Wheeeee!



























Project Bandaloop is a dance company (out of Oakland, who knew?) that works to combine "dance, sport, ritual, and environmental awareness." My friend just auditioned for a training and was accepted! She said when she auditioned they had her harnessed and she was working off trampolines that were affixed to the wall. Wow. She will be learning how to do aerial dance, and possibly have a chance to join their troupe!

This looks like an amazing opportunity to not only learn something unique and beautiful, but physically and mentally challenging as well, and fuse so many intense passions into one. I am so excited for her! Check out this highlights vid of their work. It is breathtaking.

I just have to say, I could never do this. Rather than being sad that I am such a wuss and scaredy-cat, on the contrary, these are the times that I am so happy that there are people out there who like this sort of thing, so that the scaredy-cats like me can just appreciate their fabulosity and cheer them on. I will just continue to do less scary things like pretend to play bass and pretend to be an art critic and go to poetry readings and ski (carefully) and learn to be a trained killer (in the safety of a dojo, of course). I'm satisfied with my level of death-defying, which is close to none.

Aha, but I may have spoken too soon. This is something out of character death-defying for me that I may be forced to consider:


























I want this dress.

Want -- yes, that bane of human existence. Nevermind that though, the important thing here is to let y'all know it is part of the new holiday collection by the Dutch designers Viktor & Rolf, for those purveyors of the cheap(ly made) and (nonetheless) chic, H&M, for release on November 9. And if past instances of hair-pulling and bitch-slapping over H&M's Karl Lagerfeld and Stella McCartney lines are any indication, there will be only one delivery, and it will be a death-defying act indeed for me to procure this dress.

BTW, yes, I am a label whore, but never at full price, honey -- and actually, preferably, at the same price as what it costs to buy a package of (non-designer) athletic socks. In fact, I think I am a label-whore more for the thrill of wearing an ensemble that may have originally been selling for more than what my car is worth, but that I bought for under $20 or summat. In this instance I am more interested in the designs than the name.

So, shall I fight my way through the hordes to possibly find a beautiful designer dress at a fraction of the designer's price? Equally possible outcome is a crappy, ill-fitting, poorly made shadow of it's V&R Winter 2006 version that awaits me, and therefore a grumpiness that will only be tamed by going in search of a Christian Dior vintage sweater at Fillmore Goodwill and snacking on a bag of hot roasted chestnuts from Japantown.

Ooh, in that case, I guess it may be a win-win.

But I still may not go. I hate crowds of rabid teenagers, and craziness, and impulse buying, and hipster slackers with a lot of money, and all of the former in one place at once. So, I guess the other important thing to for you to know is that I am a size 6 or 8 -- I'll take either. ;)

I'm freaking out, man.

Do you like it when I put up completely bitchin' pics from one of the most holy of films to attract your attention, and then wildly 180 from what seems was the visually intended subject matter? I've got to get you to read somehow, don't I?

So yeah, just musing today....you boys like Mexico?

***

Some things from some of my favorite blogs and webaddictions this week:

From Mr. Hallis, it's one of the things that makes Japan rock so hard.

I don't know why I read this, because it's usually lameass, but Vice Magazine's Dos and Don'ts railed this chick as a Don't, and they are obviously smoking the crystal meth.

Craig! Finally! Has! A! BLOG! I love Craig. Craig is an artist, and he rules. Give him some sugar.

Finally, someone says what's real about this Moss/Doherty mess.

My old employer clued me in to these organic bouquets that help support various nonprofits working for social justice and the environment.

I love this pic.


***

The talk about Barack Obama running for President. I like to think I never do this. Don't believe the hype, as the kiddies from my teendom said. But I am believing. I haven't been excited about some one I know close to zero about in quite some time. Just the fact he admits to past drug use makes me just go to gush inside because of a pol being honest. He's young, hopeful, and black. Shall I dare hope in this America?

***

Well, DUH. Business must go on as usual, no?

***

Heaven is Bakesale Betty in my hood. Alison and Michael are two of the best things about living where I do, for real yo. Alison ruined me for peaches by giving me one of her personal Frog Hollow peaches she uses for peach pie once long ago. I can't even think about eating another type of peach now. Oh god, and here I am thinking about Bakesale Betty peach pie now. The best peach pie, next to my dad's, hands down. Did I mention they do everything in season too, and that their fried chicken sandwich will make you weep with joy? Everything they do is of the highest quality, and they are all about the Temescal community. And hello, I almost forgot -- lemon bars!

