50 Shades Enraged

I read and review Fifty Shades Freed so you don't have to.

It's gotten to the point where I am now doing actual work in order to avoid reading, writing, or thinking about this book. I am also concerned about not being funny any more because I am so weary and sad from reading this that I'm struggling to even find the rage. At least I was until I read Chapter 11.

The chapter opens with Ana returning home from her day at work to a confrontation with Christian over why he flew home early from New York. It was, he says, because she went back on her word about staying in that night. "Is that how you see it?" she asks him with genuine fucking surprise, before explaining she didn't break her promise, she merely CHANGED HER MIND, because she's a woman and therefore has to behave like an ignorant, inconsiderate douchebucket by simple biological imperative. Holy fuck, NO, Ana, if you PROMISE to do something and then turn around and immediately do the EXACT OPPOSITE of that, THEN YOU HAVE GONE BACK ON YOUR FUCKING WORD. That is how that works, and while we're at it, how about not throwing your entire gender under the bus to justify the fact that you are a MASSIVE UNWIPED ASSHOLE.

The conversation goes on, I can't be bothered to get into the stupid details, and continues over food in the kitchen which involves a great deal of Christian spitting wine into her mouth (backwashing - the sexiest way to serve beverages!) and afterward he takes her into the playroom for the sex scene I had been warned previously would enrage me. It didn't disappoint on that front. Christian attaches her to some restraints on the wall and then starts systematically winding her up and then stopping right before she comes. Orgasm denial, in my opinion anyway, is SUPER FUCKING AWESOME. It is something that is next to impossible to do to yourself, especially to the degree it reaches in this scene, and it builds you to a point of intensity you would be hard pressed to get to on your own. It is sort of a gift in that way. It doesn't necessarily have to be about D/s either - plenty of people incorporate this to some degree into their play whether they otherwise have an interest in kink or not. Ana doesn't see it that way, however, and she safewords to get him to stop. My reaction to that was specific to my own experience and basically amounted to ARE YOU CRAZY? YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE BEST PART YOU TWATSICLE. But that's my own preference and therefore not something to get enraged about. Everyone doesn't like the same things and if orgasm denial isn't Ana's cup of tea that's fine for her. What I got enraged about was her (and by extension E.L. James') reasoning. She didn't safeword because she wasn't enjoying herself, she did it because she saw it as some kind of sinister plot. "This is not love. This is revenge." she thinks to herself. She follows this up with statements about how callous a thing that is to do to someone, and reminding Christian that she is not his submissive (she's his WIFE! They are mutually exclusive!) and to stop treating her like one. As for Christian, well, Ana is right, he WAS deliberately being awful to her to punish her for worrying him the day before. Of course he was, that is the only reason why someone would want to do this. Orgasm denial is a tool of vengeance and is only ever used by VICIOUS HATEFUL MONSTER PEOPLE WHO ARE EMOTIONALLY DAMAGED. Not only that, but Christian's aftercare is absolutely fucking atrocious. He spends just about all of it trying to justify his going too far - she is just so frustrating that he couldn't help himself. The fact that she's been hurt is ALL HER FAULT. SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO? Every single word in this entire scene is wrong, wrong, wrong in the greatest way it could possibly have been wrong, and I am sick and tired of reading scenes like this that vilify and fundamentally misunderstand BDSM and its practitioners in a book that is allegedly about exploring one's kinks. FUCK YOU, JAMES. I WANT TO USE THIS BOOK TO GIVE YOU A THOUSAND PAPER CUTS AND THEN DROWN YOU IN A BATHTUB FULL OF LEMON JUICE (note to Mrs. Sizemore: We should totally make this a level in Shiv and Lemon) YOU DISGUSTING, MISINFORMED CUNT YODELER.

GOD.

Anytwat, in Chapter 12, we learn a little bit more about Christian, in that he wasn't born in Seattle, he was born and subsequently adopted in Detroit, which coincidentally is where Jack Hyde is also from, except since this author is fucking insane and also foreshadows everything, it's going to turn out not to be a coincidence at all. In fact, at first I thought Jack Hyde might turn out to be Christian's birth father, but he's not old enough. Still in bed in the playroom, Ana and Christian have the same tiresome conversation they've had a thousand times about how he needs to be less controlling and she needs to be less defiant, and they both continue to lie to themselves and each other about how they are going to change their ways. Afterwards they fall asleep for a while until Ana awakes to the sound of Christian having a nightmare. She wakes him up and they fuck immediately in order to solve the problem, as you do. Then they go back to bed in their own bedroom, only for Ana to wake up again at 3 in the morning because Christian is not in the bed. The ability of both of these people to be hyper aware of their surrounding environment while asleep is astounding. She finds him at the piano again, playing a sad song and wonders whether she's done something to upset him (while she was sleeping?!?) like a good little abuse victim. She hasn't; he's upset because he dreamed that Ana was dead and now that he's awake his whole world is crumbling around him because WHAT IF SHE DIES? When I was in Florida a couple weeks ago, I dreamed that one of my best friends and the kindest human I know shot me in the head in cold blood. I was a little disturbed when I woke up, but I didn't run to the police and get a restraining order because IT WAS JUST A FUCKING DREAM, NOT A PREDICTION OF THE FUTURE. When they wake up the next day, all is well between them again and Christian decides they should go to Aspen for the weekend. And since Ana had recently complained that she never gets to see her friends, he has invited Kate and Elliot, and also Ethan and Mia to accompany them. I notice that these are the two friends she has who happen to be dating his siblings and are therefore on some sort of "approved" friend list - Jose, of course, is not among the group. They are taking Christian's private plane, natch, and Ana bristles when she sees Natalia, the flight attendant. "Why does she make me uncomfortable?" Ana wonders. "Maybe it's that she's a brunette. By his own admission, Christian doesn't usually employ brunettes because he finds them attractive." No, Ana, she makes you uncomfortable because every single person who has a vagina makes you uncomfortable since you are a lunatic who sees sex crazed vagina monsters trying to fuck your husband around every corner. And really, Christian? You have to employ only blondes to avoid seducing and/or raping your entire staff? I find it weird that you have so little self control that you simply can't hire brunettes, especially since you maintain such stringent control over every single other facet of your life. Also, I suspect the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission might like a word with you about the basis of your hiring decisions.

