reid thinky thoughts

Is anyone good enough for Veronica Mars?

As advertised, I trooped downtown in below freezing weather (because, again, winter will never actually end) to see the 11:00am showing of the Veronica Mars movie on Sunday. The theatre was packed, which was a little surprising for an early morning showing of a limited release movie that was funded by a Kickstarter campaign. Then again – maybe we shouldn’t underestimate the power of fandom.

In any case, it was amazing.  A lot of the problem late in the series (season three on) was because Veronica was no longer in high school, and Rob Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to transcend that. That problem’s taken care of in the movie by taking place nine years later. Veronica is a graduate of Columbia Law and left Neptune behind long ago. She has a long-term picture perfect boyfriend in Piz, who was Wallace’s roommate at Hearst College in season three (and unrelatedly, the character I got in a What Veronica Mars Character Are You? quiz). Then Logan Echolls calls, accused of murdering his pop singer girlfriend, and Veronica is right back in the thick of it in the seedy beach town she escaped from.

It was everything I wanted and it actually had my brain back in that giddy, buzzy, fangirl-y place all over again.

There’s been some online discussion recently about whether there was ever any boy in the original series who was really worthy of Veronica. It’s had me thinking for the last couple of days, and I think that person who said it is right. I don’t think any of the boys in Neptune were good enough for a girl and then woman of Veronica Mars’ caliber. But that was then, and this is now. Nine years have passed, and a lot of growing up has happened.

The big aircraft carrier sized ship in the Veronica Mars fandom has always been Veronica and Logan Echolls, who hooked up at the end of season one and lived a tumultuous, fiery existence through the rest of the series. It was a classic case of two people who couldn’t stay away from each other, and that fact remains true even nine years later – ultimately, after all, it’s Logan who manages to get Veronica back home again. I never shipped it. I was actually steadfastly resistant to shipping it. I wrote fanfic pairing them with pretty much every other potential significant other, and that was largely because, as much as I loved Logan, I thought Veronica deserved better.

Fast forward. Nine years have passed in radio silence, as Logan himself puts it, and Veronica has packed her previous life away into boxes and plowed through Stanford and Columbia. She’s on the verge of embarking on a big New York law career. She’s in a steady relationship with a charming, understanding, seriously nice adult man who almost certainly doesn’t regularly go into rages and get into fights. Life should be perfect, but you immediately don’t get the feeling that Veronica is happy.

And then there’s Logan. Logan himself has gone through a lot of changes. He’s a Navy pilot, for one, which isn’t a career I would have ever imagined for him. He describes his relationship with his dead former girlfriend as more akin to being a sponsor than a boyfriend, and – most stunningly – he has a firm grip on his temper. Logan has a lot of shit on his plate during the entire movie, and somehow gets through it while instigating only one fistfight (tellingly, this is over the sex tape that ended Veronica’s sojourn in Neptune nine years before). He takes responsibility for his actions and takes his actual responsibilities seriously.  Veronica herself spends a lot of the movie dodging calls from the law firm where she’s accepted a job, but Logan, in contrast, is pretty firm about adhering to his responsibilities to the Navy.  He’s grown up, and he’s grown up better than you might have expected him to.

For the first time, after watching this movie, I really did ship this pairing. No, it’s not going to be dramatic and romantic and the stuff of William Shakespeare. But it’s going to be good, and Logan Echolls is finally a man good enough for Veronica Mars. Enough so that, unlike Lindsey Bahr at EW, the movie was enough to switch me to Team Logan.

But let’s be realistic: the only real team anyone should be on is Team Veronica.

Mirrored from zonkered.net.

reid thinky thoughts

Pink Shoes

These are sneakers.

I haven’t gotten to wear sneakers for something like three months, because Chicago has been buried in a pile of snow, covered in a layer of ice, covered in another pile of snow, covered in more…well, you get the picture. It’s sucked. By the beginning of February I was completely over it, and then we had another month and a half of it (It was ten degrees when I got back from Texas. I was the opposite of happy). At that point I went beyond over and was just at the point where I despised the weather outside with every fiber of my being.

One of the things that was really getting to me was the fact that I had to wear the same pair of boots – Frye Harness 12Rs that I’ve had for half a decade – pretty much every single day. They’re the only shoes I have that can stand up to the amount of cold and wet we’ve been dealing with, they’re entirely broken in, and they go with everything. I’m completely sick of them. They’re one of the things I growl at in the morning when I get dressed.

(Other things I growl at in the morning include but are not limited to: my hair in the bathroom mirror, the pile of dishes I should have done last night, and cans of cat food.)

But it’s here! It’s spring! I can wear pink shoes again without my feet getting entirely soaked! I got to switch to my lighter coat and only wore  a hat this morning! The end’s in sight!

Except for one minor detail: It’s snowing tomorrow.

Again.

Mirrored from zonkered.net.

dom, fluff daddy

Is it Friday yet? Also, who wants to give me book recommendations?

This week has been interminably long. As I indicated on twitter today, we had IT problems that were making the IT department actually, literally beg for mercy from God and they weren't fixed by the time I left shortly before six.  Perhaps I will have email access tomorrow! Perhaps I will spend the day revising a story for class instead. The possibilities are...well, they lean more towards the second, really. Which is good, as major revising is a thing that needs to happen.

