Tags
espresso makers, Hollywood elitism, middle of the novel, pumpkin spice latte, Roman Polanski, status updates, writing
Not that there’s all that much going on in The Life Of Me, but I figure posting these now and then keeps me motivated.
I think. Maybe. It’s been a slow week, what can I say?
1) Passed 50K on the WIP. Still slogging through Dead-Center-Middleland, still groping for direction and doubting most of the words I put down, but I’m making decent time (by my standards) all the same. This is gonna be a weird one: I’ve never written hard-core metaphysical shit before, and I keep having to stop to read theory.
I chose to call this research instead of procrastination. Don’t burst my bubble.
2) Did you know you can make your own pumpkin spice latte? Very nice. All you need is an espresso maker with a steamer (worth the money with or without the pumpkin spice option, really), 2% milk, pumpkin spice from the store, and some vanilla extract. Put a teaspoon of vanilla and half a teaspoon of the spice in the milk before you steam it, and voila! Beautiful. And very fall. I’m thinking of putting some spice in the espresso grounds before brewing tomorrow morning. We’ll see how that goes.
3) Moment of Seriousness (warning, warning)! This whole celebrities-rallying-behind-Roman Polanski thing is really, really starting to piss me off. I know there’s supposed to be a double standard for the speshul Hollywood elite, who can drive drunk, shoot up, flash punanny, and scream racial slurs in public without more than a month or two of wrist-slaps at worst… but since when do we defend people who drug and rape thirteen year old girls? I don’t care about the “shades of gray” in this case that everybody is throwing up as an excuse, I don’t care how long ago it was, I don’t care about the screw-ups that may or may not have happened in the original arrest, and I don’t care about his illustrious career or his past. Let’s just assume that a grown man knows that there’s something inherently fucked up about feeding quaaludes and booze to a kid and then screwing her, no matter what the circumstances are. Let’s assume that no matter how special and talented and connected you are, you don’t get to just get away with that one. And if there’s something to be said in his defense, a possibility I’m not going to discount even though I’m so disgusted it’s hard to think about it –well, then let it be said in court.
So: Whoopee, Woody, Wes, Martin and the rest of you extra-special people that forgot famous and culpable aren’t mutually exclusive concepts, please STFU now, okay? I like TV. I like movies. I even like reading Entertainment Weekly now and then. But nobody gets a get-out-of-trial free pass just for being on the other side of the goddamn camera lens.
/rant. Sorry, folks. I’ve been sitting on that one for a while now.