During the flight, Kate has the nerve to ask Christian questions about the whole Jack Hyde business, which he answers while getting steadily more angry with her, and while Ana sits next to him in terror because oh no, what if Kate's questions upset him? I think to myself that he could always just, you know, decline to talk about it, but this is now how life works in E.L. James' magical fairyland of crazypants nonsense - he has to keep answering questions he doesn't want to answer because he has to be angry constantly, and Ana has to ask a completely irrelevant question about Hyde's age (32) because Christian has to have a jealous freak out that his wife had even a single thought that wasn't about him. Is this woman really an actual functioning member of society? Because she writes like she's never interacted with another human being in her entire life. Nell would do a better job at writing interpersonal communications than E. L. James for crying out loud.

The group lands in Aspen and heads for Christian's (and also Ana's as he points out CONSTANTLY) house, a scene which is mindbogglingly over-described, and contains a conversation about how Christian is never going to teach Ana to ski lest she Sonny Bono herself, and Ana's fucking insane musings on the fact that Gia Matteo remodeled the house, and ohmigod what does it mean? This entire chapter is pointless and only exists in order to foreshadow the STUNNING (No. Not even. Shut up, James) event on its final page, which I can't imagine has anything to do with the overall "plot" of the "story". By the time James is done bludgeoning her readers over the head with gigantic hints about what is about to happen, the final scene reads like a punchline to a very dull joke. So, LET THE FORESHADOWING BEGIN! Hey, did you guys notice that something weird seems to be going on between Kate and Elliot? Ana did! She has no idea what it is. Are they fighting? Should she meddle in shit that's not her fucking business ask? Let's keep reading and see! Christian takes Ana on a tour of the (their!) house, during which she mentions how uncomfortable it makes her that Gia did work on the house and that Elliot used to fuck her, as if any of those things are some kind of predictor of how nice their weekend will be. Christian, for reasons unknown (oh who am I kidding, the reason is that James is barely literate and lacks any ability to tell a compelling story), tells her that in actually, Elliot has fucked not just Gia but half of Seattle. She's shocked because Elliot is so innocent looking! How can a man that looks like a choirboy have ever had sex with (gasp!) multiple people? Ana, if a person's looks were any sort of indication of how much sex they were having, then Ron Jeremy wouldn't have a career. Jesus you're annoying. Anyway, now Ana is concerned because ohmigod does Kate even know? And ohmigod what does it mean? Let's keep reading and see!

At lunch, the group makes some decisions about how to spend the day. The girls are going shopping even though two thirds of them aren't big on shopping but no one can ever resist Mia! The boys are going fishing because THAT IS SOMETHING MEN DO. But wait! Elliot needs to go buy a watch battery first. Which is a weird thing to be sorting out during a weekend in Aspen, but whatever. I ASSURE YOU THIS IS NOT A CLUE. Also Elliot seems sort of distracted. I wonder why? Let's keep reading and see! The girls go shopping and Mia has Ana buy a cocktail dress the size of a napkin for clubbing later. Then, while Mia and Kate try on their own selections, Ana has a little peer out the window. AND GUESS WHAT SHE SEES? She sees Elliot going into the jewelry store that is conveniently for this asinine story located directly across the street from where they are shopping! I wonder if maybe he went to the jewelry store looking for that watch battery? Or maybe for some other reason? Let's keep reading and see! OH NO! You guys! When he comes out of the jewelry store, who does he happen to be with but GIA MATTEO! They exchange a completely chaste and unsuspicious goodbye, which makes Ana extremely suspicious. What is he doing with THAT BITCH? What is she doing in Aspen? Is he having an affair? Is this a pathetic red herring thrown in by James to throw us off the trail? Should she tell Kate? Just what in the actual fuck is going on here? LET'S KEEP READING AND SEE!

After shopping, Ana finally asks Kate what the shit is going on. Kate doesn't know. Elliot seems really distracted lately. By the way, she is in love with him. Like "let's get married and make tons of babies" in love (which Ana describes as her "happily ever after" because it is completely impossible to live a complete and fulfilled life without a husband and a litter of spawn. Duh). His preoccupation is a mystery. NO REALLY, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S ABOUT TO HAPPEN. They manage to run out of wood for the fire, and Ana goes to the garage to get more where she runs into none other than...Elliot Grey! Oh no! What should she do? Should she confront him about what she saw? Demand that he explain what's happening with Kate? Mind her own goddamn business and shut the fuck up? Say nothing, but think judgmental thoughts about how anyone who has had sex with more than one person is obviously a terrible human being who can never, ever be trusted? She goes for the last one while having a conversation about whether or not she should ride a  trail bike.