Speaking of lemon bars: T-zone, come back to the Oaktown. The lemon bars miss you. I miss the T-zone. I haven't been to Goodwill in forevah, yo. Can't you clean your chi and touch your toes with the small of your back in Oaktown?

Just got in from camping in Big Sur this weekend with Trevor, and a bunch of friends we just recently met. We stayed in Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park and car-camped. It was grand.

























We hiked the redwoods, played beach bocce (my first time!), fed cute beach rats hunks of cheese, drank copious amounts of delicious beverages, and staged marshmallow fights. Aforementioned-in-a-previous-post-fantastic-new-neighbor-friend Richard cooked up a mighty dinner of pasta alfredo with abalone a fellow camper had acquired diving. S'more-making occurred in abundance. Fell asleep, belly full and tuckered out, under a starry sky, snug as a bug, and awoke to the calls of crows and the smell of (someone else's) breakfast cooking. Packed up and drove to Monterey Bay Aquarium (hadn't been since I was in elementary school) to oooh and aaah over the jellyfish and recently acquired juvenile great white shark. Ooooooooh. Ahhhhhhh. Yesssssss. Only thing better would've been the ten mile hike to the hot springs. Next time.

Gorgeous weather too -- t-shirt and clamdiggers sufficed under a bright blue sky. 78 degrees in October. Fall colors. Warm sunshine all day, then fog. Redwoods, mountains, beach -- within minutes of each other.

As a native NorCali gal, I just gots to say: I love California. Love it love it love it. Where else can you ski, surf, run a trail, mountainbike, sunbathe, walk in the fog, rockclimb, whalewatch, and almost anything else to your heart's content, in any season, just by driving a few hours in any direction?

Yes, it is still expensive. Yes, NorCali is still full of rednecks and self-centered faux eco-liberal yuppies. And yes, Los Angeles is still here. But California is still also one of the most beautiful and varied and diverse places on Earth, and just when I was getting jaded and cranky-pants I find out it's still got some genuine people here who love life. Now, about that expensive bit -- I can just rent a studio apartment forever, right?

When Trevor and I were living in Japan for a very short time, before deciding it just wasn't for us, we listened to Joni Mitchell's "California" a lot. There's just something about this place.

Sitting in a park in Paris, France
Reading the news and it sure looks bad
They won't give peace a chance
That was just a dream some of us had
Still a lot of lands to see
But I wouldn't want to stay here
It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here
Oh, but California
California
I'm coming home
I'm gonna see the folks I dig
I'll even kiss a sunset pig
California, I'm coming home

Though, WTF is a sunset pig? Haha, actually, nevermind, Google is my friend.

By the way, I'm all out on scary for this post. I can't think of a damn thing to post for Halloween month scary bits. I'm exhausted from the weekend, and I've got an online training session tomorrow for work to look forward to. Isn't that scary enough? Night night.

Saw The Decemberists last night at the Warfield. I love the Warfield, even if it has shittier acoustics than my favorite San Francisco venue, the Fillmore (which I had no idea is owned by Clear Channel until today -- grrrr) and surlier staff. Did you know that Slayer played a show they recorded for a DVD at the Warfield? I can't even imagine what that was like. Nevermind, yes I can -- completely badass, but only from a safe distance, like the balcony or this DVD. I'm not 18 anymore.

But I digress -- The Decemberists, last night, my first time seeing them live. So good. Contrary to Slayer, the Decemberists had a little English dandy voice reciting a primer before the show that advised us to introduce ourselves to the person standing next to us, and to be polite to each other during the show. And this was probably the most polite show I've ever been to.

I still don't care for the new album so much. Too shallow and repetitive lyrically, giving many songs a throwaway "pop" feel (but only when compared to past albums -- it's not a terrible record, and really it's quite reasonable for a major label debut). Damn though, the band is so charming and spot on when they play, and the bulk of their stuff is so genius, that it doesn't matter what they play, it all sounds great. Even the new stuff that seems a little too polished and pedestrian and lacking a story you can fall into had me wanting to dance with it's infectious beats and earnest Colin Meloy vocals. They were really enjoying themselves and the audience -- very giving and totally engaged. It was a really fun show. And every single person in that band can play at least 3 instruments, if not 5 or 6, and sometimes 2 at a time. Very impressive.

