beverages. i must be my early catholic upbrining and then to make it worse i discovered in my early twenties i was in fact part russian and part jewish - the guilt.

I am about as Crafty as Madonna comes across which for those of you who might think she knits those designer sweaters; she doesn't. My past history of craftiness means i know where to buy good crafts at competitive prices. While living overseas i managed to outsource almost all of my normal household tasks; laundry, ironing, cleaning, food preperation. Yep pathetic i know but i had heavy obligation like going to the gym and my writing, so now that i'm back in a big north american city i've decided i will start playing the social game. I'm not good at schmoozing; i'm far too honest for that instead my goal is simple; have fun.

So i will bake cookies, i will smile and more importantly i will serve lots and lots of wine.. which brings me back to highschool and dexter.

Highschool is the time of first, first drunk until you puke, first sex, first big humilation etc.

Dexter has just graduated to emotional highschool what he doesn't know is that he's sleeping with the school bitch. You know the one who says she preggers so that you'll buy her the diamond engagement ring and then 'losses' the baby and keeps the ring. Don't let the haughty british accent fool you; she's slippery.

Dexter has just had his first 'hot' sex which means he's pretty much going to listen to how high she wants him to jump and then he'll do it; for a time. The thing about highschool sex is that you realize when you're in highschool you don't always make the best choices.

He's picking fights with Doakes, he's writing manifestos which are now leading to 'law enforcement' which by the way was the biggest fucking leap i've ever seen on a television screen. Yeah he quotes everbody, he wanted a clusterfuck he must be from law enforcement. You see i would have thought clusterfuck and immediately said wow must be a politician. but hey what do i know....
i digress he's doing stuff that boys do when they're high on testosterone and sex. He thinks he's the baddest and the best when really he's just above a dog on the emotional train of life. Anyway i'm not worried graduation will be just around the corner and probably his biggest humiliation. Doakes aims for keeps.

So i'm calling it now. Tramp is going down; and i bet Rita or Rita and Dexter will be the ones to take her there.

As for the new lovey doveyness between fbi guy and debra, i'm kind of speechless. I think this is one of those cases where the idea of it is far more compelling then the reality of it. It kind of makes me itch to think of them together, in a rash like way. yes he's nice but them together. ick is what enters the mind...

okay well i have to pick a cookie recipe. one that's easy and i don't have to ice...looks martha without the martha work.

adios muchochos (sp)

Dexter needs a cleaning lady

I'm a PVR queen and this week i've been too busy so i finally go to watch Dexter on saturday afternoon from last week.
i have to say i am quite happy that dexter has finally although no intentionally dropped the single mom. she'd grown tedious to me and i think what will happen is that little miss pancakes with syrup will turn out to be martha with a very large dash of psyhco just to make the batter really rise. If she doesn't end up killing her mother by the end of this season, i'll bet my bottom dollar someone else will.

Those who have read before know that i've mentnionned that mr. fbi is cute. i meant that in a wooly sock kind of cuddly way but you don't wear those socks out of the house, they're for indoor hibernation only. Hence my problem with mr. fbi and debra about to get it on. is any one else getting the creepy vibe? I can see it now: they're at his rental place, she stands waiting naked probably doing something like a kid owith ADD, as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, finds a hanger and places it in the cupboard, then he takes off his pants and folds them neatly on a special pants hanger and puts them away, by this time she's ripping down the wall paper. He'll keep his socks on. He might even be skinnier than Debra. After they have missionary style sex, he'll put on his bathrobe over his striped flannel pajamas and then he'll make them both a warm milk or cup of cocoa. MMMM. hot.

speaking of which, finally dexter is getting some real action. yes she's hot, yes she's different, yes she was cool prodding dead people. i'm not sure i'm buying it. i think she might turn out to be the 'normal' girl . you know the one who pretends she does drugs, and she's wild and yeah sure she burned her x to death but it was by accident. Rita is the real deal crazy. a mom who made her insecurities swell into neurosis, a husband who smacked her and yelled and then said i love you bab, i didn't mean it. times that by a number of years and the pretense of marthicity and you have a recipe for Rita avenger for single abused moms everywhere. or she could just let her mom abuse her some more and find a new boyfriend with a real drug addiction.

so i think Dexter needs a cleaning lady. maybe latino and like him she likes things clean, she likes things wrapped in plastic and put in the fridge, can you imagine the chemistry...

a

how do you spell depressed - 'E.N.D.O.F.S.E.A.S.O.N'

okay you may or may not have ever had the inclination or savvy or frankly the time to watch californication, but you should.
I should state i see to be in the minority as a woman who enjoys this show. Apparently women started to like it and then after the 'she's going to blow' episodes a number fell away still carrying around the torch of sex is dirty and laughing at threesome dirty sex is worse - it's not their fault we know from nipple gate that nipples are evil and they can harm children so imagine what a girl blowing could do...blindness is my guess.