When the other boys get home from fishing (Elliot never made it; he had "things to take care of" in town, WHAT DOES IT MEAN?), Ana and Christian go upstairs to take a bath, where Ana confronts him about having seen Gia in town...with Elliot. Christian informs her Gia also has a place in Aspen and reiterates that she and Elliot are just friends now. For realsies. He knows there's nothing going on - Elliot is way into Kate. "In fact, I know he's pretty stuck on her," Christian says with real conviction, almost like he knows something we don't know. Does he? Let's keep reading and see!

Ana gets dressed in her napkin and the stripper heels she also bought at Mia's insistence and then asks Christian for his approval. I had written in my notes when she bought the dress that he would never let her wear that out of the house, based on his freaking out in the past that she wore a sundress out of the house on a sunny day, completely forgetting for a moment that the characters James writes can never be expected to behave in the way she has previously established. He's not exactly happy that his wife's back and legs are exposed in a way that ANYONE could look at, but she looks beautiful, so it's cool.

The story cuts to a scene in the restaurant they've chosen for dinner that evening. As they wait for dessert, Ana notices that Elliot seems sort of nervous, laughing too loud and saying things that are slightly weird. Oh no! Have they had a fight? Was it over that red herring woman? LET'S KEEP FUCKING READING SO WE CAN SEE AND END THIS TEDIOUS ABORTION OF A CHAPTER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

Suddenly, in a COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED MOVE THAT EVEN SYLVIA BROWNE DIDN'T SEE COMING, Elliot gets out of his chair, drops to one knee, and GUESS WHAT YOU GUYS? NO I MEAN IT GUESS. YOU ARE GOING TO BE SO FUCKING SURPRISED I SWEAR TO FUCK. IT IS, LIKE, THE CRAZIEST PLOT TWIST EVER WRITTEN. He gets down on one knee and proposes to Kate! I KNOW RIGHT? And on that bombshell, the chapter ends.

I wish there was a safeword I could use to make this book stop torturing me.

Better Shit To Read Than That Twilight Fanfic Fucking Nonsense

Many people have been asking me, "Amber, if we shouldn't be reading Fifty Shades of Grey to make our naughty parts tingle, what should we be reading instead?" The thing is, I can't actually answer that for you because you know a lot better than I do what you like in your word porn. I can tell you what I like, and you can go check that out, or not, as the mood strikes you but if, say, you are really digging tentacle porn this afternoon, my suggestions aren't going to be a whole lot of help to you. You might want to just google that.

Having said that, I've given a lot of thought to what sorts of things I've read that might appeal to people for reasons similar to why this book piece of shit apparently appeals to people, and I've made you guys a list. Keep in mind that most of my suggestions aren't going to be for novel length erotica. For the most part, I tend to read collections of short stories instead. This is just a personal preference. I find that on the whole, for writing of that length, either the plot suffers or the sex does. Or I just have a really short masturbatory attention span (ok, fine, it's probably this). The longest suggestion I have is the erotica classic Story Of O. It is the quintessential BDSM novel, but as such, might be a bit much for people who aren't looking for something as hard core as that, such as Christian Grey, who listed "permanent marking of the body" as a hard limit in his (never signed) contract, so probably won't be terribly down with the scene where O gets branded. An easier read for him might be He's On Top: Erotic Stories of Male Dominance and Female Submission, a collection of short D/s stories edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. There is a companion book to that one featuring the opposite situation: She's on Top: Erotic Stories of Female Dominance and Male Submission, which I haven't read, but I suspect is just as good (or maybe better if you love reading about pegging).

If it's not BDSM you're after, and you're just looking for erotica aimed at and/or written by women, you could do worse than the Best Women's Erotica series, an annual collection of short stories edited by Violet Blue (I couldn't find the 2012 version on Amazon for some reason, but here's 2011, and here's where you can preorder 2013). And as long as we're on the subject of Violet Blue, she has also edited a series of books featuring fantasies for couples, including Taboo, which I ran to my living room to read after the first sex scene in Fifty Shades just to make sure that I still enjoy sex. I was genuinely concerned E. L. James had permanently destroyed my sex drive.

Of course there are also tons of sex blogs out there in internetland, including my own. But since I can't really link to that here as it would defeat the entire purpose of my having separated it from Bizzybiz in the first place (you are welcome to try to find it, but good luck with that - my friend Fish has been trying to find it off and on for years without much luck, and he knows me better than most people), I can instead recommend Pussy Talk, Easily Aroused, Remittance Girl, The Erotic Writer, and the incomparable Monmouth who I know in real life and who is also very good at finding delicious beer and/or snacks. I also follow mega porn star James Deen on Twitter, but his tweets aren't really that sexy and seem to be mostly related to him dressing up as a baby panda, though he does post links to his blog and photos of who he banged on camera that day.

Hopefully you'll find something on this list to interest you (or you were sucessful at your tentacle porn googling) and that it will keep you occupied until the reviews for the next book start, which I'm hoping will be next week, since my roommate, my lover AND my partner in fun Mrs. Sizemore will all be out of town and I am otherwise going to be BORED AS FUCK. And boring as fuck, unless you want to spend the week reading stories about my cat vs. the vacuum and how I can have ice cream and cookie dough for dinner since the bartender won't be here to stop me. Right, I didn't think so.

An Entire Day Of Nerdery

Today I am recovering from both advanced burlesque class yesterday (when Michelle said the warm ups were "a little different" from beginner class apparently what she meant was "will kill you") and the preceding 24 hours of excessive geekery for which I actually want to shove myself in a locker.