Colin Meloy was also charming as ever, his voice was wonderful, and his banter with the crowd was awesome. He congratulated us for braving the area around the Warfield at night, and gave us a hilarious bit about walking through the Tenderloin from his hotel to get to the show and his experience with the broad daylight crack deals. He took a guy's cell phone and used it to play guitar, and then called an entry for "Mom" and sang for her. Charmer!

A lot of audience singalong too, a Decemberists trademark. Super show, I highly recommend them when they come through your town. They remember and know what it's like to be a fan and what a concert experience should be like. Good folks, and wonderful musicians. Here's a youtube vid of an unreleased song they did a couple of nights ago -- same set design and song last night.

Oooh, and on another note, lookie what we got today...





















I love all things Hellboy, but I love Roger the best. May you continue to rest in peace.

Trevor picked up the whole of the incredibly well-made Hellboy figures from Series 2 today, save for "Rocket Hellboy" since we already have "Closed Mouth Hellboy" from Series 1, as well as Liz Sherman and Lobster Johnson from that run as well.

BUT...most sadly badass, and poking not only my hellish tendency to collect, but my evil otaku tendency to grieve ever so slightly when I tear open the packages (that's right, you read me right, Trevor and I break the seals on these puppies – my ongoing homage to the fact you only live once, nerds) is that the figure we hunted high and low for, the one that we wanted most of all, the figure that is impossible to find, that bad mofo, the Kriegaffe, is not only impossible to find, but has gone up to $60 US. From $16.95! That is $60 in the package, of course.

But I still don't care that we opened the Kreigaffe. He looks so cool on our bookshelf, free from his heat molded constraints. You can’t keep a mad Nazi-controlled monkey down. And the Alien figure (the rare one from Series 2) has all kinds of cool shit on his back that you can’t see if you keep him in his little plastic prison.

Tremble before our disregard to price guides! Bwaahahahahahahaha!

Just got back from my second session of getting my ninja on. As per usual, I'm sleeping with my instructor. Heehee.

Trevor was recently granted permission to start up an East Bay training group under his instructor, Shihan Dale Seago, who heads the San Francisco Bujinkan, and I promised him that as soon as he began teaching, I would take classes. So far, I'm loving it, though feeling a tad stupid because it involves learning to move in a whole new and exciting way and my body seems to rebel at every turn. Don't worry, Trevor says, everyone feels a little stupid at first while getting the body mechanics down, and soon it will feel natural. Plus, everyone will be sorry they laughed at you when you shuriken their ass.

Okay, Trevor actually only said the first part about not worrying about feeling stupid and it becoming natural. But dreaming of ass-kicking is also totally normal I think too until you know what you're doing. One with the Tao though and all, I am only kidding. Slightly.

I must say, I am really stoked and excited, because Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu is so flexible and works on such a practical level. And Trevor is such a good instructor. Check out the East Bay Buyu site, and if you're in the EB on Monday nights, come check it out in person!

And while Trevor will never be rolling in the Benjamins from being a Bujinkan instructor, he will be honing his own training, getting more folks interested and trained in the art he loves, and hopefully turning his wife into a trained killer. All things he loves to do, plus he may make just enough to pay his rent on the space every month and pocket a couple of dollars for a bowl of ramen when we visit Japan. Fantasy job.

Funny, I've been thinking about this since reading about fantasy jobs on Julie's blog. Aren't we all looking for satisfaction and the Benjamins? So far, I've been happily sacrificing the latter for the former (and adjusting my life accordingly), but wouldn't it be great if the two could comingle into delicious job nirvana? And by fantasy, I'm talking about not worrying about money, not sacrificing real life for your job, zero-bullshit, and doing something important.

So, my fantasy jobs, in no particular order:

1.Nutritionist
2.Epidemiologist
3.Assassin
4.Chef
5.David J's personal assistant or bass monkey (oy, I'm such a freak -- if I'm honest this is numero uno)
6.Professional player-with of puppies (whoops, you're numero uno after this J, sorry...)
7.Personal shopper for the unfortunately dressed
8.DJ
9.Naturalist
10.Ceramicist
11.Sex columnist
12.Record store clerk
13.Barista-ing with Doug again
14.Sharpshooter of objects
15.Fashionista
16.Esthetician
17.Farmer
18.Jack Bristow

Sigh. Can't I live forever?