Now I am left with an empty feeling. after only 12 frickn weeks we're into reruns. now i'm stuck with the biggest loser, which seems suddenly like a show with big losers. and america's next top model which is at the very best a c level show. i watch it because it reminds me of how complicated people can be (sense the irony here). that and i love that little canadian gay guy with the highlighted hair he's briliant. i'm sad to say after watching several seasons i do believe there is a thing that makes a girl a 'super' model as opposed to just a girl. it's a unique combination of genetics that makes someone almost boy and girl but more girl with cheek bones you can swing from, little to no ass, little to no boob (let's hear it for small girls) and none of that silly need lurking in your brain telling you to do something meaningful with your life. that's it hold that pose, be fierce yes yes that's gorgeous. that's fufillment. No the urge for meaning comes later in life when you become an actress and a charity spokesperson.

anyway no more moody. no more hairless ladies, no more ugly short men who get hot gals. no more topless nuns or little men in boats. ugh. it's sad really. I sat on monday with my little glass of wine leaning forward as i waited with bated breath for the one half hour of my week that i can just sit and laugh. and it was the first episode AGAIN A RERUN. which is great but well i've seen it already. the blush is gone you know?

so instead when i'm not working or running my children around or gosh doing any of the thousand things we modern ladies are supposed to be doing to give our lives meaning i have watched cutewithchris.com. in a word crazy funny okay two words. i'm not a pet lover but even i will endure the cute kitten photos to see this guy's ironic rants.
good stuff and each episode is only about four minutes long so think of all the other stuff that you can do now that your not watching faked boobed women fall all over hank moody. yeah i know but i'm trying to deal.
a

where have all the good freaks gone?

this past weekend was one of those weekends that is sort of a blur of grabbed sleep, too much booze, dinner party food, and lots of sweat. uh it was good.
first i got had dinner with some supposed swingers; I heard rumours but truth be told i can't say for sure. What i can say is that she can cook and he knows his wine and i had a great time. they're great fun. not because i'm ever planning on swinger, i'm strictly a one guy kinda gal but they keep you on your toes, kind of like having a garden party in a mine field without the risk of losing a leg just your pants.

i got home close to three and remembered for a brief instance what i was like at about twenty three, then i fell asleep realizing i had to deal with two kids in the wee hours of the morn. fun times. I woke up and drank two gallons of water, did a shot of wheatgrass and then at fell back into bed. at 9:30 am i awakened feeling good enough that i actually managed to drag myself along for six km of running later in the day, because i had to wear my tight jeans and sexy top to hit my little bros bday party that night.

So i'll set the scene it's close to midnight we get into a hot bar that's just big enough to fit your friends but small enough to seem cool. I should mention here that i don't just like to dance, i love it. i also have little to no fear of embarassment. i'd moon walk if i felt the urge and wouldn't really care who was mocking me. it's all about the funness of the moment. this i think for most people is a freedom that comes with age. most of the younger girls glammed up, pushed out and squeezed in that night watched me with a combination of fear and misunderstanding. i was first having fun and second i let myself sweat.

anyway to the point of the column. in this crowd of at least a hundred or so people there were maybe three men who deserved a doube take or the fact that i shaved my armpits. Now clearly i'm not looking but hey i still look and i've got lots of friends who are single and i like to help out...
at one point three of us gals turned and looked at one guy and said, "is he 12?" he looked 12. he dressed like he was twelve and he had a haircut it looked like his mom might have imposed on him.
the tactic of the night was the 'dance around' you know the guy who is suddenly dancing around you, accidently hits your ass a few times then smiles as he says sorry and stops to introduce himself. styling. no. i don't want to meet someone this way. I only caught myself pointing and laughing at men three times during the night. not too bad.
My brothers thankfully have a full range of humilty and will do anything on the dance floor. on this occassion it including nipple rubbing (themselves) and doing the robot topless. oh yes they have mad skills. and by the end of the night they were drunk enough to share them with the world.
it seems to me using this mid to high end bar as a petri dish of modern love if i were a single girl i'd be fucking scared. seriously i'd be looking at mail order dudes.
first of all many guys are way too short, i'm not even going to get on the fat train but yeah there's that too. seeing a guy who's not quite thirty who looks more full in the bellyl than i was at eight months pregnant is hardly conducive to a possible first day, although i would reccommend the five factor diet or some green smoothies...
here's the thing all of them were fine, okay mediocre whatever not one of those guys made you pause and think man he's interesting... nothing.
they're so worried about fitting in that they don't stand out. there was one older guy almost a geek but not because he carried it with some charm and a great sense of humor and on top of that i had watched him sit in someone else's birthday cake and hey what can i say he handled cake on his ass with class.
so boys to men out there. be yourself, wear the weird shirt that you like, instead of dancing around that girl, worm yourself over to her. tell her a poem by Yeats as you stand by the bar, anything that isn't the standard.
my favourtie guy of the evening - friends tell me he's straight but he was wearing tight jeans with zippered pockets at the back with removable tassels. seriously and he could dance so it was a whole lot of shaking. anytime i was bored on the dance floor i'd just unzip and zip those zippers of his laughing the entire time. seriously a straight guy in tassled jeans???? can you see hank moody in tassled jeans. hmmm well maybe his agent...
have a good one.