It all started with a random thought that I should google "sexy geek clothes" because of some vague idea I'd had while falling asleep of stripping dressed as a TARDIS and ending up in pasties shaped like bow ties because bow ties are cool. I did, and eventually the rabbit hole of clicking on things led me to this which I immediately tweeted to Mrs. Sizemore and then bought for myself because I read comic books now. This happened on Tuesday afternoon at work, which is I'm sure when you buy all of your nerdtastic garter belts so shut up (BrownsFan, please forget that you read this sentence. Thanks). After that I went home and watched a show I had DVRed called "The Science of Sexual Attraction" while I waited for the hockey to start, the theme of the day apparently being "I AM GOING TO CRAM SEX INTO ALL MY NERD SHIT UNTIL IT FITS WHICH KIND OF ALSO REMINDS ME OF SEX".

The next thing I knew I woke up and it was Wednesday. Last weekish, Mrs. Sizemore had tricked me into buying comic books, which I read, and then realized that if I don't buy the rest of them I will not find out how the story ends which is not ok. So naturally I asked her if I could tag along on her weekly trip to the comic book store and pick up the next three issues. It was the opening she seemed to have been waiting for, because on the train ride over she launched into a list of other comics I should be reading and why, which translated in my head as "words words words. Words. Words words Batman words words."

At the comic book store we found all the Avengers vs. X-Men issues I needed and I asked Mrs. Sizemore what other ONE book I should pick up and start reading. "Ok, well when you were reading AvX, were you thinking there needed to be more fight scenes?"

"I was thinking about which cosplay character I wanted to be," I answered her which is a) true and b) probably the nerdiest thing I've ever said. We ended up not getting me any other books because she thinks I should wait for the trades to come out (which is when they take all the comics from a series and put them all together in one book and I knew what she was talking about because I know this lingo now and who am I?). Then she went to the counter to get her pulls for the week (which is when the comic book store takes all the different books you buy every week and sets them aside for you because they know you are coming). In case you weren't already sure that she is insane, this is roughly about 30 comic books that she buys every week.

Pulls acquired, we decided to browse the toy section to see if there was anything there we "needed". She bought a mini bat signal for her desk, whilst my eyes fell on a toy that so defies logic I absolutely HAD to own it. It's a toy Dalek from Dr. Who. A plushie toy Dalek. For those of you who are not Whovians (most of you?), the Daleks are a race of basically robots of hate. The hatey robots roll around trying to kill everything that isn't a Dalek (except for when the new Daleks decided to kill the old Daleks because they were obsolete but that's not really my point) and yelling "EXTERMINATE!" in hatey robot voices. So a plushie version of this is probably the most ridiculous and incongruous toy ever manufactured. Or as Mrs. Sizemore succinctly put it "'Cuddly as a Dalek' is not an expression". There's now a squishy Dalek sitting on my desk that I periodically pick up and hug and it yells "EXTERMINATE!" at me and I am in love.

All this comic book and Dr. Who tomfoolery made our little nerd brains tired, so we and the two other ladies we were with went across the street for some lunch. As well rounded nerds we are all reading and/or watching Game of Thrones because of course we are, and at some point this turned into a lively debate about whether or not Mrs. Sizemore is a Lannister since she plots things a lot. We decided neither after I made her tell the story about extorting money out of her siblings when she was a child by forcing them to pay her a toll every time they went in the hallway, whereupon Sarah rightly declared that she is obviously a Frey and we should probably all start calling her Walder.

The conversation was hilarious and I was starting to think about how I would blog it and the rest of the afternoon, when I realized that doing so would probably mean me having to explain Dr. Who and Daleks and comic book culture terminology and cosplay and the major houses from Game of Thrones and it was then that I discovered that my nerd credentials were far more outstanding than I had realized.

Achievement unlocked.

A Weekend With Mrs. Sizemore

A couple of things about Mrs. Sizemore:
1. She is awesome.
2. She is exhausting.

Both of these things tend to come into play when you spend a weekend with her.

A couple of months back, Mrs. Sizemore, who is a massive comic book fan (and I don't mean "for a girl"; I mean she has a giant box bigger than she is in her apartment filled with other boxes that when unfolded will hold several thousand comic books) and who has been reading ENTIRELY TOO MUCH NIGHTWING recently, up and decided that she wanted to learn trapeze. Which, when she said this I was immediately all OH EM GEE ME TOO and so currently we are both taking trapeze lessons at a place called the Aloft Loft where, in addition to teaching budding superheroes and/or strippers how to hang upside down from things, they also put on a regular show called El Circo Cheapo.

El Circo Cheapo is exactly what it sounds like - a show with very cheap tickets (even cheaper if you don't spring for a fancy thing known as a "chair" and agree to sit on the floor) that features various circus/aerial acts hanging from things and generally being way more amazing than I will ever be. So on Saturday night, Mrs. Sizemore and I went to that. It was absolutely incredible, from the double trapeze act staring our teacher Sarah, to the unbelievably graceful and romantic German wheel duet, to the hilarious audience volunteer that some Canadian dude stood on top of while juggling machetes.