And lest you think I forgot about scary things in my posts this month (as if the prospect of me learning the ways of the ninja is not scary enough and what Stan Lee might smell like didn't make you blanch with horror), check out the cool shenanigans Trevor has been up to in his Information Technology Tools and Applications class whilst pursuing one of his fantasy jobs, librarian. Oooh, spooky frames!

What does Stan Lee smell like?

Many thanks to the Bad Librarian for this little nugget.

Just got back from visiting my parents this weekend -- er, actually, more like Thursday through Saturday. Having Friday off from work every week, free and clear, is THE BEST!

One of my most favorite things about visiting my hometown is the drive in or out in the evening. Let me give you some context. While making your way smack dab through the middle of the Central Valley, the suffocating stench of rendering plants and dairy farms in Manteca and the Cowboy Capital of the World is almost overwhelming. But soon the almond groves, factories, and cattle yards fall away, and great expanses of grassy hills and fields dotted with oak trees and volcanic rock as far as the eye can see spread out on either side of 108. Your headlights cut through the pitch black, and with lack of human lighting sources the stars above twinkle brightly and envelope you like a cocoon.

Then, right between Lover's Leap and Table Mountain, it hits you. That scent. The rose and sweet clovers, star thistle, and golden grasses that make up these gorgeous hills and fields bake all day in the heat. When the sun goes down and the temperature drops suddenly, they give up their sweetness and subtly perfume the environs with something straight from heaven.

Trevor knows that smell. Craig too. Eric and James (and maybe some other lurkers!) know it as well. It is the sweet sweet smell of home. It never ceases to fill me with joy.

Speaking of joy, here's something else that feeds my happy spot: Carsten Holler's ginomous slide exhibition at the Tate Museum in London.

I love what Holler has to say about his project. I agree with him -- there is happiness and terror and most important to me, engagement in the act of sliding. To wit:

I’d like to suggest that using slides on an everyday basis could change us, just as other commodities are changing us. For instance, I’m convinced that the use of cars has changed our perception of time. I could imagine slides having an impact too. The state of mind that you enter when sliding, of simultaneous delight, madness and ‘voluptuous panic’, can’t simply disappear without trace afterwards. In this sense the ‘test site’ isn’t just in the Turbine Hall, but is also, to an extent, in the slider or person watching who’s stimulated by the slides: a site within.

Word. What would be the result of sliding if it was part of the daily routine? Can slides become part of our experiential and architectural life?

Heehee, and slightly cheating again on my "scary posts for October" promise, but that also brings me joy. Consistency is queen, baby. Anyhow, this is so dope, and surprisingly, related ever so tidily to my love for Holler's slides, and my ideas about true engagement with this world we live in/this life we are given. It is also SCARY. Boo!



























Poet and former man about the Bay (before moving to become a professor at Southern Oregon), Kasey Silem Mohammad has assisted in putting together this tidy little book -- that no doubt stemmed from his genius Zombie! course at Santa Cruz -- entitled The Undead and Philosophy -- Chicken Soup for the Soulless

Are some of the people we know really Undead, and how can we tell? OMFG. If I have to tell you how much this rules, maybe you shouldn't be reading this blog.

Actually, I guess the bigger questions of this whole post are more along these lines: Can using a slide in our daily lives, to help perform the mundane task of simple travel within a building, and thus daily engagement in that "simultaneous delight, madness, and voluptuous panic," (mortal LIFE!) leave us with the kind of trace element that can change our cores for the better? Can living more simply and tempering consumerism and consumption, and seeking out simple joys (the scent of home, anyone?) help us to avoid the mindless Undead "going through of the motions?" Can this fundamentally change us and create more deep satisfaction and happiness?

I actually wanted to post a picture of new Japanese Prime Minister Abe Shinzo giving a high-five or shotgunning an Asahi Super "Dry" or doing an Arthur Fonzerelli impersonation or summat, but I guess it’s too early in his career for him to be totally cool or anything like that. You’ll just have to settle instead for the captain of cool, outgoing PM Koizumi Junichiro. You could always rely on him and his impressive hairdo for a fun photo-op, that rascal. I'll miss you and your wacky hi-jinks, good sir. *sniff*

Anyway, contrary to my previous post about the woe that is the appointment of Abe Shinzo as Japan’s new PM, I am cautiously optimistic about Abe getting out there right away and communing with his neighboring countries. On China and Yasukuni Shrine:

Abe told [Chinese President] Hu that the Yasukuni Shrine issue will be handled "appropriately."

