Puttering along in my little white minivan.

It's not that the drive to Tallahassee is particularly difficult, just that it's LONG AS BALLS. (Do not question that simile.) Nearly three hours if you factor in that you're going to have to stop at least once. But the trip was rewarding, and the drive back was really kind of zen.

Tallahassee is an interesting part of Florida, because it has GEOGRAPHY. Hills and stuff. I mean I'm not impressed but I'm impressed. (Total flatlander here.) Around 7:45 or 8:00 on my drive back, my car crested a really high hill and in the light of the setting sun I could see what seemed like the whole world laid out in front of me, stretching towards an infinite horizon. The sky on Florida highways can feel really small because it's basically a two-lane road cut through a corridor of trees, but for about 45 seconds while I coasted down the hill I could enjoy that.

And then all I had to look forward to was the ridiculously dark stretch of road around 8:45 where I started hallucinating overpasses where there were none. That was fun. I started to suspect I was in the twilight zone for a while there but then the lights of the nearest gas station pulled me out of it.

Also I drove 150 miles on a quarter of a tank in my minivan. CRUISE CONTROL IS A MAGICAL INVENTION.

Had a conversation in which I was informed that it's nearly impossible for a girl to wind up in the friend zone. Clearly, I've been doing something wrong because it's the only place I'm capable of landing. Anyone have any thoughts on my improbable aiming skills? (Get me out of the friend zone. It's lonely here. That doesn't make me sound desperate, does it?)

Back to NYC in like five days. Bring it on. Can't wait to get back.

Doldrums

I feel like I hit this kind of blogging doldrums every summer where there's nothing terribly exciting going on in my life, so there's nothing terribly exciting for me to write about. Or else if there is stuff (which I guess there is?), it's nothing I feel is particularly appropriate to post on here. So it's really Catch-22.

I don't go back to NYC until September 3rd, but I'm practically counting down the days. I guess I picked a sort of inconvenient time to leave and there are some things I had to drop for three weeks that I really hope I can pick back up from where I left off. And if not?

Phbbt, well, that was dumb of me.

Sometime in the next week and a half I need to type a summary of the play I want to write next semester, and maybe one other. I feel like I'm kind of copping out because every semester I go in /knowing/ which idea I'm going to actually pursue, and I still need to put in another one, so I have the same play that I keep pitching over and over again that I never, ever plan to write because there's so much about the world I haven't figured out and don't want to figure out but its' one of those ideas that is roughed out in such a way that it sounds like I actually put work in...?

But really I just want to write about superheroes next semester.

Time to get back to the city, but it's still a week and a half away.

Also my mom called the house at 7:40 this morning and woke me up and I generally can't get back to sleep if I get woken up after 7 AM so grrrr. :|

An intermission about Dinosaurs

And in the fading light, the long shadows looked like Dinosaurs brought back to life for a single moment - and then turning disappearing into the gathering dusk.

------------

Started work on something new (NOT about dinosaurs). Need to do revisions on Dog in Space but figure I have a few weeks until school starts. Back in Jacksonville which is actually a relief although mostly because it means I'm out of that horrible dorm room.

Moving back up on September third... and then exciting things will happen. (I hope.)

I went to the AMNH on my last day in NYC because a friend really wanted to see the exhibit about "The Largest Dinosaurs." So we did and it was pretty sweet! And there were also fossils and taxidermy walruses for all. Because what else do you need than taxidermy walruses and fossilized ground sloths? Nothing, I tell you!

Also it was pointed out to me that the life-size blue whale is suspended from the ceiling by a single point on its back. WHAT. WHAT. DEVIL MAGIC.

Okay, off to more doctors appointments, because that seems to be all I do when I'm home in Jacksonville. :|

More thoughts on female characters in superhero movies

SPOILERS AHOY.

Dear Captain America,

THIS IS HOW IT'S DONE. You know how back in my Green Lantern review I was like "Carol is an awesome character when she's first introduced but sometime during act two/act three she gets turned into someone completely useless" ? Well, I see your supposedly-competent romantic interest and I raise you one badass british science officer. Peggy Carter is what all superhero movie love interests hope they can be. The people at the Bechdel Test can argue all they want about the dancing girls and their upskirt shots (which I honestly saw as an homage to the time period), but my primary focus on this blog when I get to ranting is love interests who are or are not fully developed characters in their own right. The Nostalgia chick has a term for it with a witty acronym and it's something like Love Interest Superfluous to Plot (LISP?) but here, I'm just going to go down the list and think of all the reasons why Peggy is such a cool character (or at least I thought so).