The problem with El Circo Cheapo is that it is in a cab dead zone and ends after the Damen bus stops running, so after the show we spent a good deal of time walking up Damen until we found a really ambitious cab driver (when Mrs. Sizemore asked "Can you take us to Irving Park?" he replied "I can take you anywhere in the world!" which I'm pretty sure is not true because, you know, oceans and whatnot). Mrs. Sizemore had it in her head that the perfect wrap up to watching upside down people was eating greasy diner food at nearly 1 in the morning, so we headed to a diner on Irving Park Road that oddly enough is named "The Diner". I should point out here that it being Cinco de Mayo on Saturday, I had used it as an excuse to drink pretty much all day long, which is the only explanation I can offer for sending an email to StereoNinja in the middle of the night which pretty much just read "Chocolate milkshake, bitches!" Meanwhile, Mrs. Sizemore was attracting a great deal of attention to herself by ordering the most excruciatingly specific meal ever ordered at 1 a.m. by someone who was not completely stoned. It was while we were enjoying our food at The Diner that Mrs. Sizemore asked what I was doing the next day.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Good. Do you want to go see Avengers again tomorrow?"

The important thing to realize here is that I hadn't actually seen Avengers yet, given that it had only been released the day before and also I suck at going to the movies. But by this point, Mrs. Sizemore had already seen it twice. I agreed to go, but admitted I was skeptical of whether or not I would like it because I have a huge thing for Edward Norton and Mark Ruffalo is no Edward Norton, but she assured me that while that was true, he totally IS Bruce Banner and I should just go with it.

We met up the next day to head over to the matinee at the Davis Theater which we chose to walk to since it had mostly stopped raining. This gave her plenty of time to explain to me the various versions and back stories of every character, how they were the same or different from the comic book versions and why Thor is amazeballs. "Because he has a hammer?" I guessed.

"He has TWO hammers and they are called his biceps," she answered.

I am not about to ruin The Avengers for you by telling you all about it, but I will tell you that 1. Ok, FINE, Mark Ruffalo is an awesome Bruce Banner and 2. stop reading this right now and go see it, because it is for reals the best superhero movie to date (which of course it was going to be because, hi, Joss Whedon).

The one spoiler I will give you is that near the end of the movie, Tony Stark decides that they should go out for shawarma later even though he doesn't know what it is. Neither did I until I googled it, but that didn't stop Mrs. Sizemore from insisting that we ALSO go eat some of the same after the movie because when she picks a theme for the day, she REALLY picks a theme for the day. For some reason I agreed to this even though I know I like neither kebabs nor falafal which didn't bode well for the shawarma. I also allowed her to talk me into walking there because "It's a couple blocks from the theater".

It isn't.

What IS a couple blocks from the theater is a comic book store, specifically, a comic book store that Mrs. Sizemore had not been to the day before on Free Comic Book Day and that she was hoping would have some of the books she hadn't been able to find the day before (which they did). She used my Avengers euphoria against me to get me inside the store. She then used the hilariously stereotypical comic book store guy to help talk me into trying out this whole "reading comic books" thing, and before I knew it, I had a bag with issues 0 and 1 of Avengers vs. X-Men and had dashed off another incredulous email to StereoNinja: "I'm in a comic book store. Buying comic books. WTF is happening to me?" While I was doing that, Mrs. Sizemore was accidentally seducing comic book guy by knowing absolutely everything about every comic book ever written in history and not shutting up. In the midst of this she also bought several back issues she was missing, Thor's hammer, some little action figures, and a book called Darth Vader and Son that I had been coveting but didn't buy because we'd been there an hour already and I was starving. She also talked comic book guy into giving her a poster right off the wall and started shilling Nightwing to the store's lone other customer ("It's not shilling if it's actually good," she insisted). Throughout this, I kept pointing out to her that the one thing they didn't sell in the comic book store was FOOD and eventually I managed to drag her out of there.

We continued walking to the shawarma place, which was always "a couple blocks away" no matter how many blocks we'd already walked. We walked past a goose that was hanging out in the road by himself as if he were trying to hail a cab. "Look, a goose!" Mrs. Sizemore was excited, apparently because she doesn't know anything about geese.

"Do not go over to the goose," I warned her.

"Why?" she asked, ignoring me and walking toward the goose.

"Geese are mean. I'm serious, cut that out. They attack people."

Evidently she didn't believe me. "Hey goose!" she said walking up to it.

"HSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

"Oh my god, it hissed at me!"

"They do that. I told you so. You're lucky it didn't attack you."

Finally, some two miles from where we'd started, we found the shawarma place, where I informed her in no uncertain terms that we were NOT walking all the way back because it was far, and it was dark, and we didn't know the neighborhood, and there was an angry goose running around. We argued about the relative hotness of Thor vs Hawkeye while she simultaneously gloated on Twitter about getting me to buy comic books.

It was after 9 at this point, and I was exhausted. Mrs. Sizemore is evidently NEVER exhausted, because her suggestion was that after we ate, we should get a cab to her house, walk her dog, go buy a bottle of wine, go to her friend's place where she is supposed to be feeding the cat, feed said cat and then sit there and drink the bottle of wine while we watched Captain America. I said that suggestion sounded good, but not quite as good as mine which was that after we ate, I should go the fuck home and go to bed. I am much older than she is, what do you want from me? We decided to compromise and are now set to watch Captain America on Tuesday instead.

iNo.

I finally broke down and got an iPhone yesterday. This is the part where you all gasp incredulously and then yell "YOU ARE ONLY JUST NOW GETTING A SMART PHONE? THE HELL?" I know. I know.

