The Tea Rose

This isn't a review, snarky movie reviews are my deal. If you want a review, check out A Reader of Fictions review here. But I had one of the strangest experiences reading Jennifer Donnelly's The Tea Rose and I've got to write about it.

So, this book is massive. Not literally, I mean it is also fairly hefty size-wise but the story itself is vast. It covers a little over a decade and recounts everything from docker strikes in the East End of London to dining with the Astors in New York, from Jack the Ripper to stock takeovers. I don't want to give too much away, I'm going to do my best to not include too many spoilers but it will be inevitable. If you plan on reading this book you may want to wait to read this post.

Normal Woody Harrelson

Have I told you that I'm going to the midnight premiere of The Hunger Games? Because of course I am. Have I told you that I'm dressing up as Effie Trinket? Because why wouldn't I? And have I told you that I'm making my husband dress up too? It's only rational. When I was first putting my costume together he had not yet begun reading the books and asked if Effie had a counterpart. I told him Haymitch was the closest thing she had to a counterpart. Later, when he'd gotten into the first book this happened:

Buddy Holly: Did you suggest that I go as Haymitch?

Me: What?

Buddy Holly: For the movie, did you suggest that I go as the drunkard?

Me: No, no, no. You asked if Effie had a counterpart, which Haymitch is the closest thing to. I did not suggest you go as drunk Woody Harrelson. Which is pretty much normal Woody Harrelson.

He'll probably go as Haymitch. There will probably be pictures.

Spidey-senses tingling

So, Spiderman 3 came out during my college years and, despite it being finals week, a group of my friends decided to go to the midnight premiere. We had a thing for midnight showings then. For some asinine reason, that I can't remember but was probably lamely responsible, I decided not to go. I regretted it, all that night, all the next day and on through the years following. In fact, until last night, I had never seen Spiderman 3. It was like this elusive treasure that I could never quite reach. But I finally did and it turned out to be made of pyrite.

Seriously, I have no more regrets. That movie was freaking ridiculous and I'm so glad I didn't pay eight dollars to see it in the theatre. I probably got a better grade on whatever final was the next day because I missed that movie. If not that, I at least saved myself excessive eye rolling for two hours. What the hell? Have you seen that movie? Terrible, just terrible.

First off, these movies are made infinitely more difficult by this man and his stupid face.

Then there's the obvious, the very obvious, emo-Peter Parker scenes. The hair and the clothes and the finger pistols, good God. That entire scene in the jazz club, where he's dancing and spazzing, I couldn't help but be reminded of Ron Burgundy playing jazz flute in Anchorman.

 But it doesn't stop there because this happens:

And dear Mary Jane, who always ends up dangling from someone's sticky web emission by the end of the movie, nearly falls about ten times and is nearly crushed to death another twenty times after that. Only one other person seems to have this many recurring mishaps.

And maybe I missed Tobey McGuire gaining a few pounds but where did the double chin come from? It's just embarrassing, really.

So, in conclusion, Spiderman 3...