"I explained (to the Chinese leaders) that I will not say whether I visited or I will visit Yasukuni Shrine as long as it remains a diplomatic and political problem," Abe said. "From the viewpoint of solving political difficulties (between the two nations), I will handle (the issue) appropriately. I believe I gained (their) understanding" with this explanation.

Uh, yeah, sure, makes perfect sense. But I do like this:

Abe said he and the Japanese people regret that Japan caused tremendous damage, pain and serious scars on people in other parts of Asia during World War II.

The two leaders agreed to start a joint study on history before the end of the year.

Good job, Abe, and stick with it will ya, because y’all got regional lunatic Kim Jong-il and his nuclear arsenal to look out for now too, so it’s even more important for Japan’s government to ally itself with other countries rather than continue to insult them with nationalistic BS.

Speaking of Japan possibly softening their hardline on other Asian peeps, particularly Koreans, I was heartened to see that when Japanese protesters gathered outside the Tokyo headquarters of the pro-Pyongyang General Association of Korean Residents in Japan after North Korea’s first nuclear test, the National Police Agency of Japan called on local police forces to not only maintain safety but to stay vigilant over the activities of right-wing groups critical of North Korea.

Kudos to Japan for their social equality gestures. But I do have to say good god, WTF about Kim Jong-il. Looney-tunes. I just read today that a North Korean rep said that Pyongyang would consider sanctions as a declaration of war. Sorry Kim, but declaring war on the UN Security Council for issuing sanctions means not only the US, but your allies Russia and China too. It’s not just one big bad bully, it’s the global community that just isn’t too happy with you.

Anyway, Kim, you gotta know what (scary) thing Japan has got on its side, that will literally go nuclear on your ass should you attempt to gank its dibs on trashing Tokyo and its environs, don’tcha?


















That's right, bitches.

I attended the free Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in San Francisco's Speedway Meadow in Golden Gate Park yesterday. I went to see Billy Bragg, and he was fucking brilliant!

This was my first time ever seeing him, and he impressed me so much. I knew he was a longtime political activist and "socialist agitator" -- his 1991 hit song, "Sexuality" about throwing off oppressive ideas about sex and society was my first introduction to him as a high school student -- but I was not prepared for his eloquence, charm, and sincerity. His whole set was a joy, but most enjoyable was a song he did with a songwriter's workshop prior to his full set called "Bush War (bourgeois) Blues," which, incidentally, he said he will be making available as a free download on his download page. As he sang, with the Fleet Week jets periodically screaming overhead, it was absolutely unreal.

I also saw Guy Clark and Verlon Thompson before Bragg. They did a heartbreaking song that I don't know the name of but was about a man whose one true love was for a woman he longed to marry, but who was a prostitute and didn't want to marry him. The man died (heartbroken, of course -- this is country after all) and the only woman who cried at his funeral was his one true love. The song had the refrain, "He always said heaven was a Dallas whore." You may have to take my word for it, but it was beautiful.

It was such a beautiful, sunny day on the grass (or, tarp and blanket, rather). And my new fantastic neighbor friend Richard, who grew up in Hong Kong and the Isle of Man, and as such wanted to treat us to a proper sunny garden party English drink, brought Pimm's to share. Also my first time with a proper "Pimm's Cup" -- Pimm's, lemon-lime, mint, cucumber slice, orange slice, and lemon slice -- and it was lovely.

Today Trevor and I took some time to take a long walk in the gorgeous sunshine, have sushi, and get some maple-pinenut praline and earl grey ice cream from Ici. Bliss.

NP: The Sisters of Mercy, First and Last and Always. Currently, "A Rock and a Hard Place."

This is one of my all-time favorite albums. Lyrically and instrumentally, it is practically flawless, save for a little bit of goth pretension (that I have to admit I still LOVE anyway):

Hit up
Steel in hand
Lit up
Like candles
Burning
Like Catherine Wheels
Turning
On
Nothing but the knife to live for
One life, all I need
Give me one good reason
Give me more

But then there are also those lyrics that just penetrate your soul as well:

A rock and a hard place await for for me
Between the devil and the deep blue sea
Everything I ever did right or wrong
Hid out of sight where I belong, belong

Er, okay, maybe that's also a bit of goth pretension, hey? No matter, classic album all the same.

Oops, almost forgot my scary bit for my October posts. How about in honor of the Sisters, and Billy Bragg taking on the blood for oil money neocons, I leave you with the lyrics to First and Last and Always' opening song, "Black Planet."

