And They Call it . . . Puppy Love

No, I didn't get a puppy, however much The Boy might want one. My sister, however, added to her family this weekend. In addition to Sophie, the four-year-old French Mastiff, my sister now has Stella, the fifteen-week-old Bulldog.



I've never seen a sweeter, more patient and mild-tempered dog than the gigantic Sophie. She's fiercely protective of my nephew and The Boy (whom everyone refers to as her boyfriend), but otherwise, she lolls around like a kindly stuffed animal, allowing my nephew to sleep on her, play with her ears, and even give her an elaborate haircut with safety scissors. (My sister: "I knew things were too quiet!") Sophie is no less patient with her new little sister, regarding the rambunctious ball of love that is Stella with a look that says, "What is this little weirdo doing," even as Stella attempts to gnaw on her ears, paws, or tail. Aw!

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I am in a compete and utter fiction slump. In the last weeks I've read Lizzie Skurnik's Shelf Discoviery: The Teen Classics We Never Stopped Reading, which is excellent, Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking, which is sad and funny and fun, a collection of essay's about Firefly (thanks, P!) called Finding Serenity: Anti-Heroes, Lost Shepherds, and Space Hookers in Joss Whedon's Firefly, which is awesome (I ordered the sequel and can't wait for it to get here), Nina Planck's Real Food: What to Eat and Why (who knew I could be persuaded to drink raw milk?), and Susannah Gora's fun and interesting You Couldn't Ignore Me if You Tried: The Brat Pack, John Huges, and Their Impact on a Generation.

I have about a chapter to go in that last one, and aside from some things about the writer's style that kind of annoy me, such as referring to Sixteen Candles as Candles and The Breakfast Club as Breakfast--like she's best pals with these movies or something--it drives me MAD . . . anyway, aside from that, it's an interesting look at some movies I loved back in the day but hadn't thought of in a long time.

I graduated from high school in 1989, so I was pretty much the prime target for these movies, and I love some of them deeply. I could recite from Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club line for line, and still use many of the lines as short hand to communicate with my sister. I don't know that I loved the things about those movies that I should have--I did not have a crush on Jake Ryan, for instance (I preferred the nerdy Farmer Ted character, who seemed a lot more fun), but I did love Sam's family and the other parts of the story.

I loved pretty much everything about The Breakfast Club, and wanted to be Ally Sheedy's character. I wasn't anything like her (or Molly Ringwald's character for that matter, though I did love her boots), but I wanted to be just like her--until the make-over scene. It bummed me out that she had to get "pretty" for Emilio. Sigh.

Anyway, I wasn't a big fan of most of the other movies of that style/genre/ilk. Pretty in Pink bummed me out. I despised everyone in Less than Zero and St. Elmo's Fire. I liked Some Kind of Wonderful well enough, but I didn't love it. The only one I really, really loved was Say Anything. Chuck Klosterman once said that Lloyd Dobbler ruined a generation of women, and I admit that's true for me. I loved his character with all my heart. Sigh. I always wonder if Lloyd and I would like each other now that we're grown-ups.

So yes, these movies were a part of my life, and shaped me in ways I couldn't have known. I didn't know any adults who'd gone to college when I was growing up, for example, so what did I think like should have been like in college and just after? Why, like St. Elmo's Fire, of course, only with people who weren't a bunch of hateful, whiny douche bags. Turns out that I most certainly could NOT afford an apartment like Judd Nelson shared with Ally Sheedy, or like Demi Moore's. Nor did I have a glamorous and/or important job. Therefore: Fail. Sigh.

I'm getting off track here, though. Sorry. The book is good, and if you're around my age it will make you think about a lot of things that may never have occurred to you. Give it a go.

So that's my big list of non-fiction. I bought the new Nick Hornby last week, Juliet, Naked, which I know I will like once I get to it, and also picked up Frank Portman's new book, Andromeda Klein. Portman wrote King Dork, which I really enjoyed, so I'm excited for this, and yet . . . I can't wait for the new Firefly book to show up so I can continue to immerse myself in the geekdom.

What's up with me?