The truth is I didn't really want a smart phone for a number of reasons. For one thing, I am already addicted to my iPad. ADDICTED YOU GUYS. And I have tremendous fear of becoming that person who never ever socializes at all even when out in public because OHMYGODTHEINTERNETSAREEVERYWHERE. Or the person that ruins every fucking bar room debate by immediately looking up the answer and ending the entire conversation. Those guys are assholes and I don't want to be one of those assholes. An even bigger reason is that iPhones tend to get stolen right out of people's hands. It happened to Mrs. Sizemore. A woman here in Chicago was even killed when an iPhone thief pushed her down the stairs at the Belmont Brown line station whilst escaping with someone else's iProperty. I didn't worry about using my phone on the train until today. No one was going to try to steal my flip phone. Now? Now I worry. There is also the much more stupid but nonetheless real reason where I am my father's daughter and oddly resistant to change at times. A phone doesn't need to be filled with apps and do 900 magical things, it needs to make and receive phone calls. That is what "phone" means. I may even have told a number of different people that I would get a smart phone when they pried the perfectly fine regular ass phone out my cold dead hand.

Still, the smart phone thing is long past reaching critical mass and when the bartender got one a couple of months ago I figured it was probably time for me to join the ranks of the Eternally Connected (for reference, two nights ago I patiently explained to him how to attach a photo in an email. For him to have a new thing before I have it is downright ludicrous). I was still reluctant. For help in overcoming this, I turned of course to the great and wise Fish, an early adopter of every technology ever and pretty much the only person whose advice I actually heed (sometimes), and asked him to convince me. "Do you like your iPad? Wish it were more portable? You have the ability to upgrade and you aren't? Why are you fucking this up?" was his typically withering response, so here I am one week later with an iPhone 4s.

I turned it on for the first time and was immediately not a fan. My mild OCD tendencies went into overdrive because the entire first screen was filled with icons. Like 20 icons, which is way too much for me to look at and I was overwhelmed and turned it right back off to catch my breath and regroup. And yes I know I can move and/or group them and have started doing so, but it requires a lot of work to figure out which applications I'm going to use in descending order of frequency and then group them accordingly and when I had a regular phone that only did phone things I didn't have to deal with this. But fine, that problem will be resolved eventually. Then last night while I was laying in bed awake at 3:30 am because my cat is an asshole, it dawned on me that I hadn't checked out Siri yet. (Oh by the way, that commercial with the idiot kid in the shitty band that wants Siri to call him rock god is fucking awful and makes me feel all damn-kids-get-off-my-lawn. Please, please let them stop airing that soon.) I decided to see what she was up to so I asked her "Siri, are you there?" and she replied with, "Wherever you go, that is where I will be." Which is a seriously creepy thing to say and now I am afraid of my iPhone because Siri is FUCKING STALKING ME, YO. I hope this gets better soon before it tarnishes Fish's thus far sterling record of advice giving.

Good News, Everyone!

As you can tell from my last post, I am all signed up for the zombie 5k in Indianapolis this June, which I will again be running with H-Town and this time we will be joined by her brother E-Town. This week I start training again, which I assume will suck just as much if not more than it did last time because I haven't run since the last race in October and despite this El Nino miracle weather going on, it is still way the fuck colder outside than when I last trained for this sort of stupidity in September/October. I have downloaded a shit ton more of The Prodigy from iTunes to help me in matching my running soundtrack to my white hot anger about the fact that I am running.

So what's the good news, then? Well, since you asked, the good news is that after June I am never doing this again. I know I said that last time, but this time it is for real because this time I have a completely legit reason. I was discussing how much I hate running with some of the other women in my dance class last night and as we were talking, the great Michelle L'Amour began making a grimacy sad face at us. "All right," she said in a tone of voice that indicated it wasn't remotely all right, "but please make sure you stretch really well before and after. Running really shortens your hamstrings."

RIGHT THERE. Did you see it? Running shortens your hamstrings. And I am a dancer now, and I need my hamstrings to be long and flexible so I can do cool sexy bendy things. AND I already sit at a desk all day long which is also REALLY BAD for your hamstrings. So you see? I should not be running. At all. Ever. My dance instructor told me so and that woman can bend herself into a very sexy pretzel. I am done with any and all running after June. Instead, following in the footsteps of Mrs. Sizemore, I will be starting trapeze lessons in the spring. Yes, yes I will.

You Can't Argue With This Logic

Mrs. Sizemore: Wand of truth?

me: yes, the wand never lies

Mrs. Sizemore: Oh?

me: never. it never lies. if you wave the wand the truth will be revealed

Mrs. Sizemore: Have you tested this?

me: wand of truth says "not exactly"
SEE?
IT NEVER LIES

Mrs. Sizemore: Hahaha

Having A Social Life Makes It Really Hard To Blog Sometimes

I was told this morning by StereoNinja that I am being a shitty blogger in 2012 so far. Which I know, but see, there's this thing where I'm busy at my job and travelling and other excuses both legit and complete and utter bullshit. One of them is that I went on an epic trip to Austin last weekend. And I really want to tell you all about it, but chronologically it doesn't make sense if I skip over all of December and my birthday. Also, personally it doesn't make sense either. I have never skipped December or my birthday, they are my favorite things. So herein I will attempt to briefly recap the last month and a half so that in the next post I can describe the most epic reunion of my entire life. Cool? Cool.