1. She's smart.
2. She's a woman in a male-dominated profession... and still gets shit done. Even in the military during world war II. Like, it's one thing to tell us your female character is an officer. It's another to actually have her go toe-to-toe with a superior and get what she wants because of sheer pluck and determination and not because she flashed him her tits.
3. She is more than capable of Punching You In The Face.
4. She knows how to handle a firearm, and rather than sitting back at base moping manages to help storm the Big Bad's base as part of a fucking assault team.
5. Her and Steve/Captain America's love story is really sweet. Someone got their ratios right, because it doesn't feel like a romantic plot tumor. This was actually something I really thought was kind of refreshing, was the total lack of emphasis on sex in this movie. It's been pointed out that nowhere between 98-lb weaking Steve and (SPOILERS) Down With the Plane Captain America does the hero find time to bed his love interest - and that's okay, because they spend most of the movie playing on this awesome romantic tension where he's still this awkward kid from Brooklyn at heart and she's too classy a dame to throw herself at him, which goes a long way to show that just because he's got the body of a hunk he's still the same person deep down. I really enjoyed that Captain America really has these "Greatest Generation" values and not this modern idea of oversexed masculinity, because that would have probably just turned him into another super-powered douchebag (CoughGreenLanternCough)
6. The way she's written, there's a lot of things she does that could just as easily been filled by some kind of male supporting character, even with very little changes made to the overall script (Well, at the expense of the love story, which would be a pity to lose). However, I don't think the movie would work as well if she were just another soldier - there's the Men In Uniform Maximum, and once you go over that line all of your characters get kind of muddled. Probably why all of the Captain's strike team have such distinct appearances - they get ethnicities instead of names because if he had a platoon of white guys, we'd never learn their names AND we wouldn't be able to tell them apart. Stock the hero's team full of tokens, and they're still tokens but at least we can have a favorite character and get attached to them because we can TELL THEM APART.  The fact alone that Peggy is the only woman in this male-dominated environment... and she's there as a capable member of the team, whose capableness is never for a second diminished... is a huge part of her character.
7. The actress is listed next to a picture of Rosie the Riveter in the credits. Which given they were using old War Propaganda posters for their credit design in general was a nice touch. I'm sure someone out there is rolling their eyes, but seriously.

Basically, it's not enough to present a female character in a male occupation to make the audience buy her competence - it's all about what you do with the character, and really it seems like there are two directions to go with this: turn her into a screaming damsel, or continue to prove her competence. She is in that position because she earned it, and she probably had to work harder to get there than the men she's working with. Your female lead is not just a pair of tits, and if you're writing her as such it's probably indicative of a much bigger problem.

There's also the matter of emotional investment in a love story. What I think makes the romantic subplot in Captain America work so well is that it's always there, but at the same time it's seamless. In the final action sequence, who is the captain talking to? Peggy. And it makes the emotional stakes of the scene so much higher than if he were just talking to one of his commanding officers. Why? Because we're invested in this relationship, and we want them to get their dance. If we weren't invested in it, the movie's last line wouldn't have any emotional resonance at all. But then you realize... Peggy is probably dead of old age, and you're like, "Holy fucking shit, this is tragic" and want to hug Captain America.

Contrast this to Green Lantern where Blake Lively just disappears for the whole final act of the movie and you can probably understand why no one had any kind of emotional reaction to Green Lantern besides "I spent my money to see this shit?"

I caved and cleaned it up.

The smell made me gag multiple times.

This is unacceptable.

Behave like an adult.

Also you stole my spoon out of the sink, kept it in your room for four days, and just put it back today. Our silverware looks nothing alike.

And people wonder why I keep my dishes in my room.

No love.

The pot is still on the counter.

I don't want to live on this planet anymore.

Eeeeeeeew

So let's talk about disgusting things in this dorm room kitchen. Like that there's less than a square foot of usable counter space, and less than a square foot of room in the fridge, and I keep my dishes in my bedroom.

Or we could just talk about this.

This is a pot of greasy noodles, old cheese, and rancid meat that my suitemate cooked for herself four dinner AT LEAST four days ago. It sat on the stovetop for at least four days, and then she came home earlier today and MOVED IT but did not dump it out. I dared to SMELL this shit earlier and it has gone terribly, terribly wrong.

HELLO, HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LIVING IN A DORM FOR TWO YEARS. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THAT THIS STUFF NEEDS TO BE REFRIGERATED OR IT SPOILS? 

I AM DISGUSTED.

EVERY DAY THAT IT SITS OUT, I AM JUDGING YOU.

I CANNOT WAIT TO MOVE OUT ON SATURDAY, BECAUSE AT LEAST I WILL NOT BE LIVING IN THIS STYE THAT THESE GIRLS CREATED BEFORE I EVEN GOT HERE.

Radio silence

Because I have a ten to fifteen page term paper due thursday.

Or because I have to be completely moved out of my dorm room by noon on saturday, even though my flight home isn't until 8:59 that night.

Or because I have a final later this week.

Or because my cousin had a baby and I'm spending all my time looking at pictures on facebook and grinning.

Or because tumblr is addicting.

Or because I've been trying to write.

Or because I can't think of anything worthwhile to document on my blog.

Or because I swear I really am planning to get back to this later I just don't know when.

In which: my nerd flag flies

So I was telling a friend about how I'm working on a project for this archeology course I'm in, and she, jokingly, asks, "Do you have an Indy hat yet?"

And I'm about to say no, when all of a sudden I realize.... Actually, yes. I do have an Indiana Jones hat. I bought it in high school before I was even remotely interested in Anthropology.

Luckily she thought it was awesome. Even if I was slightly embarrassed to admit I own such a thing. (I wore it all week at International Thespian Festival one year. My drama teacher, upon seeing it, either called me "a dork" or "hopeless" or both. I don't quite remember.)

I might just have to dig it out and wear it more often. :< Let the nerd flag fly, right?