Archive for April, 2012

It doesn’t rain…

April 23, 2012

It’s the change of seasons here at my latitude.  This means a lot of things.  Some changes at work, but mostly, the change of clothes and spring cleaning.

This year, it’s been particularly frustrating because while there have been days so warm and lovely, it’s  like a gift from the universe, the weather switches back horribly.  This happens right after I have gotten out the spring clothes, laundered and prepped the winter clothes for storage.  Then winter comes back with all the cold and damp and I have to get the winter stuff back out again.  It’s  something I’m just doing to myself, I realize.  But having my front hall covered with clothing for every 5-degree variation between freezing and summer, wet and dry, is driving me crazy.  I’ve got to clear things out – one way or another.

As for the spring cleaning angle – well.  I realize in the winter, I, and therefore my family, live in shameful conditions.  I have been cleaning all weekend (with breaks because honestly, I am no machine) and geez.  There’s a reason nobody except other people with young children come over.  I figure I have a couple more days (all day) of cleaning to make things liveable.  I’m not terribly fond of cleaning, but the realization of how bad it can get is a really powerful motivator.

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Guilty, for lovin’ you

April 14, 2012

Oh, man.  I am so guilty.   My current guilty pleasure is a piece of fanfic that is so terrible, I can’t bear to mention it because I’m afraid of the judgements of other people.  But it makes me laugh so hard and I want to write the author and ask if that’s what they meant to do – because if it is, it is genius.  Poorly edited, unspell-checked, poorly punctuated, run-on genius.

I’ve read it a bunch of times already, and found pleasure in each reading.  It’s not my thing – nothing of what is written is my thing – the kinks, the power differential, the terrible out-of-character characterizations, the complete vocalizations of every single sound they make while making out.  None of that works for me.  And yet, as whole, it kills me.  I don’t understand my reaction to this piece.  It might be good, it might be terrible, and it just might be so awesome, my only available reaction is astonishment and laughter.

Of course, it being fanfic, I can’t be bothered to read the stuff they’ve written that’s not within my fandom to check to see if this is genius carries through to other writing.  (Although I’ve read a bunch of their original characters with no ill effects.)

I wish I could share, but I just can’t.  You’ll just have to believe me on this one.   (Don’t worry.  It’s not you.)

my very own private oedo

April 2, 2012

So I watched the entire run of an anime series called “Miracle Train: Welcome to the Oedo Line.”  It’s a little embarrassing to admit how much I enjoyed it.  The premise, frankly, is a bit out there.  Embodiments of various train stations on a particular train line in Tokyo try to solve the problems of women riders.  The embodiments are, naturally, beautiful men – each following a particular stereotype (the young one, the serious one with glasses, the flirty popular one, etc.) based on some  actual trait of the train station (i.e. the first station opened is the leader and also where the government offices are located).

I’m just going to lay it out there.  I wondered if I could watch this with my train-loving son.  So I watched it.  Conclusion: my son may not be a wild fan, but for me, I was kind of flabbergasted.  How could a series conform to all my tastes?  How do they know?  Beautiful men, check.   Wanting only to help me, check.  Factoids about travel and transportation and local color, check.  Discussions of food, check.  Heartwarming domestic stories, check.  Interesting story twists, check.  Historical dress episode, check.  Ability to make fun of itself, double check.  It moved along a bit slowly, but still.  I loved it.

I have a whole idea of how to move this series into New York City’s subway system.   Maybe moving a little past helping to solve women’s problems, maybe helping to solve other problems in the city.  But, because this is America, the aesthetics are different.  You’d not have such beautiful men, so much as more rugged types, the kind who wear Timberlands while they play basketball.  Still, very attractive.  And because this is New York City, there’d be all sorts of ethnicities and accents.

Maybe each of the stations would come from different lines.  It would be a bit difficult because the stops aren’t named quite like they seem to be in Japan.  But here we go.  There’d be a museum stop (American Museum of Natural History comes to mind and he’d be called AMNH or just named “Roosevelt”, but the Cloisters stop might be okay) who’s a little nerdy but tremendously energetic, there’d be Chinatown who is serious but plays a mean game of basketball, Little Italy who is kinda goodfella-like, Harlem who is awesome and fun and plays basketball with Chinatown, City Hall who is wonky, Wall Street who is a bit of a pretty boy, some stop along Park or 5th avenue, Broadway, Chelsea who is a little beefy but looks great in leather pants, it could go on and on.  There would be an episode with some conflict of the Sandhogs, and another with Grand Central Station and rivalries with ferries and buses and other train lines, or maybe one station closing, or historical trains (“Take the ‘A’ Train” as performed by the Duke Ellington band would be playing), or the transportation museum, or the hidden and unused subway tunnels that show up in myth, or feature Central Park.  There would be discussions of what the food and entertainment and landmarks are like around each stop.

(Actually, it sounds kind of like “Law and Order” or “CSI: New York” but without all the murder and crime and stuff.)

Welcome to my fantasy: “Miracle Subway – Yo!  Welcome to NYC.”