A Brief Recap of What Amberance Has Been Up To Since Early December, Minus The Parts That Are None of Your Business and You Don't Want to Know About Anyway (Trust Me)

• On December 10th, as advertised, I walked onto a stage at Martyr's with 16 other women and took off all my clothes in front of hundreds of strangers and it. was. AWESOME. Despite it being oddly disconcerting to be walking around in a bar all night in a nightie and a robe while everyone else around me was dressed, but whatever. The show on the whole was excellent. The girls graduating were amazingly talented and creative and their acts included a girl who stripped to the Imperial March as Darth Vader and left the mask on the entire time, two girls who did a number together to Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive" in which one of them was the cowboy and the other one was her horse, and a girl who according to Michelle L'Amour said that she wanted to do a number in which "I do all of the things you always tell us we should never do", and so did a completely disinterested strip tease dressed in a ratty house coat with her hair a complete mess and a cigarette dangling out of her mouth, then finished with taking her bra off to reveal another flesh colored bra underneath to which she had sewn baggy tits that hung down to her knees and when she couldn't get the nipple tassels to twirl she just picked them up in her hand with a shrug and juggled them. It was the most hilarious strip tease I have ever seen.
• The bartender bought me an auto hammer for Christmas and I was filled with joy. I am a tool for tools. And puns.
• The next day I flew to Cleveland for two days because something is seriously wrong with me. I packed a backpack for the trip. My brother had also come to town, for four days, and had brought three huge suitcases and a garment bag, prompting me to ask my dad if it was weird for him that his son is his daughter and his daughter is his son (I did, after all, get an auto hammer for Christmas).
• I saw my brother again the following weekend when he came to town for the annual New Year's Eve party thrown by some friends of ours. My loving brother greeted me with a loud "Fuck you," when I walked in, due to my having worn an amazing tank top with chains and tiny handcuffs for straps that everybody but him loved, including all the women who were pregnant which was ALL OF THEM.
• The following week we had our work holiday party, to which I took the gorilla after giving me his word that he would behave himself. I shouldn't have worried, he was absolutely fine. It was me and my coworkers who were out of control, but it wasn't our fault - someone had brought a Shake Weight to the gift exchange which we were inappropriate about, and then we were under the minimum for the contract we'd signed, so the obvious thing to do was to order lots more booze which led to me teaching everyone how to twirl nipple tassels and shouting "It's PHYSICS" at everyone who tried to object.
• The following Monday I flew to Portland and didn't even try to kill my boss once!
• Which leads us to my Amber's Super Ultra Fantabulous Birthtacular Celebration Extravaganza: Now With MORE KELLY! weekend. This did not start out well. El Nino or whatever the hell the weather is doing had kept things pleasantly warm and dry in Chicago this winter, right up until the night of my birthday when it decided to drop 8 inches of snow on us overnight. This meant that only Charlie and Mrs. Sizemore showed up to my party at Tai's and got to see my Epic Cake which depicted me in not a whole lot of clothing.

  

  So hot it is literally on fire.

  This gave me the opportunity, after we had partially eaten it, to yell "WHO IS GOING TO EAT MY CROTCH?" at some innocent strangers for a totally legitimate reason. Earlier in the day, I had taken my pink princess wand to work with me in order to command people to do my bidding, such as wear hats and sing to me, and had ended up using it help my co-worker figure out what NOT to get his wife for her birthday by waving it at him after every suggestion and saying "No, that's stupid." Because of this, I decided to name it the Wand of Truth and then brought it to the bar and had a duel with the bartender and his magic wand because his Schwartz was as big as mine. The next day, Kelly and Mike showed up and we spent the weekend playing Pulse on our respective iPads and eating/drinking our faces off. Kelly ate some caterpillars. Lots more awesome things happened, but that is the thing that stands out - Kelly eating her way through a plate of caterpillars at Sticky Rice.

So that about brings us up to speed, and though I've missed some major things out (see bolded header), I feel better about blogging the Epic Austin Trip. Which I will do shortly to avoid further admonishments from StereoNinja. You don't want to piss off a ninja*.

*he is not a real ninja**.
*OR IS HE?

Amber And Jenny Know How To Party

Mrs. Sizemore: Also, wanna home depot trip sometime this eel for a diy project?

Me: lol. eel

Mrs. Sizemore: Haha I meant week, no idea where eel came from

Me: best sentence of the day. then we can go to home depot and be like "where are your eels?" and they'll be like what? and we'll be like "the EELS! WHERE ARE THE EELS?" and then we'll get thrown out

Mrs. Sizemore: Hahahaha Let's

Me: it's a plan

Shut Down

Mrs. Sizemore: High five!

The comic: Are you a child?

Vague Descriptions From Amtrak

Mrs. Sizemore: i shall make cake when you visit
you are coming on which day? the 18th?

me: i think so, did i send you the train reservation e-mail?

Mrs. Sizemore: nopes

me: you can has now!

Mrs. Sizemore: yaaaays
INCORRECT
Passenger 1: Amber [redacted] (Adult)

me: hahahahaha awesome

Mrs. Sizemore: amtrak tells lies

me: clearly

Mrs. Sizemore: unless they mean adult like, adult adult
x-rated and whatnot

me: right, i'll have to ask ;)

Mrs. Sizemore: Dear Train People,
Please clarify. Are you miscategorizing me, or do you know me all too well?
Thank you,
Amberance

me: perfect

Jenny and Amberance Can't Handle The Hard Stuff (Or Bad Music)

Mrs. Sizemore: vicodin is WEIRD
just a psa

me: um....?
oh, from your tooth

Mrs. Sizemore: yeah
i thought i would be tough and not take it
but that lasted about 4 hours and then i caved

me: yes, my old roommate jim was a big fan of that particular weirdness. mixed with copious amounts of beer and goldschlager

Mrs. Sizemore: oh yikes
i do not want to mix with anything

me: he has a bit of a death wish

Mrs. Sizemore: i keep getting waves of this strange, swimmy feeling
also, i keep crying

me: from the vicodin? i guess that would explain jim's penchant for emo, emo eyeliner

******later******

Mrs. Sizemore: blaaah
i officially do not like vicodin
why anyone would use this recreationally is astounding

me: reality is for people who can't handle drugs

Mrs. Sizemore: side effects?

me: of reality? walls staying still, only seeing one of something, inanimate objects do not talk and/or stare at you, no imaginary limbs growing out of your abdomen or flesh melting off your hands, etc.