Cheating, I know, but this song points out not only our scary enemies but what scary reality we could be barreling rather than slightly barreling toward if we give up fighting for the health of our planet. And for you scary classicists calling foul, I will leave you with this thought: with Apocalypse, comes zombies.

I absolutely hate the living dead, which is okay, because the living dead hate the living, um, alive. Except for their brains (EEEK!). Paralyzed by fear, I am, by brain-eaters. *shiver* And no one likes catastrophic destruction involving toxic environments, chaos, and helpless confused humans more than the living dead. Chew on that if you still want a Ford Expedition and haven't changed your party registration to Green yet.

Score! On the free table in the lobby of my apartment building was a brand new pair of black Cydwoq sandals. Black. Cydwoq. Sandals. In my size. Squee!

I COVET Cydwoq like nobody's business. Handcrafted leather footbeds, hand-sewn seams, vegetable dyed leathers, and super funky style. But oh woe, I can't afford to drop $300 to $400 US on a pair of shoes. However, just now, mid-sentence, looking at the website and putting my fantastic sandals on again and sighing with deep satisfaction -- the kind of satisfaction only a woman who loves quality shoes knows -- I have decided I am saving to buy a pair. I am worth it, dammit!

Oy vey, desire is a bad bad thing. *drool*























I also have to give gigantic props to that Mecca of fantastic unwanted goodness, the free table in my building's lobby. I have found so many kickass things there. Velvet curtains, an inkjet printer (good for iron-on transfers!), good reads, a vintage lamp, an Eamesesque chair, and now my fantabulous sandals. Sure, people leave oh, underwear and stretched out spandex bike shorts there too, but I digress -- CYDWOQ!

Okay, and now for *deep breath*...scary Halloween month item numero dos:

I am a 'fraidy cat, but I love ghosts. In Britain, during the filming of a car commercial, the director spotted what looked like a ghostly image closely following the automobile, and apparently caught it on tape. As the car rounds the turn, it does look like there might be an apparition close to the ground on the passenger side of the vehicle. Super spooky. This commercial has made the internet rounds, but it is still definitely an oldie, but a goodie.

Drumroll...

Some more highly entertaining things in my life right this very second!

1) Nakamura Shidou


















I recently saw Jet Li's new film, Fearless. Fantastic martial arts film. And while Mr. Li was impeccable as usual, the sets and martial arts sequences were stunning, and the moral of the story beautiful, both Trevor and I were absolutely inspired by the performance of Nakamura Shidou as Tanaka Anno.

I suppose it helps he's a total fox too.













Maybe my thinking has to do a little with my previous post about the Japanese government, but the message of unity and honor that he helped foster in the film was really striking to me. Of course, the actions of his character are the screenwriter's creation, and I have to hand it to Jet Li and Co for making a Chinese film that highlights Japanese as honorable, but Nakamura brought real integrity to the role. I felt proud to be Japanese!





















And hot damn the man's a Kabuki actor t'boot. Sweet. Straight up, Nakamura Shidou is going to be a huge international success. Check him out in his next film, Letters From Iwo Jima.

2) Tony Millionaire's Sock Monkey















Alright, yes, I've been about Sock Monkey for a long time, but the most recent issue got me thinking that everyone and their mom should be reading this comic. Witty and imaginative, this series has Millionaire's more adult-oriented Maakies characters Uncle Gabby and Mr. Crow reimagined and on all sorts of whimsical adventures involving all sorts of peculiar characters, and of course, a healthy dose of CALAMITY!

Uncle Gabby and Mr. Crow have a quaint and childlike charm to them, and their interactions with salty sea dogs, monsters from the air, "saucy thieves!," and a scrappy little doll named Inches are really delightful. Well worth picking up.

3) The Grudge 2 trailer

Okay, NOT actually one of the things entertaining me at the moment, because it is so fucking scary, and I don't do so fucking scary. But in honor of Halloween month, I think I'm going to try to post something scary in every post this month.

I saw the original Japanese film The Grudge was based on, Ju-On, when I was living in Japan in 2004, and that movie still has me freaked out 2 years later. No way in hell I'm seeing either American version, because the trailer for this second film scared the living daylights out of me.

4) My scaredy-cat wussiness when it comes to monsters, fake blood, being alone in the dark, my own imagination, etc.

The most entertaining thing here is seeing if I can keep to posting something scary in each post this month without scaring myself witless. Wish me luck, I really am a gigantic wuss.