In other news, I've reached the point where my burned skin from Spain is in a peely state not unlike the plaster by my front door. Despite this, I've decided I want to attempt a color slightly darker than Disney Princess pale this year, and as such, I will be trekking to Governor's Island or one of the six beaches in New York this summer. Therefore, I will need things to read. And here comes the irony: I, master's degree holding librarian and girl who used to buy books by the pound, has no idea what to read. It's sad, people.
 
Some things I've read lately and really enjoyed:
 


Songs Without Words by Ann Packer, which is about the rift that grows between two longtime best friends when one of their daughters attempts suicide.

One Day by David Nicholls, which is about (again) two longtime friends who turn to lovers and then husband and wife, with the interesting format of looking at snapshots of the anniversary of the day they met.

Jayne Ann Krentz's recent Arcane Society novels. I'm not a big fan of the ones in this series she's written under her historical pseudonym, Amanda Quick (although I'm reading Burning Lamp right now, and it's pretty good) but I pretty much love all the books in the contemporary half of the series.

Love Will Tear Us Apart by Sarah Rainone, which I unabashedly grabbed from raeschae's author notes for Coda, and which I really enjoyed for the realistic portrayal of how friendships change and drift.

How'd You Get This Number by Sloane Crosley. Essays, but no one really encapsulates what it's like to be single, awkward, and in a major urban city quite like Sloane.



....So, help?
We're all nuts here, work

Adventures in Corporate Retreats in Spain

So most of last week I was gone on a corporate retreat in Alicante, Spain. These involve training for the Employees That Matter, i.e. the consultants, and lots of hours sitting either by the pool or on the beach for those of us who make their work lives run smoothly, and it didn't exactly start on what one would call a high note.
  1. Eight. Hours. In. Dusseldorf. International. Starting at 7am on an incredibly cold and rainy day, so going out to wander around the city was kind of pointless.
  2.  
  3. Nearly 12 hours later - 24 hours after I left New York - I land in Spain to realize that that I don't have a ride from the airport. Or the hotel address, because the London office manager (further idiocy to follow) didn't email it out in time for anyone leaving from the US office; no, only the European offices got that information. Eventually, I managed to get online, get the address, and pay for my own cab there. 
  4.  
  5. Wednesday morning, I get sick from breakfast, and spend the day by the pool calming my stomach and getting sunburned while the important training goes on downstairs. Around 11 a couple consultants come up and look completely crushed  by the relaxation going on. I smirk from behind my book.
  6.  
  7. Friday, during another five course lunch in which I decide I'm a little bit done with paella (2 meals in a row, man, I can't eat that much rice), Idiot Office Manager rushes over to inform me that she mixed up reservations and I'm essentially being evicted from the hotel tonight despite the fact that my flight doesn't leave until the next morning. 
  8.  
  9.  I get moved to another hotel several hours later, probably because I told a director what happened.
  10.  
  11. Next day, I catch a cab, go to airport, check in, hop on the computer to update the parents, and find out that the cat has been a rageriffic pain in the ass for my little sister, i.e. the free catsitter.
  12.  
  13. When I get to Dusseldorf, I find out that in contrast to the epic layover of epicness, I have approximately twenty minutes to make it from the plane to passport control, through passport control, and to my connecting flight. This was only managed because everyone in the non-EU line let me cut to the front. 
  14.  
  15. Eight hours later, I'm finally landing in JFK, finding my bus to midtown, going to my sister's apartment to pick up my keys, and then finally - finally - getting back on the 7 to Queens. The 7 that is, again, choked with signal issues or electical malfunctions or livestock crossing the tracks or whatever it is this week.

They're talking about making this a biannual event. I'm not sure I can take it.
writingfail

Dear Self:

You have a story due in a week in writing class. It's mostly done, and you aren't doing anything but shopping at work today.

You should maybe finish it?

Sincerely,

The Voice of Responsibility
Sam and Dean

Soulless doesn't necessarily mean monstrous

As part of my requisite fandom binge, I've been reading six tons of Supernatural fic, and since it's season 6, and the first half of the season had Sam missing his soul...well, that's a major part of what gets covered in stories. Which would be cool, awesome, except for the fact that the prevailing view of soullessness is so very uninteresting.

I realize part of it's how it was dealt with on the show. I mean, for the most part, Sam was callous, certainly uninhibited, and he admits outright that he doesn't care about anyone. And maybe another part of it is that I interpret not caring to be different from actively harming, but I've got to wonder: if Sam cared so little, what was the purpose of saving Dean from the djinn in the first episode of this season? Why not just let him die, clearly he didn't matter. Except it seems like he did, actually, at least a little bit.

And it's so much more interesting that way, when you think about it. If Sam's still a man, albeit one with the cold, methodical tendencies that could be considered monstrous, isn't that struggle more interesting than assuming that he's just a straight up monster? I think so. I think it makes him one of the more interesting characters of season 6.

But the more I read of Sam as a straight up, uncomplicated monster, the more I realize that I'm pretty alone in that view. Most of what I've read either doesn't deal with the soul thing at all, or it deals with Sam as the latest enemy to defeat. And I sort of wish that the only story I've read that deals with him as a more nuanced character, well. Wasn't written by me.