Mrs. Sizemore: hmm
those are all correct
the side effects of the vicodin are not as pleasant
i am dizzy and hot
and also i keep wanting to cry

me: i would definitely stay away from the Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance CDs then

Bounty

The bartender and I are making a 17 1/2 pound turkey for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday...for the two of us and one guest. Because, you know, we wouldn't want to run out of food.

In related news, check out Mrs. Sizemore's pumpkin pie recipe, if you're looking for a DIY dessert.

Spider Politics

Mrs. Sizemore: Hey, do you want to move to Canada and get gay married?

Me: That depends. Do I have to learn French?

Mrs. Sizemore: No, you don't have to learn French. I speak enough for both of us.

Me: Good, because I was planning on learning Portuguese.

Mrs. Sizemore: Ooo, if you learn Portuguese we could move to Brazil!

Me: Nuh uh. They have tarantulas in Brazil, I'm not moving there. It has to be Canada.

MrSteve: Oh what, you think there's no spiders in Canada?

Me: Not big ones.

Mrs. Sizemore: Yeah, the spiders in Canada are small and killed by socialism.

Amberance Gives Questionable Advice

Mrs. Sizemore: i don't want to run the marathon
me: but gene will be there!
Mrs. Sizemore: i know but i didn't train. at all.
me: can you just run part of it?
Mrs. Sizemore: um it doesn't count
me: hmm. can you disguise someone else to look like you and then secretly switch places?
Mrs. Sizemore: i wish i'm just afraid i'm going to hurt myself and for no good reason
me: well obviously if it hurts just stop running and get a taco instead
Mrs. Sizemore: haha not like sore i mean like tearing an ACL because i didn't train
me: oh yeah, that would be bad
Mrs. Sizemore: i do like tacos

Conversations

I know what I like.

Mrs. Sizemore: how do you feel about pugs?
Me: The dogs?
I'm not into dogs, in general.
They are too not a cat.

It was fun while it lasted Browns Fans.

H-town: so, have you approached my brother's feelings on football?
per him: "I hate the Browns."
Me: that it is a heartbreaking exercise in futility designed to sap my will to live and leave me a
soulless husk? yes

*****

H-town: so you think romeo's going to get the boot soon?
me: I think he's made poor decisions all year so far. And I think starting Quinn is not the answer
so something else has to be
H-town: how about starting you?
you could do well
me: sure, aside from that can't throw a football to save my life thing
H-town: i'm sure you could take a hit from a 300lb lineman.
you're pretty tough
me: there's a sex joke in there somewhere, but i can't quite grasp it

Oversharing.

The bartender (watching football, needs one more score for the over): If they run this kickoff
back for a touchdown, I will whack off.
Me: Yeah. Wait, what?

Amberance and Jenny: LOLdorks

Mrs. Sizemore: ummmmm genius: http://www.thinkgeek.com/stuff/41/snuznluz.shtml
me: wow
Mrs. Sizemore: O HAI, PETA. u can has dollarz because i sleep too much?
me: kthxsnuz

The Glorious Interweb

It happens to be that I have a very good reason why I haven't blogged in two weeks. It is because I have been spending my time working on a super secret project (or super annoying, sick of hearing me talk about it project if you happen to work with me or are my friend on Facebook or are Gene Honda) and I can't blog about it until it's finished. At which time there will be a grand unveiling n' shit. But currently I do not have the time or creativity for original blog content.

Fear not, my friends from a series of tubes!* For the World Wide Net is vast, and has much fabulous content which I shall tell you about starting.....now.

For those who weren't in the know during the early-mid 90's, the most hilarious show ever to air on MTV was the brilliant sketch comedy show The State. It's been off the air lo these many years, but the bigger travesty is MTV's inexplicable refusal to release the show on DVD. So it was with great surprise and overwhelming joy that I stumbled across the first season of The State for sale at the iTunes Music Store. If you are a fan of The State and you have i Tunes, I highly recommend you shell out less than $10 and download the shows so you can finally explain to your friends who missed it the first time around just what the hell you're talking about when you yell out "I wanna dip my balls in it!"

In the short space of three months, my brother's girlfriend has managed to get her blog named one Chicago's best by the Tribune, be chosen as blogger of the week, also by the Tribune and perhaps most difficult, become my favorite blog on the web. Realize, she is in direct competition with Jennie Smash and The Sneeze for this title. She is The Reckless Chef, and she is extraordinarily gifted at creative cooking, photography, writing and setting herself on fire. From her recipe for Pineapple Upside-Down Pork:

"If you’re using a 13×9 pan and a standard can of pineapple rings, you should have exactly one left over. Eat it. It’s tasty."

For a good time, call The Fail Blog. At it's best it will get you caught not working at work because of all the laughing. At the very least it will make The Reckless Chef's ability to set herself aflame seem perfectly reasonable.


*The Internet is not a truck.